You would think that once the boxes are unpacked, the beds are made and the removals vans have gone that the whole home move would be over. Newsflash, it’s not!
I moved house over two months ago now, you can find out more about the journey on myhouseremovals.uk, still I’m recovering from the stress of the move and organising everything new!
The move itself was stressful, but it’s over now. We are settled and we’re happy to be in our dream home. It seems though that there’s a lot of areas that still need attention before we really can call this place home.
I’m married to a painter and decorator and he is having a hard time of it right now. I thought I could easily live with the magnolia walls, in reality, I can’t. They feel cold and lack character and I really can’t wait for new paint to be splashed all over. The children too are complaining that they miss colour in their own rooms but my husband is only one man!
Outside there’s quite a lot of work to be done too, especially before winter, wood needs treating and masonry needs painting before the damp sets in. The Local Area
I’m used to buying things online as I work at a PC everyday but I did take for granted the local connections I had when living in Malton, York. For example, I knew I could pop to BATA for a top up if we ran out of oil. I could ask the neighbours for a bale of straw for the animals. I could easily find a late night chemist when I needed one and I knew which supermarkets delivered to my door. Here it is all new. I’m paying fortunes on delivery because I have no idea about the local area. You may tell me to Google. I’ve tried that! I’m living in the middle of rural Devon and local businesses don’t even have broadband let alone a presence online!
I’ve also been told I’m a Grokel. Which means I’m a newbie and not a local. People tell me it takes ten years to lose this title!
In your home you’ll be familiar with those noises that go bump in the night. You’ll know that it’s simply the floorboards or the pipes. New homes throw up all sorts of new noises and I’ve now lost count of the times I thought we had an intruder. I’ve ventured downstairs with the closest thing I could find (once it was a cucumber, the next it was my iPad) only to discover it’s the boiler heating the water ready for the morning.
Everywhere I’ve been related to health, the doctors, dentist, hospital, they’ve all asked for my NHS number. This is something I really don’t think about. One receptionist refused to let me in for my pre-booked appointment with the doctor without it. It reminds me of the film Scum, “you’re not a name, you’re a number mate”.
I’m sure there will be many more nuances to discover about our new area, for now, I think this is quite enough. I also have to shoot off as somehow we’ve got 27 sheep in the office gardens. Heaven knows where they came from, look!
