Well, pretty close. We did it in a fortnight so as things have turned out, if our buyers had been upfront with their own move, they could have been in by now.
All utility companies advised.
Redirection of mail sorted.
Furniture in storage.
We really have gone full circle as our last night here will be spent as our first, sleeping on the floor.
Our friend has promised to have champagne on ice and the kettle on the day we move out ready for our arrival at whatever hour.
We have been advised by our solicitor not to pass any keys to anyone until she confirms that funds have been received.
We are including the Estate Agent, who we believe would want to finally be seen as The Good Guy to our buyers and let them move in before we’ve gone 2 miles down the road.
Ain’t gonna happen.
There are several things I’ll miss when we move though.
No more lorries thundering by at 4am.
No more resounding thumps of traffic hitting that damn pothole that has grown another foot and is resembling a small pond, the contents of which are splashed up across our frontage by said lorries as they whoosh by in excess of the 40mph limit.
No more planes doing their fancy full throttle fire blazing practice displays over our house at 8am in the pre-holiday season,
or their return to base sometimes between 11pm and midnight.
No more boy racers with their jet propelled boom boxes whizzing by our front windows trying to reach warp speed.
I certainly won’t miss neighbouring homes with their twinkling lights, multi wind chimes, and the heavy thrum of the Triple S Posemobile kit car which comes out on Sunny Summer Sundays.
For all that though, I shall miss this house.
It has character and history, but for the two of us it is just too big and the garden too much.
I shall miss the cosiness on cold winter evenings in front of the log burner when we’ve drawn the curtains at the end of the day.
I’ll miss the birds that visit our garden, and the pleasure they have given me these past few years as I watched their comings and goings as they raised their new families. I shall miss their joyous melodious song, but probably not the hob nailed boots of the pigeons as they strut their stuff across our flat roof.
I shall miss our apple tree and the glory of it in full blossom. The branches reach up to the sky and out into the garden, snagging sometimes on the wash line despite us pruning it back every year. I’ll even forgive them for getting in my way when I cut the grass, and the occasional chunk they took out of my head when I forgot to duck. The apples have always been plentiful and this year will be no exception. It is positively groaning already.
I shall miss our lilac tree too. It only started to flower 2 years ago, and now we shall be saying goodbye.
I shall miss the clear black velvet starlit skies, the giant silver spotlight of the moon lighting up our garden centre stage, and I mustn’t forget the glorious sunrises and sunsets.
I shall miss the peace and quiet when all is still, no traffic, no aircraft, just birdsong and the hum of the bees during the day, or the hooting of owls in the distance at night.
I’ll also miss the frogs and toads that pass through our garden in search of ponds that are no longer there. I won’t however shed a tear for the uneven back lawn and the effort it takes to maintain!
I am just sorry that our lawn mower finally died and we are unable to cut the grass before we move. It’s longer than we’ve ever known it, but hey, I’m not buying a new mower for a lawn I will no longer have.
We shall miss our doggy friends and the woods. We have said goodbye to those we met these last few days, but know we won’t see them all, so I put a notice on the board (including the forestry commission guys) which at the moment is still up.
Finding somewhere new and safe for the dog may be problematic to start with, but once we find our feet, no doubt we will be able to take her out and keep to our 3 walks a day routine.
The new people are aware of the planes and the traffic (you can’t exactly hide them) , and as with most villages, they will be a novelty until the residents have satisfied their curiosity and discovered what they can or can’t benefit from these strangers. There is already a mountain of post for them.
As is our norm, we will leave a welcoming bottle of wine and list of useful contact numbers for the tradesmen who have provided us with good service and reliability.
I found a few snippets on the internet and put them together in a card:
A house is bricks and wooden beams
A home is made of love and dreams
When the boxes are gone
And you’ve cleaned up the mess
You’ll make a home of the house
That was just an address
They will then add their own mark to the property, and I hope be happy here.
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