We're in the process of moving! It's completely chaotic. Can't find anything. Can't think straight. Have got used to living a mere 5 minute walk from Collegiate rather than a 30 minute drive so it was even more chaotic this morning. I think moving is like having a baby. If you could remember what it was like no one would ever do it more than once!
But anyway.
Gareth and Tabitha came around yesterday morning at about half past ten. The Builder had already packed most of our stuff into the van and was just waiting for Gareth to arrive to put the washing machine, freezer and two mattresses on. I'd more or less packed up the kitchen. There's still the study left to do but I need the PC and laptop in one place while I sort them out -- the PC is going to Freyja's and I want some of the files on it moved to the laptop. Made more difficult by the fact that I can't find my USB pen *anywhere*. I saw it last evening; it had gone into hiding by the time I got up this morning! We were ready to roll.
And it was a magnificent day for rolling. The sun was shining; the sky was blue; it was pleasantly warm. Excellent.
So. Over to the new house (we must give it a name. Any suggestions?) we trundled. Gareth and The Builder in the van, Taffa and me in The Vixen. The car and the van were unpacked, then The Builder and Gaz went back to The Mudhut for more stuff and Taffa and I started putting things away. Not very efficiently, I must say. I'm usually much more organised than this when moving. I think it's because there are things in the house which are eventually going to move outside or into the sheds and it kind of cornswaggled me!
Ok. We've now got two van loads of stuff in the house (and a bit of stuff still at the Mudhut). Lunchtime. Not the local pubs. They seem to be heaving with people watching England slaughter Jamaica in a Football Friendly (6-0 doesn't seem all that friendly to me!). Let's try the Hunloke Arms on the A61 up near Wingerworth. It looks OK from the outside. And it is OK. They were watching football in there too, but there was a soccer free zone for us to sit in. I had haddock and chips. The chips were lovely (and clearly freshly made) and haddock was beautifully cooked. The Builder had liver and onions (he doesn't get to eat liver very often because I don't eat it so therefore don't buy it and in any case have no idea how to cook it - and he does so love it). Gareth had steak and ale pie. And Tabitha had the BIGGEST plate of poached mussels in the whole known universe. Even bigger than the plate that The Builder had when we were at the Heifer last December.
Thus fortified we took Tabitha and Gareth back to Sheffield. Lots and lots of thanks to Taffa and Gaz for helping! Loaded the car up again, went to the supermarket for supplies and headed home. To the chaos and confusion that I had happily forgotten about whilst munching on my chips and supping my cider.
Matt (the son-in-law, not the brother) sent a text asking how the move was going. Very, very foolishly I said it seemed to be going quite smoothly, all things considered. Just as I sent that, the muffled swearing and cussing that was emanating from the kitchen, turned into full on Swearing and Cursing and Yelling. The Builder was swapping over the washing machines. The house came with an integrated washing machine, but I really wanted to keep my own, for it is both energy and water efficient and it also has a cold wash cycle which is Very Rare indeed in England. Now, I knew that this process wasn't going altogether swimmingly, by the swearing and cussing I could hear, but I deemed it best to keep out the way and get on with organising places for us to sit and somewhere for us to sleep. The change in tone suggested that I should investigate and quite quickly. Oops. The kitchen is merrily flooding with water. Hot water. Very, very hot water. We neither of us knew where the main water tap was. We had no possible idea how to turn the water supply off. Oh no! The kitchen floor is also brand spanking new and is rapidly becoming a pond bed. Oh, and The Builder is rootling around in the cupboard under the sink trying to stem the downpour from the washing machine hot tap which had just disintegrated in his hand, and is starting to cook. I ran upstairs and turned the (combination -- hot water on demand) boiler off. Didn't stop the flow of water but at least it was no longer hot! Eventually, the Builder found the switch. Under a (fixed!) shelf in the farthest possible corner of the under-the-sink cupboard. Mopping up commenced. The Builder now has a sore head where he banged it on the under-the-sink cupboard top; a sore back which gave out on him while he was straining to turn off the water; hot paws where the hot, hot water tried to cook him; a short temper because it had all gone horribly wrong.
I blame Matt, myself. He should have known better than to ask such a question. It was bound to go horribly wrong after that. Still. No real harm done. The towels all needed washing anyway and the kitchen floor seems to have survived. And we have water in the rest of the house. Don't ask me how but The Builder seems to have managed it. But that needs fixing. If *I* should have a sudden need to turn off the water, I need a tap. Somewhere obvious. That I can turn off. Not a small screw type thing in the farthest reaches of a cupboard that I need a screwdriver for!
Enough then. No more for the evening. It's time for a stiff gin and tonic or three and a stroll in the garden in the sunshine. Then we finished off the roast chicken we've been eating this week (it was expensive in that it cost near on £10 at the Chatsworth farm shop, but we've had three main meals and two lunches out of it and under normal circumstances would also have soup. But I'm not making soup today!) with Jersey Royals and asparagus and lettuce and tomatoes and bean shoots and sweet corn with tzatziki and a balsamic vinegar dressing and drank wine and retired to bed.Which I had fortunately made up before the Great Washing Machine disaster.
I think things moved themselves around in the night. Not only can I not now find my USB pen, but the screwdrivers went AWOL and my pink bag had gone into hiding and things just weren't where they should be. I really must tidy up a bit this evening. Though we won't be back till late. I'm in the relative peace and tranquility of the Collegiate Learning Centre today. The Builder is a-buildering at the Mudhut. Freyja is going around this afternoon to pack up more of her stuff, then we're taking it (and her) back to her new flat. Haven't seen it yet. It overlooks the river Don. And she tells me there are ducks!
It was lovely this morning, in amongst all the chaos. The sun was shining. There were loads of birds, and I ate my breakfast (very, very quickly) looking at fields and listening to the birds and some sheep. You can see horses on the hill too.
Think tidy, orderly, calm thoughts!
No comments:
Post a Comment