Moving house is always stressful, but I do wonder if most people have the same sort of experiences I’ve had or if I am just one super lucky gal.
On the first day all was exciting, looking at all the fabulous stuff they had left, the bedroom furniture and curtains, the curtain poles with big sparkly tie backs, they had steam cleaned the oven and repainted walls.. all seemed so wonderful.. except for the living room and the stair and landing carpet.. it smelled a bit.. well doggy.
I bought some doggy odour shampoo though and gave the carpet a good scrub, sure that all would be well in the morning.
In the night though, the smell was so strong I realised my throat was closing up.
The next night however was even worse.. I spent the night being sick... 5am next morning I went downstairs looked sorrowfully at the forlorn carpet and then in a frenzy spent two hours ripping it up and chucking it out into the garden.
Bliss. The smell of rubbery underlay.. but NO DOG!
Oh well, just buy a new carpet I can hear you saying. But for me it was a bit of a disappointment really on two levels. Firstly, though it was red, it was the thickest carpet I have ever stood on! It was virtually ankle deep! Secondly, I had planned to get a dog myself, but what if all dogs are so stinky and I became immune and ended up a mad old dog lady who people avoided in the street due to my doggy odours? My boyf’s family have a Staffy and I distinctly remember playing with her without the need for a clothes peg on the nose. A cloth to mop up the drool perhaps but that was it. Oh horror.. would my dream of owning a dog be dashed before I had even watched Crufts and browsed it like a catalogue to find my perfect doggy companion?
In the name of research I have since invited my friend and her wee pooch over and spent an hour sniffing it inbetween our chattery. All is well. I am now of the opinion that it was a particularly stinky variety of dog that perfumed my carpet for me.
Anyway, you would think that now that problem was overcome I could skip down the stairs happily without a care in the world. Indeed I actually tried this. But being a habitual wearer of floorsweepingly long skirts I instantly found after two steps that I was now held firmly in place.
Did I mention that I hadn’t removed the gripper rods?
Those blasted little batons of wood covered in sharp nails usually so useful at holding down carpets are now taking great delight in snagging me every time I pass them.
My poor shoes are now so filled with holes they would give a colander a run for its money, as for my feet.. words escape me.. in fact they have been involuntarily escaping me every time I stand on one of those prickly little feckers.
The problem is I am a bit of a bohemian and like to wander about barefoot which is a hard habit to stop.
Being a bit of a hippy though has come in very handy what with my complete lack of furniture.
The moving in date was delayed and postponed so many times that by the time we had heard for sure what the moving-in day was going to be, there were no removal vans available for hire, what with it being a Bank Holiday weekend. So instead my long suffering parents and sister agreed to form a little convoy of cars and bring up all the essential.. well all those that would fit in their cars.
And as there were no vans for a whole week they came the next day.. and then the next. Now as we looked at what furniture I had left it seemed a bit of a waste to book a van so they have continued to bring up my possessions in little car loads.
It has been a slow process. Not only did I have to move into a new house, I have also moved into a new Jewellery studio. I can heartily recommend that if you plan to do something similar YOU DON’T.
It is an utterly complex procedure. Trying to figure out what goes to what location is something you need to be a member of MENSA to do.
At last though we have squeezed everything into it’s rightful home… hmmm.. something appeared to be missing though.. oh yes.. CHAIRS!!
I had planned to order some new sofas once I had moved in, but that was before I massacred the carpets, so I have no comfy chairs to sit and chat on. Oh and my dining chairs are located in my parents loft, handily situated at the very back behind 7 years of accumulated rubbish.
Now, like a group of toddlers, we sit at the dining table with our armpits level with the top and and our eyes peeping over it. I have had to improvise you see, and at short notice this means we now tuck into our tasty meals while sitting at a fishing stool, a deckchair and a pair of library steps. It is all very.. um.. quirky.
An exciting announcement I do have is that I now own a refrigerator.
The first one arrived with a free dent the size and shape of a big hefty work boot in the side, which I decided was just not really my style, so I had to wait to have it picked up and replaced.
In the meantime I was very limited in my eating options. My milk had turned to butter and my butter had turned to milk and I was surviving on a diet of Pot Noodles. I think there is a reason why they have food like that in Space. Something to do with the fact that no one on Earth would ever want it. The novelty of a kettle based cookery system wears thin very quickly.
As you can see my first foray into life as a Buckinghamshire lass has been quite a challenge.
But now things are slightly more settled and I have Internet again (a month with no Internet and very cheap mobile phone that was less apple and more banana has been a trying experience… oh how I have missed my flickr friends in particular) I will hopefully be able to explore my surroundings and concentrate a bit more on my work that has been sadly neglected.. though this may well continue to be neglected.. more about that next time.
**On one last note, for those people worried about the safety of my moggy, he has not yet come. I will not bring him until the flooring is sorted and is safe.. he is currently still at my parent’s house where I visit him for kitty kisses regularly.