Month Twenty-One

Dear Husband,
I am sure that years from now we will look back on this month and remember it as only a minorly stressful period in our lives. We may romanticise the time that we moved into our very first home and fondly remember sharing this part of our lives together. We probably won’t remember the hours we spent wandering around Bunnings when you were (I assume) imagining the vast and glorious and I just wanted to leave so I could have dinner before 9pm for once. We were either blessed or cursed by having both the 1st and the 2nd largest stores in the country in the local vicinity of our rented residence and our bought home respectively. It turned out to be double trouble I think. I was very happy to have been able to reorganise my pantry and the tape gun was definitely useful whilst packing and all, but one can easily suffer from too much choice (and not enough money). My stomach did.
So this month we managed to move into our house. Just. After our plans to settle before Good Friday fell through of course since we were apparently inconveniencing the other party’s conveyancer who had an extra, extra, extra long weekend planned (why she couldn’t be happy with the Anzac holiday and the Easter holidays rolled into one I don’t know). We less than politely declined their offer to charge us well above market rent to take possession early but this did then mean that moving was a bit more of a rushed job than we would have liked. We technically had more time to pack, sure, but in the long run, we really just had less time to finish all the loose ends at our old place. This therefore contributed to the Misplacement Of Possessions Predicament also known as Packing By Slackers.
Now the packing started out really well. Since I was so good at it last time, you graciously said that I could have the whole job this time as well which sounds suspiciously like a cop out but at least it meant that we’d probably know where everything was at the other end. I started packing carefully so I could sort out boxes of things to be kept that didn’t require unpack at the new house and boxes of things that really should have been kept together in the first place. I culled a little along the way but it was a slow process. Or maybe it was me that was slow because when it came to move day, I wasn’t ready. There was still stuff in every room of the house. The big stuff was all sorted but it was all those little bits and pieces of non-essential paraphernalia (like our collection of hotel soaps and lotions) that should have gone in the bin mixed up with important small items (such as the remote control for the stereo system) which needed to be kept handy. We had helpers on moving day, which was fantastic naturally, but once other people started putting those things in boxes, I lost track of where everything was. Like your razer. Which we still haven’t found. I also had no idea we owned so much!
I’m sure people say this every time they move. As soon as you have to start reaching towards the back of the drawer or the top of the cupboard, you find all those long forgotten things you stashed for that very bizarre reason – I want to have it but I don’t want to see it again. And it appears that must have had a lot of those dark corners because we certainly have a lot of possessions and a multitude of clothes and we can’t possibly need all of it. I don’t even know where it all came from. And then there was just more of it! I thought when we loaded up the truck, the bus and the cars that we had shifted everything in a day but when we went back on Sunday to repair the hole you put in the wall, I found there were still more boxes to pack and move! Almost all of it came to the house with us too so the next trick will be finding everything a home in the cottage with no cupboards (well, not in any of the bedrooms at least). Unless of course we can agree on an internal storage solution which may simplify the process. Agreeing may not be so simple though.
I seem to recall last time we moved that the placement of furniture and possessions was a bit of a contentious issue. This time has certainly been no different. You would most likely be forgiven for thinking that the world’s future rested on where precisely we decided to place the new flat screen television (hurrah for the housewarming gift to ourselves which is the first TV we’ve ever actually bought) and sofas in our living room since it was such a heated discussion. I apparently had “so many” conditions as to where things had to be placed. This of course was an exaggeration of the Neanderthal counting system “one, two, many…” as my “conditions” numbered a sum total of two.

Firstly, I didn’t want the tv to be placed in front of the window. My windows are small enough that I don’t much fancy hiding any of them and it’s awfully difficult to exert the occasionally Herculean effort of prising them open if you can’t reach the hand holds! And secondly, I want the tv to be against something rather than in the middle of a room by itself for the very simple reason that our neighbourhood friends have a three year old and a 10 month old. The old tv was so fat that it could not be pushed over so much as off of something… with effort, but the new tv is so flat that all its going to take is an excited child tearing through the house or someone catching a bunch of cords as they walk past and that tv is going down. I am not that precious that I am paranoid about children touching the tv (I assume they will) but I did think it was only prudent that we minimise the likelihood that it will get broken before we’ve even had much of a chance to enjoy using it.

Cautiously yours,
Your Loving Wife
* Photo of a really good bottle of wine we had on our anniversary last year and incidentally one of the photos that you made me take so I could throw out all the extraneous wine bottles we had about the flat when I was packing to move.
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