relocation, relocation

I’m staring at an empty bookshelf and marvelling at the towers of boxes surrounding me. I arrived in the UK six years ago with one suitcase and it has now taken me three full days to pack our possessions in preparation for our move tomorrow. It’s hard to believe that we have lived here for more than two years in our first little flat as a married couple. And when I say little, I mean little. Hence, the upgrade.
Nostalgia makes me sentimental. That’s until I recall the nights of surround sound thanks to the neighbour upstairs, or the constant cigarette fumes from the people beside us and let me not neglect the granny downstairs who blasts her opera music every time our washing machine goes into spin cycle. Despite all that, I’m going to miss this place. So many hours of DIY to make it our own, Fox’s ingenious rewiring, trips to home stores to find the perfect mirror or lampshade and there is, of course, the world’s most expensive tie-backs (long time blog devotees might remember the dedication that went into making these). We’ve really made it ours over the years and it’s hard to let go.
But then, I am looking forward to a full-size fridge, my own study and a balcony where I can keep the live, potted Christmas tree which I have refused to let Fox leave out for the council to turn into compost. Hey, at least we don’t have to buy one this year! There are all new streets to learn as we cross the border from SW15 to SW18 (albeit only by one mile) and new locals to explore.
Farewell, Harwood. We have done all we can, outgrown the space you offer and now leave you in the hands of another who I’m sure will cherish you as much as we have. Farewell, Putney. It is perhaps you I will miss the most, with your crazy high street, convenient transport links and your all-round good reputation. However, we’re just down the road so I will see you often for walks along the river and dinner in your eateries. But it’s time to say goodbye…