Well, we’re here. All we have set up at the moment is my Netbook and the wireless router – I haven’t *looked* at LJ, Facebook, Twitter, etc, just done the odd Twitter post from the phone to let folk know we’re alive.
The move was hideous, but eternal and inexpressible gratitude go to geoffcampbell, who drove the lorry, organised the team of packers and loaders as though he were playing Tetris, and generally made the whole thing work; Pat and Dave, WANOLJ, who came round to the old house at 6 a.m. on moving day and worked like *heroes* for five hours; agc who drove to Hull from Wiltshire to help with the unloading, and etriganuk who trained over from Manchester to do the same. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH.
We couldn’t get everything on the van, so perlmonger had to do a one way van rental at an extortionate price, and spent four hours packing and loading the last stuff in the pouring rain, not getting away from Bristol until nearly 5 p.m. He came down with a nasty chill on Tuesday , unsurprisingly, but he got here.
Nothing broken in the move so far, although my ceramic duck mobile’s wire broke when I tried to hang it up, so that’s a casualty. We cannot find the clothes pegs, or Pete’s mobile phone charger, so if anyone needs him, use the house phone or my mobile (contact details just posted in a friends locked post).
I drove the cats up, which could not be described as an enjoyable experience, even for me – Iggy and Mustrum cried the whole way, and Iggy disgraced himself in his basket. EnRon, of course, just curled up together in their carrier and slept the whole way – they really are utterly bombproof, those two. When we arrived they went off exploring, but soon came home through the kitchen window, which we kept open until Pete managed to fit the cat flap on Tuesday. Except for Iggy, who disappeared on Sunday evening – we were distraught. I’ll write more about this later in the cats’ blog, but suffice it to say that when I was making a cup of tea at 6 this morning, he strolled into the kitchen from the living room – so he’d found his way back through this grid of Victorian terraced streets, and discovered the cat flap. I’m more relieved and happy than I can say.
So, anyway, we’re alive. I’ll write more about the house later, but I know some people have been waiting to hear. Thanks to all those who’ve phoned and mailed – no time to respond now, but I’ll get there.
On with the unpacking – we nearly have a living room now, the kitchen is almost finished (going to paint it RED) , and Hull is good. Except that bloody Gavin still hasn’t paid the sodding rent.