Monday, October 10, 2011
We moved. Nobody died.
Last weekend we moved house. As my sister rather accurately and succinctly put it, "Moving house is hideous". Yes, it was. The movers arrived two hours early but given that I'd rather naively scheduled our move for the same day and time as the AFL grand final, it was tricky enough to secure movers at all so I didn't complain. I did however have to do some rather hasty packing. But now that the move and cleanup are history, and we are settling in to our new home, the many advantages of being in this house far outweigh the hassles and disadvantages of moving. We are loving our new digs apart from a couple of things.
The first is that, just like at the last house, the phone line sounds like we are in a snowstorm in Antarctica and the internet connection drops out every few minutes. At the last house it took four weeks and me faking a serious case of early-onset grumpy old woman syndrome for Telstra to finally come and fix it, so who knows how long this time.
The second is that something I'd wanted for a long time finally happened, though not exactly in the way I'd hoped. For years my favourite possession has been a large, white bowl by potter John Parker. I've always hoped to eventually own more than one piece of his pottery. Now I do. It seems that "speed packing" needs to be added to the list of tasks I'm rubbish at. Thankfully though, judging by the reactions I've had to our house so far, it looks like turning a sow's ear of a house into a silk purse house can be added to my "not rubbish at" list.