I am just so over this moving thing. Night after night I go to bed, expecting the Fairy Moving Mother to arrive in her magic moving van during the night and whisk me away to our new House On The Hill, but everyone damn morning I wake up in the same blue bedroom, and to make it worse, with the same damn Mr FD beside me. The only box thath as moved in the night is the one that Mr FD fell over in his race to get to his side of the bed before the light goes off (and if you believe that lie, maybe you should be the next special envoy to the middle east). He usually falls over them as he crawls out of bed to the bathroom in the night.
Monday is M for moving day; out to the moving van, off down the highway and up the hillside drive to go into the new house. We are getting to that stage where energy is running low, panic is setting in and things are getting thrown into boxes. It was a stage I had prayed we would avoid, and I did actually sort some of the boxes that had been stored in the garage from out last move in 2002 when we ended up doing the same thing, but it hasn’t been helped by Mr FD’s self-professed “complete denial” that there was actual hard yakka (work) to be done. He really does believe in the Fairy Moving Mother!
Our new fridge and washing machine are being delivered today. I don’t get to play with them until we move, as they are staying in their boxes until then. I assume they will be in boxes. The washing machine that we borrowed from MIL will be deposited back on Saturday. She no longer leaves her care facility for home visits, but we shall keep the peace and return the washing machine, that no doubt we well be called on to sell on her behalf when the house is sold in the near future. The new machine is much bigger anyway.
We had to buy a new fridge as the shelves cracked in our present fridge. I didn’t think it would groan through the weight of another Christmas feast, so it is being delegated to the garage as a drinks fridge in summer. The present drinks fridge in the garage is being assigned to the footpath for the scrap metal merchant. Strangely enough it became a drinks fridge when its shelves cracked also. I don’t know what we do to fridges but we do seem to have a knack for breaking shelves. Mr FD doesn’t climb in to frighten small children or anything, well, as far as I know. The new fridge has tempered glass shelves so we are hoping for the best. Maybe it needs a camera just to keep a habit on what Mr FD gets up to when I am not there – he has always been intrigued by that little light that goes on and off when the door opens and shuts. Now that I think of it, the little light stopped functioning in both old fridges years ago. What does he get up to?
It is all those kinds of things that require thinking and organising that weasr one down, not just the packing. Logistics. Decisions. Communications. BUYERS (did I mention that they wanted to bring forward the settlement date to suit themselves? They wanted to settle before the weekend, not on Monday. Our lawyer said no, knowing it was impossible, without even asking us. I am sure it was to get out of paying another week’s rent). Anyway, this time next week, I shall sit on my front patio (deck, porch whatever you call that outdoor thingy area in your country) and take a photo of my serenity to share with you.
I just have to remember which box has the camera in it…