The noisy blokes were back at 9am and it was all systems go. The move was a logistical nightmare as some of the stuff was going to the garage of the house we’re eventually moving into and some was coming with us to the rented house. Even though it’s only two doors down, some of the big stuff – like the settees – still went on the van. I carried my suitcases down the road, along with our duvet covers and a few other essentials.
When we took a lunchbreak at 12, it still looked like we had a long way to go. When we got back half an hour later, the house was starting to look empty. I was able to hoover my daughter’s room and then the lounge. I’m not good at organising or cleaning, but I’m fine with hoovering. My dad was cleaning the oven and my mum was helping with whatever was needed. The two of them were absolutely brilliant all day and worked so hard.
Down the road, my friend’s husband was doing an unbelievable job of clearing their house for us to live in. I don’t know how he did it singlehandedly.
My husband was being pulled in all directions. He had to take some heavy stuff belonging to our sellers to the tip to clear space for us in their garage, as well as helping my friend’s husband load heavy stuff from their house.
Then the removals men set off to unload stuff into the house we’re buying, leaving us with rather a lot of stuff to get out of the house. And our buyers and their removal men waiting outside. The removal men had brought three wardrobe boxes with them – they’d used two for my daughter and one for some of the boys’ clothes. The rest of the boys’ clothes and mine and my husband’s clothes were dumped on the floor, along with various piles of random crap. And we had to get them out of the house as quickly as possible.
I was doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t – carrying piles of stuff down the road. With the buyers and their guys watching us. Why didn’t they help?
We got the house clear, but there was still a fair bit of stuff in the garage and the shed and the horrible lean-to thing on the side of our house. Finally the buyers and their guys started to help. So there was me, my husband, my mum and dad, the buyers and three removal men all carrying stuff down the road. It was exhausting and soul-destroying. I took one last wander around the house I loved and had a little cry.
My mum and I carried the clothes in and hung them up. Then we started dumping them on the floor as time was against us. Then we were getting stuff out of the garage and shed and just dumping it outside. It was awful.
I’d been OK until the garage and shed, then it all got too much. It just seemed ironic that we’d sent nice stuff from the house to live in a garage, then we’d removed stuff from a garage and we would have to have it in our house (this house doesn’t have a garage).
Somehow I ended up on my own in the kitchen doing the unpacking. I am not good at unpacking and organising and working out where things go. I can pack for a holiday and I can organise the kids, but I can’t organise STUFF. It’s like a big puzzle that I can’t solve. It confuses and overwhelms me.
The boxes seemed to be full of stuff like out-of-date icing sugar and herbs. Who even knew that we had this stuff? We’d come out of a small house with very little cupboard space and our cupboards had been full of this rubbish? I chucked a lot of it away. I tried to recreate our (rather random) cupboards from home. Then I got confused and just let stuff on the table.
Then we had to get stuff off the drive and organise the spare room to fit it all in. My husband was in his element, I was just confused.
When he saw the kitchen I was in trouble for my random unpacking. He solved the puzzle for me and I was able to help put it away.
By this time it was 9pm and I’d been working since 7.30am. My step counter on my phone recorded that I’d done 20,000 steps – that’s rather a lot considering I’d only been walking next door but one all day.
We got two of the kids into makeshift beds – my eldest opted to sleep at Grandma’s – and got my daughter’s room looking pretty homely.
We discovered the base of our bed had gone to the garage, along with all of my boys’ underwear, Tshirts and school uniforms and the cushions off one of the settees (not the decorative ones, the actual seat of the settee). No doubt we will discover more that’s missing in the next few days.
After standing empty, the house is cold, even colder than our old house (and that’s very cold), we couldn’t get the telly to work and there will be no Wi-Fi from 1st Deember. So I’ll be blogging off 3G on my phone. And the 3G signal isn’t very good round here. The ensuite doesn’t have a shower, the shower is downstairs. I couldn’t work out where to put my toiletries. So I didn’t have a shower, even though I felt like I was coated in dust and cobwebs.
All in all, the move was a horrendous experience.
I cat believe we’ve got to do it again in a few weeks.