, , , , , , ,

I have to be out of my house in a couple weeks, but I don’t yet have anywhere to go.  The guy from the moving company came on Monday to give me a quote.  It will take two containers and three days to pack the stuff.  And they will store it (in the same containers) until I have a place to take it.  Don’t get me wrong–I do have prospects.  Last Sunday I looked again at a place I was very excited about–one I looked at about seven months ago, and even made a conditional offer on.  In the meantime, it has lost its luster.  Big Time.  Or should I say PigTime.  It seems that since I last saw the house, the property next door (very close, shares a driveway) has become a piggery!  Its true. These are rural properties, but the house is right next to the boundary of the piggery, which also sits up close to the fence.  I have nothing against pigs.  In fact, I rather like them.  They’re smart, and the squillions (squeallions) of piglets were adorable.  But in large groups they smell. Really smell.

The other two properties on my list remain prospects,  so back up to the north this weekend to make a decision. I love my life, I really do.  But sometimes not quite as much as other times.  I’d rather be cruising.

I’m having the movers pack everything, but there are some things I just have to do myself.  I think I’ll hire a skip (huge rubbish container, which is delivered and removed by a crane) to dump the rejects into…those things that don’t make it to the recycling shop.


And no, the old phone books aren’t going with me…

I’m trying to choose between a couple of old federation houses, but the trouble with 100+ year-old houses is that they don’t always have closets.  Just lovely old–antique–wardrobes, of which I personally would need about twelve.  No joke.  It isn’t that I’m particularly fashionable…I just don’t like to throw things away. It turns out the late 1980s were very big years for purchases.  Especially of things with huge shoulder pads.  Plus, I’ve changed shape a few times…

Ah, well.  I suppose all of you have moved at least once or twice, so you know what it’s like.  I’ll stop whining now.  Besides, there is an upside to all of this–I now have a very good excuse for not dusting for a while.           MM