Two Up, Too Down

At last, our reluctant moving saga is almost at an end, and I’m happy to report that great progress has been made in the past week, despite a bit of a false start.

Last weekend, we decided to postpone Valentine’s Day even though it was our first one as a married couple. (Should I be concerned…??!)

Instead, we’d invited some friends round ‘for a final Saturday night chez nous’ but with the ulterior motive of presenting them with a great big wad of newspapers and a pile of kitchenware to wrap up.

In retrospect, we should have started off the production line before we brought out the booze; in the end, not a jot of work was done but at least a jolly good time was had by all.

Somewhat inevitably, the ensuing hangover also rendered any packing activity on Sunday utterly impossible.

But panic, it seems, is a wonderful motivator, and we have been nothing short of magnificent in our efforts over the past few evenings.

True, we’d left ourselves with zero choice but to spend hours every night engaged in frenzied bouts of boxing-up – but adopting such a last minute approach has kept my emotions at bay which, believe me, is absolutely miraculous.

We’re also leaving our actual farewells until the very final moment: although we’re moving in to the new place tonight, we don’t have to hand in our old keys till tomorrow, so we’re going back then for a last – nooo, I can’t bear it!! - wander around.

Which means – for one night and one night only – we can claim to be part of the two-homes clique.  Just a pity we don’t own either of them…

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