Tag Archives: moving house

Shock to the System

I’m back!
Well, I’m sort of back, but I’m not all here.  Don’t know where I’ve been?  Check out my previous post for the low-down…

So I’m back online. We’ve moved house and started settling. The move went well, much better than expected, largely fuelled by the children’s unwavering excitement for all things lorry.  The unpacking has begun and is continuing apace. I mentioned 100+ boxes in my last post… actually, make that closer to 200.  I have about 60 or so left to do, so I’m doing well.

The kids have started school and are full of enthusiasm. They have made friends and even had their first playdate already: quick work!  I, too, am meeting people and making friends, and next week, hubby will start his new, local job.

However.  Here’s the thing.  This move has turned out to be far more of a shock to the system than I had imagined, and it’s only just becoming apparent why.

For a start, I can’t find anything in this new house of ours, even though I put most of the ‘stuff’ away personally.  But everything is different here, and I keep opening the wrong doors.  I constantly find myself spinning around my own axis in the kitchen trying to locate butter (which is definitely not in the cupboard under the sink) or plates or cooking utensils. And if I really can’t find it, you can bet it is still in one of the many still unpacked boxes, so I have to make do without.

Broadband took a while to come on, and then it took another few days to actually locate the computer and switch it back on.

Every time I settle down in my brand new office, something happens that takes priority over resuming my work life. Yesterday, it was a poorly child.  And today, for no particular reason at all, I had a bit of an attack of home-sickness for Bristol, involving plenty of tears and a cup of coffee with a new friend who helped put things into perspective.  I know, I know: tears, home-sickness, grown woman?  What can I say, it’s a big change for everyone!

Just now, we’ve had a massive thunderstorm including a mini power cut. And it is only another hour to the school run… What’s that they say?  Time flies!

So this post is merely to say:  I’m back, almost.  Over the next few days, as the shock to the system will hopefully start to abate, I’ll be re-emerging on Twitter, I’ll say ‘hello’ on Facebook, I’ll start visiting blogs again and resume business as usual.  With a bit of luck, I’ll be bringing you Music Monday on Monday.  But if I don’t manage, please do forgive me.  I never thought I’d be this discombobulated after a simple move up-country! And I never thought that everything would take so much longer than planned…

If you know of any shortcuts to make the adjustment process easier… or faster, please share. I could do with some help! xx 🙂

Author, Interrupted

Well, I never thought I’d get to use this image…. Hands up those of you who have genuinely seen on of these on the telly in their lifetimes!

If you have indeed seen one of these test cards before, you’ll know what they mean.  “The broadcaster apologises for the service interruption.”  Or it could simply mean that the channel is offline.

In my case, at this point in time, it means both.  My service is interrupted, and I am therefore offline.  Here’s why:

Yes, I’ve finally moved house, with the entire Wells family, of course.  The big day is today, Tuesday 19th June.  And the implication?  No telephone line, no cable, no broadband (ADSL or DSL, for those of you on the other side of the pond).


That’s right.  So I won’t be blogging, tweeting, emailing, using Facebook or doing anything technical at all.
No posts, not even Music Monday or CentreStage.
Nada.  Niente.
Complete Radio Silence.

How long will this sad state of affair last?  Who knows.  I’m told it could be a week from today, or more.  So… until you see me back online, I’ll have to refer you to the test card and tell you:  Author, Interrupted. But you’ll know when I’m back, rest assured.  Take care, my friends, and don’t forget to keep rockin’.  Oh, and send me some good vibes while I’m unpacking 100 boxes.

Our House

Music Monday: today with a home moving theme (sort of!)…

As all matters ‘house’ and ‘moving’ are dominating my life right now, I thought I’d share some of the joy and excitement with you with a classic song sporting a totally apt title.  I opted for the original rather than the fancy version on top of Buck House… And please imagine me singing at top volume as I direct the movers and supervise the Madness!

Happy Music Monday… and now, sadly, I must dash!

Descent into chaos!

I’m in my own personal hell.  My Room 101.  Or Rooms 101, as it were.

Eeek, you exclaim, what could possibly be the matter?
Ach, I reply, my house is in chaos.

So it is. As the move is picking up pace and the deadline of Tuesday is coming ever closer, perparations are afoot and my home, my haven, my reign of order and peace, is being progressively destroyed.  Well, not destroyed, exactly; that would be a calamity!  But certainly… upheaval-ed. If you must know, I am obsessively tidy and organised, so this… is my idea of hell.

But! Being obsessively organised and tidy, I rule over the chaos with an iron fist and while it’s bad, it’s not that bad.  I thought I’d share a little photo diary of the preparation for the Wells family move.  Grab a cuppa, sit back, and relax while you count your blessings at not moving house right now! 🙂 Happy Friday, one and all, and have a great weekend.

There’s always a list. In fact, I’ve got several on the go right now but I won’t bore you with the hierarchy. Suffice it to say that this is this week’s masterlist, the countdown to Sunday with everything that needs to be achieved… in every area of my life. I’m Queen of Lists!

After two days of hard labour, two sets of wardrobes are finally dismantled and resting peacefully (and neatly) in the dining room awaiting collection by their new owners.

The wardrobe doors, alas, have to reside in the lounge, so as not to break the mirrors. Rendering the lounge largely unusable, especially for the kids.

Like our new wardrobes?

Oh yes, and the stylish storage system. Efficient, if impractical!

The kids, at least, adore their new furniture. Maybe we can keep this style as a space saving solution?

Of course I’m cleaning the fridge for the new owner. Who wouldn’t? I’ve cleaned the oven too, but I’m sparing you the picture. Alas, now I’m refusing to use either appliance, which is posing a lot of meal-time logistical problems. It’s only for a few more days, right?

