The stress of moving house can be emotionally traumatic for most people. The hassle of informing friends of a new address, dealing with solicitors, possible new utility providers and a whole host of other unforeseen calamities that can arise puts pressure on the most resilient human being. Luckily, I have no responsibility for these matters and am assigned the manual task of moving the furniture and stuff from A to B.
Before I go on, I know there are some super rich on here who pay others to do this service. Maybe you get a decorator in to paint your house as well. Well, good for you, I’m in the camp that says honest labour never killed anybody. The fulfilment of completing these onerous undertakings makes for a satisfaction Jagger could never achieve. Consider this, watching tennis is not very good but playing the game is enjoyable. Maybe not the best example for you, how about, looking at flowers is good but not as good as making your own flowers. (Can flowers be made? I don’t know anything about flowers. A flower is a flower is a flower)
The family has moved house a few times and with gusto, with gusto, I have approached the toil with joyous abandonment. Manoeuvring wardrobes through unforgiving doorways can be dangerous but it adds to the thrill; always count your fingers afterwards. Awkward sized items like three piece suites offer never ending pleasure with their haphazard random nature; I always load and unload them twice at each end of the journey. With great industry I march back and forth from the van with heavily laden boxes. Only with my collection of glassware am I hesitant and that rides in one of the passenger seats in the van.
This brings us to the van. Always better hiring one and driving it yourself, I think. On the road you can have one big tanned arm leaning out the side window, aping Clint Eastwood in Every Which Way But Loose. Assembling the different shaped equipment in the back of the van is an art form. Just as Dostoevsky illogically wrote that 2+2=5, I have found that round objects fit into square holes.
Every flitting is different and I’ve done many friends, neighbours and families flittings over the years. As long as there’s plenty of soft drinks and a radio playing some decent rock music they are no trouble at all. On one occasion I was walking past this house and it was plain to see that the inhabitants were in the process of moving. There were clues everywhere and it seemed elementary dear Wilson. Like the gentleman I am I helped these strangers lug a few boxes.
Boadicea's Chariot 
Rather you than me TR. I will knock down walls, mix cement, lay bricks, fix plumbing and do electrical work, but count me out of the really heavy, awkward stuff. Backs are very easily put out.
I remember moving house 300 yards down the road some 30-odd years ago. We even employed a removal firm then, when I was in my youth(ish!). The thought of carrying the furniture along the pavement did not appeal.
Also, have you ever tried moving one of the latest Bosch washing machines? Their weight defies belief!
Hello Johnny,
I almost found the solution to the vexed issue of the washing machine conundrum. As Tommy Cooper might say-
“Skateboard, washing machine. Washing machine, skateboard.”
The plan was to tilt the washing machine slightly then roll a skate board underneath. Manoeuvre the washing machine onto the wheels. (Note: there were three of us doing this, not just me). Hey Tesco, we’ve got a mobile appliance. We rolled the machine out the kitchen, down the hall to the front door. Oh no, stairs. And now we were faced with the Dalek conundrum. Nobody’s worked that one out yet so it’s back to brute force.
Definitely rather you than me – try moving 3000 km and it’s no joke to attempt to ‘do it yourself’! I’d far sooner ‘help the economy’ by employing people do the packing, the loading, the moving and the unloading 😉
Me too and I did exactly that on the last two moves.
Dash the economy. You’ve got to go into this moving malarkey with a spirit of adventure, Boa. I admit handling boxes and crates is not that exciting; however, the possibility of damaging the computer or Xbox makes for a rewarding adrenaline filled experience. (As long as they don’t get damaged, of course)
On International moves one has no insurance if you have packed it yourself!
I know the difference between shipping packing and ordinary moving, after all trucks only go along roads not up and down as in the sea in a container. It has become a favourite gag of companies quoting for international moves to quote on the basis of domestic packing. Pickfords tried it on me! Big mistake, I threatened to sue them and all of a sudden they produced the requisite material for a proper pack, heavily supervised by me.
47 moves and five of them transatlantic and not one piece of good china or glass broken!
Spousal unit does not ‘do’ moves, he lurks in his office gibbering clutching his laptop!
I love moving, I get bored with houses.
Perhaps houses ought to just come with husbands installed and one could just sell them both together and move on without further aggravation, just scoop up the dogs and off you go to the next adventure.
I once sold the house and moved while no 2 husband was abroad in the Far East, I and the new house were in Atlanta. I always insisted in having power of attorney to do stuff on our behalf. On reflection it was a big mistake giving him the new address by telex!
I have promised spousal unit (current incumbent) not to move again, it upsets him so. On the unlikely event of me surviving him I would be back to Wales in a flash!
Try moving dogs too, if you think moving furniture is expensive you haven’t been born!
Considering the price of moving dogs I never understood why they don’t have their own seats on the plane and put all those freeloading screaming brats in the cages in the hold!
What fun!
Thank you for your no-holds barred comment, Christina. I can’t ever see me making a transatlantic move. The furthest I’ve done a flitting was when my sister moved to Paisley.
I‘m also delighted not to receive a “There goes the neighbourhood” remark.
There goes the neighbourhood, in my opinion.
Declaration of war on its way, pal.
Moving blog sites, however, is a lot easier.
I’ve never ever moved without resorting to ahem, P*ckf*rds, and I’m ashamed to say that they do all the packing too.
I’m obviously a wimp, JW but I cannot help it! It’s much easier than skateboards and strained backs.
I have been known to do the odd bit of interior decor, if that helps ! Inept flower arranging and tasteful fruit thingies; nothing too strenuous you understand.
Good Evening Admiral Mackie
I look forward to resuming hostilities, not that they ever stopped, mind you. I see Araminta is already on my side. Your neighbourhood is turning against you. There will be deep fried mars bars all round if I win.
How ya doin, Pseu? Long time no…chatty chatty.
Flower arranging, Ara? Is that putting them in different places or sumthin’? I need to get my head round this. Next up for me is to join a flower web site.
I wouldn’t worry about flowers, JW, there seems to be a war on, and I’m happy to throw the odd lemon at the enemy. I’ll even sacrifice a melon if necessary! Whatever it takes, just yell and I’m ready and willing.
Of course, I may have an urgent appointment to have my nails sharpened (manicured?). 🙂
Ara? ‘Et tu, Brute?’
To which ‘enemy’ could you possibly be referring? If you are choosing to lob citric-type fruit, please make it a lime! Only possible option for a G&T, in my opinion.
A lime is is Mr Mackie.
I admire an “enemy” with taste.:)
“it is”, bother!
See, Ara, you choose to go over to the dark side and already you’re starting to lose your grasp of how to write in English.
It’s a worry!
Lack of intellectual rigour, John. I’m not sure this can be all blamed on JW, but there again…. 😉
Christina; ‘Perhaps houses ought to just come with husbands installed and one could just sell them both together and move on without further aggravation, just scoop up the dogs and off you go to the next adventure.’
That is an absolute belter…