I am writing to you today from my home, not the caravan.
It’s strange to be home for what is probably going to be the
last time I will ever be in my home town.
Busying myself with packing books, DVDs, comics, clothes and
all sorts of other bits of junk.
I can’t stay on line for long because there are 5 (yes 5)
book cases to take down and a wall to paint so I will just get straight to the
point (blimey, there’s a point to this...)
I will shortly be relocating from the caravan to a proper
house. I haven’t lived in a place that has more than one room for over 18
months.
I’ve got used to living in an 18’ aluminium box for the past
year and a half and am worried that the change will snap my already fragile
psyche.
I am a creature of habit and the daily process of have to
build my bed each night and carry water containers back and forth so I can make
a cup of tea will soon become a faded memory.
I will soon re-know the joy of having a working tap with hot
water coming out of it.
The elemental feeling of not having to travel across the
site to have a shower or a bath will be something I plan to take full advantage
of.
I will be able to watch a selection of television channels!
I will have the use of over three plug sockets.
These things will no doubt change my outlook on life
somewhat.
But how will these things that most take for granted affect
my views on life?
Only time will tell.
Chances are, not a lot. If anything due to the fact that I
will have my run of modern technology and household plumbing I will have slightly
more time o mull over the stupidity of the human race and find myself exposed
to even more idiotic behaviour via the goggle box.
The hardest thing will be having to share my living space.
Mrs H will be moving down shortly and that’s when things
will really kick off.
We have both gotten used to our own space and have to share
things is going to be tough.
I know that as a man I will undoubtedly and catastrophically
lose any and all arguments, decisions, and rows.
But for now it’s back to the packing.
I hate packing.
*please note there are no stupid pictures this week because the internet connection is stupidly slow oop north and I cant be bothered waiting an age to one to download... so just think of something funny and then comment on what you saw in your minds eye. thankyou.
With a distinct lack of imagination and a rumbling stomach, all I could think of was a bag of chips with onion vinegar...sorry...
ReplyDeleteI used to have a problem with sharing, I would put it here, but I just realised it'd make a good blog...
ReplyDeleteThe secret is to ease yourself in. Don't go crazy running all the taps, turning on all the lights and plugging in every appliance at once!
ReplyDeleteThere's enough space for you to both have your own rooms. Then you can finally get a racing car bed.
ReplyDeletePacking sucks. So does sharing. But at least you don't have to leave your home for a shower!
ReplyDeleteHave you considered the option of making a room a reproduction of your humble caravan so that in moments of crisis you can lock yourself in for a few days. Wash in the garden and carry water to Mrs H to use as she will.
ReplyDeleteGood Luck,
As the old saying goes .......
lets wipe the slate clean or on a good day the entire roof
Good luck with the move! What's your address? I'll send you some celebratory fireworks through the post.
ReplyDelete