Moving Stories…


We were at the house in Lucas for a month, less than a month really but it felt like more.

The main reason was that unlike the other places we have stayed during these years of homelessness, there was absolutely nothing to do around the house or the garden because it wasn’t ours!  It didn’t belong to a family member where we could tinker and it wasn’t part of Trusted Housesitters where we were expected to keep the place running smoothly.

In the lovely Hacienda style ranch we Were, as in the verb, To Be.

We grew adept at mindfulness.

When we grew weary of Being we found excuses to go out,

We ruled out areas to live,

We visited children (no matter how long the drive),

We saw movies,

We frequented restaurants,


We shopped!

Then the day for our move dawned.

For some reason I had Sunday’s date (November 16th) firmly implanted in my head but our move-in was Saturday 15th.

Remember that!

We left the house, all packed up and quietly, and headed to the apartments back in our old stomping ground.   The sign outside the locked door informed us that Saturday hours of business commenced, European style, at 10am.

We had an hour to fill.

My stomach was already a mess of nerves so breakfast didn’t sound good.  Off we went to IHOP where pancakes appealed to hubs and he ordered over our steaming mugs of coffee.

The pancakes arrived and were scoffed at and sent back… hardly 25 cents worth of mix for $7.00, where’s the reason in that?

We  left to sign our lease on empty stomachs.



As I walked through the empty apartment I thought,

“This is smaller than I remember,” (we’d grown accustomed to the large house).  At least it was on the ground floor which would make the move easier for our A Team Movers.

We used the couple of spare hours to shuttle suitcases and bits and bobs from the warehouse to the flat and begin filling closets.

I defrosted chicken because Daughts and her boyfriend were coming over later to help unpack (code for dinner).

At noon we headed to our son and his wife’s house where the packing up was to start and waited.

We would have waited for the rest of the afternoon had it not been for hubs’ sheer determination not to be taken for a ride,

Don’t Mess With Texas applies to Texans too!

The tap dancing was becoming transparent, our calls were not being returned, the light was rapidly fading and our storage unit has no electricity…

…at 230pm we called the whole thing off when we determined the Team would be at least another couple of hours.

Our move was now to take place on Sunday December 16th, (call it what you like but that’s the date I’d been carrying around in my head for weeks)  It was twilight and the zone was hitting!

We headed back to our empty flat, cooked the chicken, stopped at the store for deli plates, cutlery and a good Caesar salad, picked up bedding from storage, made it to mass to re-establish our equilibrium and faith in mankind…well, not all mankind…and met Daughts back at the new place.

She’d been rehearsing nearby for her upcoming Nutcracker.

We toasted our new place, spread a quilt on the carpet and picnicked on the floor.


Pure deliciousness washed down with Champagne…of course!

The day was a fiasco but the evening, thanks to our brilliant company, was a total blast and blew all the disappointments away.

Now sleeping on the floor was quite another story!!


All I can say is, praise the Lord I don’t have to do that on a regular basis and the morrow brought with it a heart shaped egg yolk,


and enthusiasm for a new day!



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