Hello, dear reader! How are things?
Just in case I haven’t complained about this loudly or frequently enough yet, I absolutely loathe and detest moving house, mainly because of the packing. Packing for a holiday is great, and even packing for the Edinburgh Fringe is ok (as long as someone remembers the props), but packing up an entire house is just ridiculous. Here are some modern moving woes which I think we can all relate to (and some nice bits as well):
- “Whose is this?”
It doesn’t matter whether you only live with one other person, or you put your name in all of your books, or you have an excellent memory: there is always at least one household item which has disputed ownership. For example, I cannot remember for the life of me who owns the cheese grater, and that’s a very serious concern in our house.
- “No, seriously, whose is this?”
Ash and I reconciled ourselves a long time ago to the fact that our friends see us as an elderly married couple, despite (or potentially because of) our best efforts to behave like normal girls in their mid twenties. However, it has resulted in the other ownership issue that arises when you move house: what do you do with presents that were given to you jointly? Is it fair to call dibs on something that you both have an attachment to? Ash has already said that I can have the beautiful cheese board our friend gave us for Christmas, so that’s ok. And yes, everything in this household really does come down to cheese. It would be sort-of funny if it weren’t so very true.
- Furniture Tetris
During the last twelve months, Ash and I have both tried to move the furniture in our bedrooms. I say “tried”, because one of us got stuck between a wardrobe and a bed, and the other got halfway through before realising that it was past midnight and the neighbours might complain. Trying to move furniture around and have somewhere to keep your clothes, books etc. and clean as you go is like playing four different levels of Tetris at the same flipping time. I’m genuinely worried about how we’re going to get all of our furniture out of the front door and into the van.
- Boxing Days
You can never have enough boxes. Every time we’ve left the house in the past week, we’ve stopped at our local Asda to ask the lovely produce staff for cardboard boxes that used to house melons and cabbages. We now have approximately seven crates of books each and no floor space to move around in. My main regret about this is that we didn’t even make a fort before we filled them.
- Sweet Charity
Moving house is a great time to have a bit of a clear out, whether you swap possessions or do a massive charity shop run. This aspect of moving is characterised by questions like “Do you want these shoes?” “This belt doesn’t fit me, do you want to take it?” and even “Do you know you look like one of the seven dwarves with that bin bag over your shoulder?” (Answer: yes. Yes I do. And I’m ok with it. Cue singing “Hi ho” all the way down to the Cancer Research shop.)
- Hostesses with the Mostest
By the time we have our house cooling party tomorrow night, the flat will basically be empty apart from emergency coffee-making equipment and the magic internet box (which I think proper grown-ups refer to as a modem). This is going to make hosting a party a bit of a challenge, but with a bit of luck and a lot of plastic cups, I think we’ll be ok.
Right. I’m going to go and tackle the kitchen. Wish me luck, and have an exceedingly joyful Tuesday.