Moving house is physically and mentally insanely stressful. If you don’t agree, you’re wrong. Every muscle hurts. My fingers ache. I’m covered in bumps, scratches and bruises, I can’t bend my knees.
And my mental state is just as wrecked. I can best describe my head as … honestly … I’m not sure how to describe it BECAUSE MY BRAIN IS REFUSING TO WORK BECAUSE I’M SO EXHAUSTED.
However, move house we have. We’ve not moved that far, just up the hill from number 12 to number 27. We’ve unpacked (mostly) and are ready for our first visitors (who arrive tomorrow). It’s exciting to have visitors … we like to share our city and our (new) house.
And this house is probably the first place either of us have lived in that feels “grown up”. There is space (but not too much space). Our furniture has room to breathe – which is a first. It has issues – there’s an awful lot of garden to look after, the kitchen is a bit old (although very functional), the range-hood needs forehead friendly bumpers attached so I stop braining myself, but yeah … it’s a pretty great place.
Of course we’ll miss number 12. The kitchen was so well designed (although the hob was electric) and the view from the living room and the decks was quite lovely, but it was real noisy in the wind, the hot water was rubbish, oh and it was damp and cold in the winter and none of the rooms quite worked with our mishmash of furniture. Still, it did us proud for a year … we were very happy there despite the issues.
So if you find yourself in the neighbourhood, let me know and we’ll put the kettle on and if you bring your hiking boots, we’ll take you for a tour of the garden.
The Obligatory Blog 