Moving…and possibly shaking

It had to happen eventually; the flat has become a wee bit too small for the three of us. Like the goldfish in the bowl, we’ve grown to fit our flat and every spare space has been commandeered for some purpose or other. The living/dining room is now also the office, the work room, the bike repair room and also the cat sleeping area. The kitchen is small but functional but also plays host to the main bike of the house as well as the recycling pile. In the back bedroom, it’s a heady mix of laundry, bikes, wood, the tumble drier and 2 shelving units with important/useful boxes of useful/important things. More than once, I’ve tripped over the turbo trainer while carrying an armful of wet washing. On one more memorable occasion, I managed to pull the two shelving units down and knocked the mountain bike over, impaling my calf muscle on the chain ring – I still have the scar.

Ok – so ours isn’t this big, but it’s also not as bad

 

It was only a matter of time before we made the decision to move. We’d been looking for houses and it seemed that each time we found somewhere that met all the criteria, there was a stumbling block. We found a house that was the right type, distance to work, space and amenities only to be told at the end of the viewing that no pets were accepted, not even a cat. If that was mentioned on the details, we would have saved ourselves the hour it took to get there and view it. Agents, please take the time to get ALL the details on your property listings. The next one was also lovely but we were pipped to the post by another couple. A few more were possible but were either in the wrong area or wrong price. We stopped actively looking and went back to our little flat, happy with our lot.

Fate intervened in the form of a chance message from a friend one night. Said friend was at their friend’s house who happened to have a house, in our preferred location, at a sensible price who just so happened to be looking for new tenants. Really? Really. A few messages later, I had a number and the following day we went to visit. [side note: I’d written another 2 paragraphs about the house and then the flipping cat walked across the keyboard and deleted it]. The house, as I’d previously mentioned before the cat interrupted, was fabulous and from the kerb I knew I liked it. We were shown around and then we went back round just to make sure  I we liked enough to live in – we did. From the non-existent bathroom (it was being remodelled and at the time, the bathroom was technically in the living room to the kitchen with french windows and an eye level oven.

Yes. These do make me happy.

 

Long story even shorter than before, we got the house and we start the move process on Saturday. We have a week off work to get the old flat empty and clean before we have to hand the keys back so we aren’t having to get everything out and ship-shape in 24 hours. A small thing that makes a massive difference to the stress levels. I’m finding the whole move bitter-sweet but looking forward to a new grown up house for almost grown up people. Our flat was our first home together that was “ours” as a couple and it has been a fabulous first home. We got married here, I proposed here, I had my 30th birthday here and we’ve had so many good times here and I really hope that the next tenants enjoy it as much as we have. I’m also really looking forward to the new house, to the house-warming that will be inevitable, to the summer in the garden (a GARDEN people!!) and to all the other good stuff that will come too.

To new starts, new homes and a new chapter of our lives. Now, where did I put the kettle?

 

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