The Big Move
or, why I tried to put my kettle in the cupboard
I've been a bit quiet on here of late and those of you who follow my social accounts will know why - Stan and I have just bought a house! And moved into it. Sort of. We're about 70% of the way there, I think...
This is the second time we've moved house together but our first buy - the very first time we stepped into a place knowing it was our own. There's nothing quite like it. And there's nothing quite like the exhaustion and sense of responsibility either!
I had excellent intentions of sorting, categorising and clearing out the junk from my assorted possessions pre the move. Charity shop drops, tip trips and neatly folded everything was the plan. The kitchenware would be labelled; the bedding would be washed and dried before being taken to its new home.
Then it all suddenly happened and lo and behold I was carting things around in plastic bags, dressed in the only clothes I could find that were practical and clean (but not so clean that they couldn't get dirty), sweating like a greasy womp rat and meeting all my new neighbours in said greasy state. Well, I like to make a good first impression.
It didn't last because I managed to put my back out carrying a box and Stan had to do all the heavy lifting for the next two days, including carting things into the loft. The man is a hero. I'm pretty sure we're both running on adrenaline, Ribena and the distant promise of having enough chairs for more than one of us to sit in the living room at the same time.
At the weekend, 24 hours into having slept in the new house for the first time (sheets for curtains, anybody?), our first guests arrived and I served them lasagne in cereal bowls because I'd left the plates at the old house.
On Saturday night we had games night at the old house because that's where the plates were, oh and most of the chairs. I couldn't fulfil requests for coffee because a) I didn't have any and b) the kettle had been taken to the new house. On Sunday morning I got coffee and then tried to put the hot, full kettle back in the cupboard and the coffee jar on the kettle stand. I didn't drink any coffee, because I gave it up for Lent, so that might have been part of the problem.
I just have to admit it - I'm basically a zombie right now, but I crave sleep, not brains. So for those of you waiting to see the new pad, it'll happen, but not until I have a functioning hob, curtains, and I can find my crockery!
Love & yawns,
Amber (& an also very sleepy Stan)