Posts Tagged ‘Moving’

So: after almost twenty months, more Estate Agents than I ever hope to encounter again in the rest of my life, an architect, a team of builders and a deep immersion in the auction houses of London, I am moving into my new house this weekend.

The children have already seen it and given it their unconditional approval, which is heartening, as I chose it largely with them in mind – as you would, of course. When I saw it, I wasn’t completely convinced – in fact, I was quite anti: but the endorsements of Sister, Parents, Old Friend at Work and Best Friend all brought me round and now I am enamoured with it. This is probably due, in no small part, to the fact that it no longer has mahogany floorboards, a black quartz kitchen floor and blue and white tiles in the bathrooms (one of the reasons I have spent so long not living in a house that I have owned for six months is that I decided to bite the bullet, do ALL the work – and spend ALL the money, rather than do it in drips and drabs, which would be disruptive – and I think everyone’s had enough disruption to be getting on with…), and is now exactly as I would want it.

It’s also the first time that I’ve lived in a house of this style: very modern and open-plan, rather than old and self-contained rooms. Again, I am now delighted with this way of living, and it’s also quite therapeutic to be living a new life in a new kind of space, rather than in a version of the houses that I shared with Ex Wife.

So: good times ahead. The children are excited, and I’m excited. If I can put up with the navy blue front door until the Spring, when I shall re-paint it (and there’s more than enough woodwork to be painting in the meantime), then all shall be rosy in the garden. Assuming some cunt hasn’t planted bamboo in there…

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The first time that Wife became pregnant, we invited our parents, Sister and Brother in Law around to the house for “drinks” (I daresay some of them had guessed why they had been invited). Apparently, Brother in Law had not guessed.

Wife (in an atypically oblique way) made her announcement by asking our guests: “What have Kate Moss, Angelina Jolie and I got in common?” to a genuinely uncomprehending crowd, so adding “I’m pregnant.” Amidst the whoops and the tears of joy, was Brother-in-Law’s surprised question “Is Kate Moss pregnant?”

Anyway: his wife, my sister is now pregnant for the second time, which is fantastic – so there will be a companion to my three year-old nephew born in February/March. This has necessitated a move of quarters: they have now moved two whole floors up in their Manhattan apartment block, to get themselves four bedrooms, all of which was done by their apartment staff, without the hideousness of removal men. They are now echoing around in this big space, waiting for their beautiful new arrival.

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Monday, 30th April 2007

I dread to think what Al Gore would say.

Is there, even, a method of recycling Bubblewrap? Can one simply cart it down to the recycling centre (our nearest one is in Richmond, in between the Sewage Works and a new development of ritzy, faux-Georgian “executive homes”, the location of which focus on the upper class feel of Richmond riverside, rather than the proximity of pre-treated shit streams…)? I have never noticed anyone offloading plastic – maybe this reveals my ecological ignorance: I know how long plastic takes to break down, but surely it can be recycled into something – more, sodding Bubblewrap, perhaps…

Anyway: I have wrapped the equivalent of the contents of the Sainsbury Wing at the National Gallery today and I hope never to see another painting again – although I have yet to do the Drawing Room, and we move in two days. Shitly bumwhack.

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Tuesday, 1st May 2007

You know how when people have resigned from a job, they suddenly start pointing out how shit everything is about the place they’ve been perfectly happy in for the last 8 years? Clearly, that helps them believe that they are leaving a bad job, for a good job.

I suspect that something similar is afoot on the domestic front: the process of unearthing every teacup, every sketchbook, every half finished  bottle of oil and wrapping and boxing it is a pretty good way of making you sick to death of the whole environment you have been so happy in for (in our case) eight years.

Wife is punching the air at the thought of not being here after Wednesday. I am slightly more sanguine: fazed somewhat by the thought of the equivalent amount of unpacking at the other end of our journey (some five minutes down the round…)

Anyway: goodbye from our present domicile – it will be a while before I am Broadbanded up at the next place, so there will be quite a hiatus until full digital Crikeyvision is restored.

And for those of you thinking moving home: don’t.

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Friday, 11th May 2007

Oh, there shall be stories – oh yes. There SHALL be stories. 

The move has gone very well, the house and garden are amazing, but there is no Internet connection for another two weeks: I am hoping to publish this on the back of a fleeting Internet connection in the back of a cab…

So: no pictures, no fancy entry: just a desire to break the hiatus – we’re off to New York before we get access, so there shall be no more stories for a month or so. But can you imagine how you shall hold your aching sides when you visit this glittering blog in a month’s time? It doesn’t bear thinking about.

So, this post is an act of faith: I’m hoping that the cab stops for long enough for it to be published (which shouldn’t be a problem in Friday night London traffic) and that there is someone who is enough of a philanthropist to figure that if they’re already paying for the connection, why shouldn’t everyone benefit. That may be trickier. Only time – and the journey through Clapham – will tell. One thing is for sure, Dulwich may have a noted public school, but it is shit for shared wireless internet access…

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