At the moment, things are utterly MANIC with trying to get packed. I imagine most people have moved house at least once (this is #4 for me) and somehow I completely managed to block out the stress and hassle of the last three moves, and am being continually surprised by just how much there is, both to do and to pack. It’s incredible.
The thing which has been reinforced to me over this time is what absolutely fantastic, awesome friends we have. As well as our family, who have done unimaginably amazing things for us, we’ve had several weekends in a row with friends who’ve willingly (and cheerfully) given their time and energy to help us.
They’ve carried boxes up millions of stairs.
They’ve transported boxes (and boxes andboxesan’boxes) of our stuff in their cars.
They’ve carried more boxes up more stairs.
They’ve cleaned our (not too badly) grubby flat.
They’ve brought food.
They’ve cheered us up, cheered us on and been amazingly supportive and encouraging.
They’ve got down on hands and knees and scraped paint.
They’ve stayed up late to natter and hang out after the jobs for the day are finished.
They’ve told me about how to manage the evil, money-grabbing crooks that are the power companies.
They’ve told me we’ve inspired them for how to handle their moves/cleaning projects.
And, most incredibly, they’re all still clamouring to come and help us move and celebrate our new home with us.
Even friends who are far away and haven’t physically helped, have sent messages of encouragement.
I tellya, if one of the ways to judge a person is by the quality and calibre of their friends, I can only infer that Husby and I are made of solid gold unicorn poo.
My dear friends, you are all amazing. Have 1,000,000 Awesome Points each. Love you xXx