For some the move to a new home can be the most traumatic time of their lives, for others, those who embrace change, it can be filled with excitement and the promise of new adventure. Moving house for me is definitely in the latter category as it heralds an opportunity to cull all the unnecessary crap that we have accumulated, thereby reducing the amount I have to wrap, pack, transport, unpack, unwrap and store at the next place.
Over the last twelve months I have been progressively working my way through the house minimising our stuff as I go. It all started when I went to get a garlic press out of the utensil drawer in the kitchen and could not get it open! It was jammed stuck, with one of the useless tools wedged against the drawer above. Eventually I pried it open and that was the catalyst for the utensil draw make over. This segued to a kitchen cupboard clean out, ridding me of duplicates of crockery and serving dishes, trays, tins and glassware which I sent off to the thrift shop willingly.
Whilst on a roll I went through my closet and bedroom drawers with the same vigour and ruthlessness. Piles of clothing and even a few shoes were donated to the Salvos and my resulting closet was a dream to use once again. But alas all this cleansing was still not enough…
Sick as a dog with a massive dose of the flu, I packed our entire home in three full days of snot dripping, chest heaving, eye watering, damn hard work, while Benny packed single handedly the sheds, outdoor and garden stuff plus the patio furniture into a 20 foot container. As I wrapped and boxed I was ruthless, discarding mountains and mountains of stuff as I went. I donated no less than the equivalent of ten tea chests full of everything from shoes to toys, books and magazines to utensils (in fact a box of which I had prepared earlier).
There were several runs to the dump because it is astounding how many bent, broken and irreparable things you hang on to “just in case”. Even our son Lawson got in on the act and as he was packing his room he dedicated one box to things the neighbours kids might like. Which of course they did!
So thinking I had done am amazing job I continued to pack, shaking my head as the boxes began to fill the corners then take over the walls of each of the rooms in our house.
The day before the house settled the removalists arrived bright and early, an hour too early to be precise and began the task of fitting our possessions into another 20ft container on the back of their truck. Somewhere around mid morning after utilising all their combined tetris skills they closed the doors and sent for a second truck! Oh the embarrassment!!!
Needless to say I was shocked and dismayed. I can only put down this mass accumulation to the fact that we had a biggish house on acreage and it acted like some sort of shit magnet! For a family of only three who plan in the future to either; A) live on a boat, or B) live in a container house, we sure do need to rid ourselves of about three quarters of what we currently own. In fact Benny has suggested that when we move to the next destination (a temporary rental) that we should only keep those things that; serve a purpose, provide comfort and things that make us smile. This coming from a man who has carted around for the best part of twenty years a small but heavy, analogue TV “just in case”… we will see Benny, we will see.
I’d love to know about your moving experiences. Let me know if your love it or detest it in the comments below.