Frizzled…off and on again

Here I am again, several months later and finally getting round to doing a bit of writing.  My Facebook page has been giving me subtle little hints about my blog, things like ‘It’s been 70 days since you last posted’ and ‘It’s been 103 days since you last posted’ and so on.  Helpful yes, in the way that I then think ‘Yikes, it’s been that long?’ and vow on the spot to create another post.  Unhelpful yes, in the way that I then think ‘Yikes, I’ve totally lost the plot!  I have no idea what to write about, I’ll never be able to write another post ever again!’  Melodramatic?  Absolutely.

So.  Here I am again.  House move well and truly recovered from – all settled in and sorted.  Great – until youngest son moved house and in with me for a short while, then back out to new flat.  Eldest son and I helped him move his stuff to ours – from his third floor flat – yes, that’s THIRD floor with no lift.  Then we helped him move into his new third floor flat – yes, THIRD floor with no lift.  It was heaps and heaps of fun, what’s not to like?  I very much enjoy carrying boxes and awkwardly shaped items down and up curved, stone staircases repeatedly and who doesn’t love wheezing and sweating profusely, bent practically double with the gruelling exertion of that final third set of steps?  Who doesn’t enjoy the sensation of every ounce of energy draining through the soles of the feet with the crippling realisation we’re nowhere near finished?

I have to say though, all these moves I’ve done over the years has blessed me with the fabulous skill of being able to pack my small car super efficiently with household items and with barely a square centimetre of empty space.  As I drive along – car rattling unnervingly -I can feel the palpable envy of other drivers who stare incredulously at my ‘house in a car’ wondering how what they’re witnessing is even possible.  Dream on, fellow drivers and I’ll tell you my secret….move house 20-odd times and you too, shall reach car pack nirvana.

I love my son dearly and of course, think nothing of helping him move house, it’s my pleasure to help.  However, to say I’m glad that’s over and done with is no understatement.  Yay.  Well almost.  There are a few stubborn items that are still hanging about gleefully anticipating being hauled into the back of my small car and dragged unceremoniously up to the dizzy heights of ‘new flat’.  They’re not sat there mocking me every time I walk into the now ‘spare’ room – of course they’re not, that would be weird.  I’m pretty sure they’re not.

Anyway….all done (nearly), son settled in nicely at new place.  ….and relax.

So, my little blog is back and I am prattling on as usual about whatever pops into my head.  Hurrah.

Now I just need to make sure that Facebook nagging voice ‘It’s been … days since…’ keeps itself to itself and out of my way.  Prepare, reader, to be dazzled with more musings about stuff.

Till the next time and here’s hoping you don’t have to heave any ridiculously heavy items up any stairs any time soon.