Packers moved through the house at a rate of knots, wielding rolls of tape and Sharpie markers. The three women were efficient, friendly and calm, asked me for no hot drinks, and completed in one eight-hour day (including a lunch break) what it took three cranky men four days and multiple cups of tea to accomplish when we left the UK. Admittedly a proportion of our belongings has remained boxed up and stored since then, but we've also acquired three years’ MORE stuff. How to explain the difference? Gender, nationality, personality? (I couldn't possibly comment.) As the women left, with smiles and good wishes for our new house, they said ‘the boys’ would arrive on Monday to finish off the last bits (the kettle, the toaster oven, the furniture) and do the actually moving. Maybe that will give us an extra, critical data point.
Our house décor is now Modern Box. Eldest child and I quite like the look, as do the cats, who leap from one tower to the next. It reminds me of the first few weeks of living in Toronto, while our possessions were still on the high seas heading west. We wonder: do we really need all this
chazzerai? Now, as then, we seem to be coping fine without it, although it must be said we have been subsisting on a raw-food diet other than when kind friends invite us round for a proper meal.
Thank you, kind friends in Toronto. And not just for the dinners.
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