So a week later I am back at The Peddler, this isn’t where I thought I would end up today, and I am not sure it is good for my waistline or emotional state, but nevertheless I am here.  And while I was trying to be fancy and just casually read a book as I sip on my tea and munch on my super late breakfast, my mind is running at one hundred miles an hour, and so what better way to process things by getting them out in the open.  So instead, I am now sitting here typing… Back at the peddler reflecting on the past week and all that has happened.

A little while ago I wrote about my mixed feelings about moving, about how it turns out I actually really don’t cope well with change and how I was torn between wanting to stay in the familiar and being excited about this new adventure.  Well now the move has happened… Quite smoothly I might add thanks to my overly organised colour coded packing spectacular.  But it all happened quite quickly, and while we are headed back to our old place tomorrow to clean it so that it is ready for whatever it’s next chapter holds, I have really been struggling with the whole thing.

I know it takes time, and I just need to give it that, time to adjust, time to get used to driving from different places, time to find some familiar things, but right now I just feel so out of place, so far away and a little isolated.  I should be enjoying setting up my new home, making it feel like us again, but I’m not… Not yet anyway! In my head I know it will get better, that I will adjust, that I will love it, but right now my heart is betraying me, and every time I drive through our old neighbour hood or even remotely near our old house, I get this overwhelming sense of ‘this is where I belong’ which then means when I am actually at my new home, my actual home, I feel dislodged and a little miserable.

There are moments when I get really excited about the new place, like on Monday when it was buzzing with the sounds of fun, and lots of people as Dave had a function there after work, or when I get to pick out new colours or features to display, when I get to plan my new home gym and what furniture I might like for the living area, but at the moment the longing to go back seems a little louder than the potential of the new place (especially when you through in a few unexpected joys like, unearthed electricity, a moving toilet and a missing phone line).  And the truth is I’m not sure there is an answer to how to fix this feeling… Other than time, and I am sure I am not the only person who has felt like this before… But I just needed to let it out… To say that at the moment, I just really miss where I was… But that this too shall pass!

We are in… kind of…

We are in… Well kind of… We have the keys and we have moved a few things, we have also changed a wet dog smell that seemed to permeate every inch if the house into a shampooed dog smell and now… Well hopefully a clean smell… But we are still working on it.  And if I am honest I am feeling relieved that I am starting to get excited about the move, there are definitely still reservations and nerves, but there are some bits that I just want to get stuck into.  I have big plans… Really big plans… There are so many possibilities… And I can at there very least put them all on my ever growing house wish list, because we have a house… And it’s really ours… I can walk around it and imagine new colours and furniture and rooms… And it’s exciting…


Trying not to be a hoarder!

So this move is getting pretty close and over the past couple of weeks I have been trying my best not to be a hoarder.  It turns out that it’s harder than I thought.  I was really hoping this would be a great opportunity for me to let go, and in many ways it has been, but it has also made me realise how much stuff I have, which has no current purpose, yet I can’t bring myself to throw out. 

I know I have talked about my emotional attachment to inanimate objects on the blog before, but while packing my belongings into countless boxes I have realised how deep that attachment runs.  You know you have a problem when you are filling your third box of stuffed toys… Now to all of you out there who say just chuck it, you don’t need it…. I know, I know that I don’t need it, I probably never really needed it in the first place, but now I have it… And I can’t let it go.  It’s not like I haven’t thrown anything out, coz I have.  Although just as a side note, I have also decided that I am not into mindlessly contributing to landfill while we move house and cull our things, so when something does make it to the ‘I don’t want it anymore’ we have to actually think about where it goes from there… Is it donate worthy? Can it be recycled? It really should fit into either of those two categories, and when it doesn’t it makes me sad. Anyway, the point is I am stuck at a point where I know I have too much… And it probably can’t all come with me, but I am not sure how to let it go, or even where to start.  I have been trying my darnedest to be ruthless as I go through things I haven’t seen or used for years… But as soon as the memory floodgates open, it’s all over red rover!  Honestly how can you part with your favourite soft toys? Your surprisingly large collection of Eeyores? Or that set of book you spent years and years building and reading? How can you just toss out hilarious notes passed by friends?, posters and impressive work that still make you proud even though you made them in school? Or that super cute ballet costume you’ve just always kept? Well, you might be able to, but I am on struggle street.  

So while it’s not ideal, my solution at the moment is to have some maybe boxes… Things that we are taking, but I need to go through again… And probably again and again.  Just to give myself a few more chances to cull.  Hopefully, slowly but surely the volume will decrease and I will be left with just what I really can’t throw away! But for now… I still have a lot of stuff! Wish me luck… And detachment!