Moving day

We woke up early on moving day to almost an empty house. Anything that was small enough to be boxed up had been packed and taken over to our new home. Our old bed was beyond the move so we took it apart and it went to the tip. Our final nights there were spent on a mattress on the floor.

After breakfast we packed our last bowls, mugs and spoons, odd food, bedding, towels and a suitcase into the back of the car.  The removal men arrived on time at 7.30 in the morning. The weather was good; warm and sunny and no wind, ideal for having windows and doors open for the removal of furniture. I spent my time moving from room to room trying not to get in the way. Empty rooms were a bit difficult as I went round for a last look. Eventually I ended up sat on the edge of the bath and shed a few tears. Many years ago when I painted our daughter’s bedroom I painted hearts in the corners near to the ceiling. I remembered how excited I had been putting the finishing touches to her room. Once the room was empty my attention was drawn to those hearts. That really was the only time I felt sad.

Once we arrived at our new home I was really busy. I’d made plans of all the rooms and knew exactly where the furniture had to go. I guided the removal men and everything fit into place as it should! It was almost lunch time when the removal men finished by building our new bed for us as arranged. We had arrived at last.