Moving

On 3rd March we got up early because we had to dismantle our bed and put all the stuff we weren't taking with us out on the pavement to be uplifted by the Council.

We took a last look at our email knowing that we wouldn't be online again for some time. Channel 4 had decided to put a bit about Toast in the Post on their website so we started to get orders for "I Love You" toast on the day of the move.

Our movers arrived and had a look round. They weren't happy. The particularly weren't happy with the amount of garden stuff to be moved (pots, statues, dismantled swings, tools etc). They were even less happy when it started to snow heavily.

Despite being unwilling to take any of our paint, they must have taken Reggie the Herbal (Gerbil/Hamster thing) and, unbelievably, a bag of dirty nappies.

We had already been visited by an "estimator" who had seen everything that had to be moved so it came as a bit of a surprise when the movers said nothing else would fit in the van ("Ye widnae get a fag paper in there").

We couldn't physically carry everything that was left over and all the taxis were fully booked so we left a heap of stuff in the front garden and carried the rest. And so, we arrived at our new house looking like the Clampitts. Nigel pushed the Lucy & Georgie in the double buggy carrying a portable fridge in one hand and a bag slung over his shoulder. The shopping trolley of the buggy was laden with misc bits and a mirror.

When we walked in our new house we were delighted to discover that the previous owner had kindly set the table for dinner and had even labelled in which cupboard he had left tea, coffee, sugar, mugs and milk. This thoughtful gesture was the first of many we were later to discover.

We really wanted to settle in straight away but of course the removers were still unpacking. And sighing. And moaning. We had followed their company's guidelines to the letter (dismantled flatpacks, drew up floorplans, labelled boxes etc) and thought we had been quite flexible in the positioning of stuff "if it hasn't got a label, put it in the garage".

Meanwhile, Mr F brought round all the stuff from the garden that wouldn't fit in the van. When they finally left, we began to relax. Laura and Kev began to unpack boxes in the kitchen and then I realised we hadn't seen Reggie. Twenty minutes of climbing over boxes in the garage later, we discovered him - none the worse for his ordeal.