I should be packing. I did pack four boxes this afternoon, but I really should be packing. You see, we sold our house, and we need to move. Not that we’ve found a replacement house yet. Because that house – that house – broke our hearts.
It was beautiful, and we could see ourselves living there. And I even found a spot for the books. And a spot where I can sit and read.
But, alas, that house is, apparently, not for us.
But I guess it is a little understandable. We had this great plan. Sell our house, go rent another house for a while and then pack up and go to the wild blue yonder. Not sure which wild blue yonder, as this week, we want to live in Germany. Last week it was Cape Town, the week before that it was Japan. We have wandering hearts.
But so, for the last couple of weeks, we have slowly started packing our belongings into boxes. And looking at houses. We looked at rentals, and then we thought that maybe, just maybe, we should buy a house. And we got our hearts broken, because we fell in love with a house, but put in an offer just a little too late.
So we’re back to looking at rentals, because we are running out of time. And back to wanting to live all over the world.
Packing up your things is an interesting journey. I enjoyed packing up our CD collection, because we have some great gems that we often forget about.
And the graphic novels and comic books…
And the many…
Have packed 13 boxes of books so far, and I haven’t even made a dent.
And, of course, I keep buying more.
In just under 80 days, we are on our way to the UK, so we need to find a house and move quite quickly. No pressure
Ouch. Packing and moving is my very worst thing on earth. Strongs!
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