It is said, and I believe it, that moving house is one of
the most stressful things to deal with. I have moved seventeen times and would
dearly like an eighteenth. I know we’ll simply have to bite the bullet, throw
caution to the wind and go for it, otherwise we’ll be here for another
thirty-odd years looking at the same neighbourhood. Actually, we probably won’t,
unless we both live to some great age, defining all medical issues. That’s why
we’ve got to move now. I’m feeling a bit stressed now at the thought of it and
wish something would happen to make it easier. Ideally, we could buy a property
without waiting for a sale on ours. Perfect. Modern static caravans are
breathtakingly stunning with all mod-cons, but we want a house. Besides, where
would we put all our stuff? I’m having another stressful shudder. We will have
to downsize, I know that, it’s how to do it efficiently. What a struggle. We’ve
lived here over thirty years, two became three, became four then more often
than not, five. Now we’re down to the two of us again. I can’t gauge portion
control in the kitchen just for two, so there’s no chance of me deciding if we
need three televisions and a cupboard full of bath towels. Books are completely
out of any conversation, no reduction necessary, they are all coming. They are
not being boxed up until we have a moving date. A moving date, that’s so scary,
because where to? It has got to be Scotland. This move has got to be a proper
relocation. I’m not packing up to move to a bungalow two miles away. All the
stress has got to be worth my while.
I remember feeling stressed when I moved here and nothing
could have been easier. Piece by piece we brought things from my little house
in Layton. Anything not needed stayed behind. Eventually that little house went
on the market and was sold. I should have kept it and rented it out – hindsight
is a wonderful thing.
Long before that, there was the escape from a nasty
landlord. Nothing illegal, rent paid up to date, just a horrible, creepy man.
All my worldly goods crammed into two cars, mine and my father’s. It had to be done in a few hours to avoid
confrontation. We managed. My things were stacked in Dad’s garage and I took up
residence in his spare room. The stress involved here was waiting for my
passport to come through the post, which it did, just in time, otherwise I
would have had to go back. It was good to leave the key and no forwarding
address.
This time I will leave a forwarding address, otherwise I’ll
have no visitors and friends will always be welcome. Anyway, while I’m nervous,
twitchy and trying to attempt a positive step forward into the unknown, I’ll
just close my eyes and relax for a moment.
My poem:
Is of a quiet, peaceful scene.
Outside, the wint’ry, dark’ning skies
Hide the cosy, Crofter’s cottage.
A Heavenly place where I’m free,
It’s time to relax and return
To the open book on my knee
And glow from the log-burning stove.
By the window, my armchair,
With plumped up cushions and a throw.
A resting place, for moments rare,
Like now to bring me back to earth.
A momentary stress release,
A daydream of hope and wishes,
Until I’m rested and at ease,
Feeling ready for the next thing.
PMW 2021
Thanks for reading, Pam x
4 comments:
We are thinking of downsizing, no longer need a 3 bedroom house. A nice compact cottage or flat with a garden would suit but it's a big and stressful thing to contemplate when you're in your 60s and have lived in the same house for 30 years!
That's me, Rochelle. Good luck 🙂
You prompted me to total up the number of moves I've made in my lifetime: 15 excluding various university pads). I suppose the families of military people, publicans and vicars have a higher than normal count of moves. I sometimes wonder if my house in Blackpool will be my last move. Who knows? I enjoyed your imagined peaceful, easy feeling poem. Good luck if/when you make the move Pam. By then Scotland may be an independent country!
Agree about the stress involved in moving. I don't want to put a downer on your dreams but I used to work in a hospital in Bournemouth and we regularly found that couples would move to the seaside resort in pursuit of their own dreams and found that they were lonely and in many cases one or both of the couple would pass away within a few years of moving there. But I wish you well.
I enjoyed your peaceful poem.
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