It may not look like much, but it is heavy… several years’ worth of confidential paperwork. What to do with it?

Problem solved. Filing system lean and clean. Paperwork disposed of. You’ve got to love moving house.

Just keep cleaning, just keep cleaning, just keep cleaning, cleaning, cleaning….

Can’t get myself to take our home-made Jubilee bunting down. Maybe on Monday?

Kids are getting into the spirit… and are doing some modest sorting out of their own. Well done, boys!

And there’s the rub. The big problem. The rather large hole in front of our house where the removals lorry will have to park on Monday morning to start loading. I’m assured that the hole will be gone but… I don’t see it. Hm.

And that’s it! Over the weekend, things will no doubt descend into chaos. And on Monday morning, when the removals firm arrives (always assuming they can get here!), I will just exile myself to the coffee shop to save me from a nervous breakdown.  So far, so good.

How do you get through moving house, folks?

Runaway Train

It’s Music Monday!

Today I have a very special treat for me you!  As you all know by now, I am about to move house for the first time in nine years.  This is the biggest move since I left home age nineteen.  It is probably for this reason that the upcoming move is creating associations with long-forgotten emotions of ‘uprooting’ the first time; and among all of those associations has swum to the surface what turned out to be the ‘theme song’ of my first few months in England.

It wasn’t an elected theme song, you understand, it just kind of happened.  It was on the radio all the time and some of the lyrics resonated.  For example:

Runaway train, never going back
Wrong way on a one-way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there

That described me perfectly, making it a happy song to me.  I had run away, in a manner of speaking; in an organised, planned and orderly fashion.  I didn’t just up-stick and go, but it still felt like The Great Escape.  I was never going back, no way Jose.  My family didn’t really believe I would last, but I knew this was ‘it’.  Yet I hadn’t quite arrived anywhere even when I started to settle, and for the longest time I really was ‘neither here nor there.’  It’s not that easy to fit into a new culture, and it takes time until you feel like you truly belong.

It was only much later that I took the time to listen to all of the lyrics and also happened to see the video on MTV (not something readily available on the shared TV in the Hall of Residences lounge).  It was therefore only much later that I realised that the song is really about missing persons, many of them children, who have run away for a whole host of devastating reasons, or been cruelly taken from their families.  In fact, the intended meaning and message of the lyrics didn’t apply to my circumstances; and I was greatly saddened by the story the video depicts, which is a million years from my own experience.  But still:  the sentiment of the chorus at least had become my own, my little runaway theme.

Turns out I wasn’t the only one to read a different meaning into the lyrics; quite a few folks out there seem to feel the lyrics were about depression in some capacity. Goes to show how much the written (or sung, as it were) word is open to interpretation if taken out of a concrete context! 🙂

Thus Runaway Train by the amazing Soul Asylum continues to be one of my favourites to this day, for all the right reasons.

And of course, as always, it’s over to you right now….

Do you perhaps have a ‘theme song’ for a particular period of your life?

Or have you, like me, ever made a song ‘your own’ before discovering that the lyrics tell a radically different story from your own interpretation?

Nostalgia Before the Fact

You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone, or so they say.  I’m currently discovering that this isn’t a wholly accurate statement!

Ever had that weird feeling of missing something before it’s even gone?  That’s me all over at the moment.

It’s no secret that the Wells family will be moving house soon.  In fact, after more than ten weeks of nail-biting, hair-tearing anxiety, we have finally exchanged contracts and confirmed a moving date.  19th June is ‘M’ day for us!

But this isn’t simply a move up the road (not that there’s anything simple about any move, but there’s little moves and big moves.  This is definitely a big move).  The Wells family, including this here author, will be moving to the Middle East.

Eeeeek, got ya! Well, sort of.  Technically, we are moving to the middle east—of England.  Our new home is a three-and-a-half hour drive up north east in sunny (or so I’m told) Lincolnshire.

Even though I’m plenty used to moving, this is a different experience.  I have been settled here like I haven’t been settled anywhere since I left home at nineteen.  Specifically, I will be leaving behind eight years of building friendships.  A house that my husband and I lovingly painted and painted all over again (on the inside, I hasten to add).  A house that saw the arrival of two children, two years apart.  With everything that entails:  wee on the walls (well, how was I supposed to know that a boy infant can pee in every which position, every which way, in every direction?), sleepless nights, first steps, first foods, bumped heads, dents in walls and floors from thrown toys.  Laughter and joy, sickness, tears and frustrations.  Many a tantrum.

Memories, in short.  A house and a life filled with memories, and we’re leaving it all behind.  Although arguably, we’re taking the memories with us–we’re just leaving the setting behind.

So as I go about my daily business, I find myself in the throes of premature nostalgia.  “I’ll miss the walk down the lane to school,” I was thinking this morning.  “Look at those lovely daffs nodding their heads over that wall.”

“I’ll miss the village and the river Trym, sometimes so docile, and sometimes offering a bit more oomph in the fast-flow department.”

“I’ll miss the coffee shop on the corner that does the best tuna melts.”

And so on.  Nostalgia before the fact.  A sense of heightened perception that seems to make everything clearer, sharper, more in focus.  I suspect that that’s the purpose of the phenomenon, a kind of memory-factory to ensure that you take with you all those feelings and impressions that mattered to you in a certain environment (and some that don’t, presumably).

Anyway, there it is, and it’s getting steadily more pronounced as we are counting down the days now.  The children are feeling it, too, probably even more so than me.

So my question to you is:  what’s your instance of nostalgia before the fact?

PS: of course I wiped the wee off the walls.  I even repainted the offending patch, the very same day, having previously disinfected it.  And I fixed all the dents, too.  I’m emphasising this point just in case you happen to be our purchaser and you’re getting nervous about the house!