Confessions of a Happy Housewife

Moving Homes – It Gets Worse Before it Gets Better

7 Apr , 2014  

Hello everyone and sorry for my belated post. I’ve been busy moving homes and planning the new look for my blog. New home, new blog, new life! I decided to make a lot of changes recently, which sync-ed with our recent home relocation, associated with my husband’s job. He was offered the job and an apartment nearby, which is also brand new and fully-furnished.

We feel very lucky to have found this apartment for relatively less than we expected. We paid a reasonable deposit, though. The only thing that really bothered me is that all the surfaces are really glossy, even though they are not expensive, they look fancy and are difficult to maintain. I feel dirty simply by being in the house. I am afraid that something can get scratched. The kitchen counters and the glass dining table have fingerprints right now and I cleaned them this morning. It is driving me crazy.

I am not used to it – it is so impractical.┬áMaintaining the home is one side of living in it and in this home I will try to to do my best to make it look good and feel ours. Truth be told, I am starting to like it a lot, as sceptical as I was! I don’t easily get used to such changes. If you have been a frequent reader to my blog, you will know I am very sentimental. I easily get attached to people, places and things. This is what happened to me when we moved to our first home. I don’t handle relocations easily. Neither did my old cat Alice, who was constipated for days after we moved. Even after we took her to the local vet and they gave her medicine, she continued to give us headaches, as she would just NOT go to the toilet. This went on for 6 days. She is now, okay, plotting to take over the world as usual.

In the meantime I felt a bit stressed and lonely. My husband was there, but he had to either be with the local movers, at work, or sorting out papers, medical records, or was taking the cat to the vet. So there I was, in this beautiful, but empty home, having nothing of my own there, only mixed feelings, not knowing how to use the dishwasher, which by the way has sensors and a character, apparently, as it won’t start unless you pour enough dish washing salts in it. And don’t get me started on the oven! The first few days we were too tired to cook, so we eat Nando’s takeaways in the middle of our luggage, because half of our stuff was occupying the table and clothes piled on our bed as I kept opening the boxes.

Well, that’s that. Soon I might share some pictures of how it looks once we’ve moved all our staff and arranged it.

Lana Jane Fox

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