we're moving home tomorrow & thursday. from a massive house with 5 bedrooms, 4 reception rooms and 16 acres to a bungalow about 1/10th the size with a postage-stamp garden. i am looking forward to it. the new house has a nice feel to it, gorgeous views, the kids are mega-excited, and everything is newly painted and lovely.
because of the 'downsizing', as the english call it, i have been decluttering like a madwoman (and nobody signed up for my moving home giveaway, can you believe it??). result: the house is a total bombsite. OK - tons of clothes & toys & furniture have disappeared but does my house look any tidier for it? nope! i have nowhere to sit, so far so good, but the floors are covered with sorting out piles, sorted out piles, and 'also to move' piles. i haven't even started work on the shed yet. still - i collected the keys to the new place this morning & am fairly optimistic i'll find a home for all my stuff.
the removals men are due here at 9 am tomorrow morning. 3 more cupboards to empty & sort as well as the shed. however, behind me, in the fridge a glass of dry white whispers my name & my tummy is rumbling in the knowledge of the fillet steak, salad & skinny french fries that are on the menu... 9am is very late. that gives me at least 2 hours of sorting between grown-ups' waking up time & children's waking up time tomorrow morning. i have a 'flow' subscription to sort out for the new house, a log to post, plans to make...