Tired, and sore-footed, sitting on our OWN couch for the first time in 46 nights. Ah, we missed her. Had to promise not to mistreat her like that again before she’d let us sit down…
Good news: our stuff arrived, it’s largely packed in, away, on, or near an appropriate receptacle. The kids are asleep, the coffee machine is working satisfactorily, and a chubby wooden fellow is posing contentedly at the far end of the lounge. At least he can breathe again. Actually, I say “he”, but I can’t remember whether the gender of the imposed Huberta nickname ever stuck, or whether he reverted to being a male hippo, but it’s not really important at this stage.
Not so good news: Had a run-in with the bank this morning trying to pay our initial deposit. Grrrr… one hour later we managed to run furtively across town with a lot of £20 notes under my arm. I found out later that it was all due to the despicably inefficient mail room staff at my office – they couldn’t be bothered to forward mail until it’s enough to make the trip worthwhile. So my PIN number mail never arrived in time for me to use my new card to pay the deposit. Hence the bank-branch scurrying, paying in cash, and more than just a few phone calls to HSBC Anti-Fraud division. Almost know the ladies there well enough to invite them over for tea.
Further bad news is that our queen size bed is not good at negotiating staircases. The mattress made the trip, but the base did not. So we have a base set in the garage, and a mattress on the floor. Will have to make a plan about that. At least it saves us the indignity of falling out of bed in the morning. Falling into bed is a much more likely event. On the plus side, we’ve obtained what I guess could be called a Free Upgrade in the communications world – Queen size in SA is equivalent to a King size here. Woo hoo. I’m sure the garage is chuffed to have such royalty incumbent.
The TV cabinet was something we ummed & ahhed about taking with us. Shouldn’t have bothered. It’s enjoying the company of the base set in the garage. Along with some junk the previous tenants left behind, meaning that the car is unable to fit inside. Oh bother, said Pooh. In fact, the Pooh reference is very apt, as it turns out that the garage is just small enough that when the door is open, the car can’t fit inside. I’ve tried fitting the car in when the door is closed, but all I heard is Rabbit mumbling about not having any honey any more.
We’re going to a Steam train weekend at the Gloucestershire-Warwickshire railway. Special weekend this – called “Day out with Thomas”. As you can imagine, one wee lad is somewhat ecstatic. Just adds to the general excitement about the new house, which had already come close to reaching fever pitch. I’d gone shopping for lunch while Cilla was unpacking, and picked up a bottle of Nutella chocolate spread. Anna came back from school to see this, and exclaimed “Our new house, AND chocolate spread! This is the BEST DAY EVER!!!!” Easy to please. However, a hard act to follow – can’t see us moving house anytime soon…
So, the final step of the first step has been completed, and we can now settle down into a routine of sorts. Somehow managed to make that sentence imply that our lives from here on out will be the boring middle-class existence decried in more than a few sitcoms, but we’ll do our best to avoid that miserable fate.