Slippery Slope
I've been trying to find a good picture for this post and although I can see the shot in my mind, I can't find the damned photo. Anyway, it was a shot of a ski jumper standing at the top of the slope with their skiis just over the edge, and about to slip over, because that's how I feel at the moment!
I suppose that as the packers are here today you could say I've already jumped off the top and am gathering speed on the way down... We have certainly entered a week of madness and goodness only knows how it's going to work out. Three lads arrived with a lorry, stacks of boxes, and boxes of packing tape this morning, and they're all working in separate rooms. I think all our happy thoughts about being in the house for the next few days are going to go out of the window. For example, I assumed that they would start by boxing up all the small stuff (ornaments, books etc) from each room, and only going for the big stuff (sofas, chairs etc) later in the week. But in fact they work room by room and clear the lot - unless you can persuade them that there is a good case for leaving you something to sit on. So poor Ella is going to come back this afternoon and find that all of her books, toys and furniture has been removed from her bedroom apart from her bed, bedding, and if I'm lucky a couple of soft toys!
(small pause while I try to rescue soft toys... Oh no! BAD MUMMY! All the soft toys have been packed... Aaargh! Luckily, very nice Ben says he'll open a box for me.... phew!!! I've managed to rescue Piggy and Lady! OK, enough exclamation marks for now...)
It's enough to drive you mad. Our bed has become an island of 'stuff not to be packed' while the lads get into boxing up everything. Ella's room is almost done; Patrick's is next up; the lounge is a sea of boxes and one sofa left forlornly against the radiator - too small to accommodate all four of us so I'm guessing we'll be using it in shifts this evening... Perhaps Patrick should be going out to the pub with his mates after all! My study is being boxed up as I speak - hopefully I have kept the right paperwork regarding my PhD because there's no chance of getting in there and sorting anything else out now. Michael and I are taking refuge in the kitchen and crossing all available digits that we haven't completely mucked this up. Luckily I have a large pile of important documents squatting on the island unit at the moment, waiting to go in our hand luggage along with all our cash and (very little!) jewellery, none of which can be shipped. So I find myself in the slightly daft position of having to hand-carry pension documents regarding a pension that I can't collect for another twenty years, but I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.
I suppose that as the packers are here today you could say I've already jumped off the top and am gathering speed on the way down... We have certainly entered a week of madness and goodness only knows how it's going to work out. Three lads arrived with a lorry, stacks of boxes, and boxes of packing tape this morning, and they're all working in separate rooms. I think all our happy thoughts about being in the house for the next few days are going to go out of the window. For example, I assumed that they would start by boxing up all the small stuff (ornaments, books etc) from each room, and only going for the big stuff (sofas, chairs etc) later in the week. But in fact they work room by room and clear the lot - unless you can persuade them that there is a good case for leaving you something to sit on. So poor Ella is going to come back this afternoon and find that all of her books, toys and furniture has been removed from her bedroom apart from her bed, bedding, and if I'm lucky a couple of soft toys!
(small pause while I try to rescue soft toys... Oh no! BAD MUMMY! All the soft toys have been packed... Aaargh! Luckily, very nice Ben says he'll open a box for me.... phew!!! I've managed to rescue Piggy and Lady! OK, enough exclamation marks for now...)
It's enough to drive you mad. Our bed has become an island of 'stuff not to be packed' while the lads get into boxing up everything. Ella's room is almost done; Patrick's is next up; the lounge is a sea of boxes and one sofa left forlornly against the radiator - too small to accommodate all four of us so I'm guessing we'll be using it in shifts this evening... Perhaps Patrick should be going out to the pub with his mates after all! My study is being boxed up as I speak - hopefully I have kept the right paperwork regarding my PhD because there's no chance of getting in there and sorting anything else out now. Michael and I are taking refuge in the kitchen and crossing all available digits that we haven't completely mucked this up. Luckily I have a large pile of important documents squatting on the island unit at the moment, waiting to go in our hand luggage along with all our cash and (very little!) jewellery, none of which can be shipped. So I find myself in the slightly daft position of having to hand-carry pension documents regarding a pension that I can't collect for another twenty years, but I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.
posted by Sara Bowen at 12:23 pm
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