Moving House

moving-house

 

 

I have just spent the last two weeks moving house.  I have moved a lot and I hate every bit of it!  How on earth can four people accumulate so much stuff!  It makes me yearn for a minimalist lifestyle, but alas, my family are a bunch of hoarders.

It always starts out the same.  I have grand plans of an organised and stress-free move.  I have lists and marking pens and tape and I even have an app! But, as they say in all good war stories, all plans are perfect until the first shot is fired.  No sooner are the boxes taped and ready than the plans fall apart.

I like to blame my husband for this.  He just starts throwing things in boxes higgledy piggledy and then taping them up without marking them and moving them into the shed and pretty soon I don’t know what is what.  My beautifully choreographed move is now a shambles.

I always promise myself that I will de-clutter as I pack, but again this is just a pipe dream.  I start out with good intentions but then the family will interfere…don’t throw that out…I need that…that’s mine!….argh!  During one move we threw out 3 1/2 cubic metres of CRAP!  Last time it was 2 this time it was only one trailer load to the dump, so maybe we are not accumulating so much stuff as we used to (or I’m getting worse at de-cluttering!).

The absolute worst part of moving is the end.  Trying to pack all those last minute bits and pieces that don’t really have a home but you don’t want to throw out.  Trying to balance what you can pack and what you need to leave out to live and then those things you leave out are then the last things that you move. And then the cleaning…don’t get me started on the cleaning.

This is when tiredness starts its attack.  Days of packing and cleaning and carrying and moving and pretty soon you are exhausted.  You’ve been eating nothing but takeaway for goodness knows how many days and your body is crying out for something GREEN.

And then moving day arrives.  The truck pulls into the driveway and your whole life gets put into a container.  Every treasured momento, those things you “just had to have” all get lumped together in a 3 metre cube and transported to your new address.

Some people see moving as a chance to start over, a chance to begin again fresh.  I see the merit in this, but I prefer to see it as another chapter rather than a new story.  As I unpack all my worldly possessions, I am reminded of why I have them in the first place.  We attach memories to momentos and it feels good to have them surround us.  A house is just a building until it is filled with all those things that make it a home.

 

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