Thursday, September 17, 2009

By the sweat of our brows...and backs...and armpits...

In tribute to my niece's favourite TV show:

Moving Day, it's Moving Day;
Moving Day, it's Moving Day!
It's not Theorem-Proving Day!

Today's the day we move!

My life has been consigned once again to the confines of two, it has mostly been consigned to the confines of two suitcases. To be perfectly accurate, thanks to some much needed purchases, (wellies, pillows, and duvet complete with cover - thanks to Yvonne and IKEA) my stuff runneth over into an extra bag or two.

I'm quite pleased at the ease with which everything was stowed away once again. Thankfully, this time, the move isn't nearly so far (NW6 all the way to NW1) and once the boys have all of their things down in the Wimbledon Park house, I'll have Sebastian and the Street Van at my disposal. I love the autumn and attendant chill probably more than the next person, but I'm well glad to avoid the Shackleton-esque trek to and from the Tube with 100+ lbs. of my personal belongings clanging and clattering untidily behind.

So the morning has been spent in last-minute packing and van-stocking. Seb, Angus, and Rob have been running (and occasionally tripping/falling) up and down the stairs of the flat moving boxes of bedding, books, and other belongings from the over-crowded lounge into the van. At peak capacity last night, the living room was starting to resemble the Room of Requirement from Harry Potter: haphazard stacks and piles of books, electronics, and boxes vying for space on the floor and coffee tables, with a mustachio'd cardboard Angus (complete with Dracula cape) peering out from the only clear floor space by the window.

The flat's male contingent now absent to go sign the tenancy agreement and move their first van-load of stuff into the new terrace, I'm left all to my lonesome to reshuffle food between the refridgerators, make lunch (which I think with glee will consist of a sandwich and lovely oven chips...and a brownie!), and generally keep myself occupied. I'm certain that after some internship searching via the British Museum and V&A some well-earned Grey's Anatomy will be in order. Perish the thought that I'm resting on my laurels! Ne'er would I consider it...I'm simply conserving my strength to attempt to disassemble the bunk beds before the boys get back. Besides: I think I put in considerable hours when painting and cleaning the house with Sebastian last week.

The walls were in a right state once the huge composite posters had been de-blue tac'd from the wall. Lovely little oily marks all clustered in groups of four adorned the walls in the vacant space once occupied by ink-jet-printed, interwebs-furnished posters. We scrubbed: to little avail, all that happened was a layer of paint was shuffled around. And that only with a shoulder-wearying amount of elbow grease. We painted: to even less avail since the paint Seb chanced upon in the attic was a different shade from the dingy eggshell colour currently gracing the walls with its presence. We bandied about with Rob the idea of just painting the whole wall to cover up the hue discrepancies, but tossed the idea out upon remembering the paint-shuffling phenomenon afforded by intensive scrubbing. So back to work it was; armed with Poundland sponges, Shout, and warm soapy water, we removed most of the vestiges of our failed painting attempt and managed to generally conceal the oily blue tac remnants.

Then it was onwards to filling, sanding, and repainting a few dents and chips in the hallway wall and banister. For whatever it's worth, I have put in my vote that push pins become the order of the day for future wall hangings. Then, when move-out time comes, all that is required is a small plastic spatula and some tinted caulk to fill in the tiny holes and then: happy day, all is well.

I'd like to think that my next move will involve much less hassle. Particularly after the paperwork woes we've sifted through this week on top of any packing and coordinating that was required. Fingers are crossed that next time things will be much more leisurely.


  1. Moving = stressful!!! I learnt this fact after moving around London 4 times in my first 5 months in London... on the bright side though... it's harder to keep so many things when you're trying to move them all the time. I dread the thought if I had to move now - I've been in the same place for 2.5 years - eeek!!!

  2. I can't tell you how much I love the fact that, in your niece's favourite TV show, it either has to be moving day OR theorem-proving day. There is no in between :-) What a strangely hectic and academic life that would be, eh?

    Glad to hear the move went well, despite blu-tac horror.

  3. Thankfully, the stress of moving is all over (ominous pause)...for the moment. :-)

    As for the Backyardigans reference (I feel like such a nursery leader now), I've linked to a YouTube video of the *real* song, which I was obliged to watch with my 3-year-old niece about 7 times over. It's a good thing she's so cute!