Still tired after the move …  there, at last I have been able to use that little gem which made me laugh so many moons ago.  The words were uttered by some American comedian – sadly, his name escapes me – with an extremely dry, sarcastic sense of humour and I stored them in the inner sanctum of my memory.  Who knows why?  He just appealed to me, I suppose, and he was referring to his birth as ‘the move’ which made me laugh.  Anyway, entirely appropriate now if not a little understated:  I am completely and utterly wrecked by the move!  Still breathing, though and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger …  really?

So, here I am.  Not entirely sure, however, that I wish to relive the events of the last few days.  Thursday resembled a whirlwind – physically and emotionally – as David and Steve returned with a massive truck at 9am.  They took no prisoners and adhered to their concept of order all but destroying mine in the process.  If it wasn’t nailed to the floor, it went in the lorry and my cries of ‘not there’ or ‘not that’ fell on deaf ears.  There was nothing for it but to press reset and get to grips with the fact that one day I would find everything!

David’s cup had not been re-filled overnight but, as time wore on, there was a proverbial hole in it!  In years to come, I’m sure the mention of Manny’s wardrobe will still bring him out in a cold sweat.  Things had been going to plan – for them – until the wardrobe and then …  Downstairs, meanwhile, Jim had arrived to back-up the desktop computer and delete logins before its removal the next day.  So far so good.  Then it was that David delivered the news that there was no way that wardrobe was coming out of that room.  Well, there was no way that it wasn’t!  To be fair, they did seem to try every which way possible but they were prepared to throw in the towel.  Jim, however, more intrigued by the noises emanating from above than the technology in the study, ventured upstairs to offer the benefit of his opinion and to him I shall be eternally grateful.  Using his logical brain, he took charge refusing to be defeated and an hour and a half later said wardrobe was successfully removed albeit in somewhat less than pristine condition.  As for David’s thoughts on Jim’s involvement?  Probably better not to surmise.  Jim, meanwhile, delighted in the whole predicament and seemed positively animated.  Becca and I?  Grateful for the obvious humour to be gleaned from the interaction of three oh so different characters.  Poor David had not counted on a Jim but it proved an unforgettable interlude in an otherwise stressful day.

Automatic pilot.  That’s how it felt and the rest of the day was a blur as bit by bit, twenty-six years disappeared and all that remained were floorboards and dirty walls marked by the imprint of furniture or paintings … photographs and memories.  No time for sentiment, though, amid the frantic, exhausting activity.  A natural defence mechanism preventing the time to dwell.  Suddenly the truck was full and the door closed.  Treasured belongings embarked on the road to their new home and I followed them when I was able.

Divorce, moving house – cited as two of the most stressful things in life.  Been there.  Done that.  Most stressful?  No, I think there are worse.  Certainly, both are anything but enjoyable but they mark endings which are also new beginnings.  Exhausting, definitely, it will take time to recover but, for now, buried beneath a mountain of boxes I am grateful that it is over!  Any lessons learned?  Just the importance of real friends – and humour.  I know my life would be impossible without either.

Now, if I could just empty these umpteen boxes of books, I might find the TV and be able to watch my favourite event of the year … Wimbledon!

‘Dreamin’ on the last mile home, dreamin’ on the last mile home
Things are always better when we’re all together
I’m dreamin’ on the last mile home.’
Last Mile Home, Kings of Leon.  One of my favourite songs ever, it just came into my head.

This is Trish, signing off.