Phew! The past week has been a total whirlwind; I’ve made cups of tea for more builders and handymen than for myself (that’s saying something – y’all know I’m a confirmed tea swigger), seen more cardboard boxes and packing paper than I ever have in my entire life and now own all the house catalogues. I mean it. Every. Single. One. Feel free to test me on the IKEA brochure, I know it page for page.
It’s been exhausting, but it’s also been incredibly exciting. When all the boxes arrived in the lounge after four months sat in storage, the thought of emptying them and finding a place for everything was about as appealing as a shotgun to the face… but as soon as we started unwrapping things – an epic game of pass the parcel – and favourite mugs, books and ornaments started reappearing from the void it all became worthwhile 🙂
Moving house is both the best of times and the worst of times. When we decided, well over a year ago now, that we were ready to move, I don’t think I fully understood the total upheaval and emotional torture that lay ahead. My mother, in the midst of the madness said that the three most stressful things you do in life are; getting married, having kids, and selling/buying houses. But, as will all those things, the end result is absolutely 100% worth the pain. Not that it’s ever easy to see that when you’re stuck on the sell/buy merry-go-round getting dizzier and dizzier with no sign of getting off!