Silent Sunday

Silent Sunday

Moving House Is Kinda Like Having A Break Up

When you move into a new house you fall in love with it and you over look things that might annoy you, glossing over them like a young lover would do with their new suitor. No dishwasher, no problem. Carpet in the kitchen, eh no biggie. You accentuate the positives like the huge living room and the lovely back garden with no overlooking neighbours.

But after you have settled into the relationship, the cracks in the foundation of the relationship may start to show, as the dodgy windows let your heating straight out into the fenlands and the boiler plays up every night. Then in your head you start toying with the idea of finding a new relationship, scouring estate agents websites, mentally cheating on your beloved home.

Then when the end is nigh, you just stop caring. Bloody boiler. Stupid muddy driveway. Ugly carpets! And you just can't wait until the whole thing is over and done.

Then after a few months, you can start to remember the good times with your house. The memories made with each other. Remembering that you once did love the house, but you never want to go back. Ever.

Silent Sunday

Moving House! At Christmas! Again!

When we moved to the UK four years ago, we got all our household contents that had been shipped from the states delivered to our home on December 22nd. We spent Christmas surrounded by boxes stacked to the ceiling containing the contents of our old life back in Missouri. We are about to repeat this again, only this time 20 minutes down the road, not across an ocean. I'm not exactly looking forward to the prospect. My kids are really excited though.

The new house is in a neighborhood and there is a large park across the street for them to play at when the weather gets a little less....icky (let's be honest the uk weather is awful). They are gonna be able to ride their bikes and make friends with kids who live a couple doors away instead of having to jump in a car just to go have a couple hours of play.

We have decided to keep them in the same school they are currently attending. It is more of a drive for me in the morning, but keeping some aspects of their life stable right now I think is important. Plus I adore their school. I'm sure it will be worth the commute.

Now, back to sorting out the detritus in this home before the packing crew arrives next week. Here's hoping to a smooth move.

Ha! My Crap Luck Returns!!

The moment I decide to start blogging again, disaster struck my poor lovely MacBook.  Well, actually, it happened before I decided to come back, but I thought we had the issue sorted out.  You see my lovely cute adorable bastard of a kitten knocked an entire glass of juice into the keyboard of the MacBook about 2 weeks ago.  I did what I have done after the two previous spills(beer and coke),battery out, computer pulled apart, mopping up the mess, cleaning with a damp sponge and then letting the computer dry for a week, and the MacBook came back to life.  Then on the 4th day of it being alive, although track pad no longer working, the entire keyboard decided to DIE.  Then my OS decided to error.  I managed to fix the OS, but not the keyboard. 

So  here I am typing on my husbands teeny tiny little Gateway Netbook with the dodgy charger.  It's less than ideal, but I am going to have to deal until I can take my MacBook to the Apple store over in Cambridge to see if they will be super duper nice to me and fix my baby without charging an arm, leg and first born child.  Actually they can have the child.  I'm joking*.

*Mostly joking.  Seriously, holy cow, nobody warned me how much 8 year old girls talk.  I swear, she just talks and talks and talks and talks and talks so more.  And then just when you think she has stopped talking, she starts singing.  Also, what in the blue hell with the random off the wall questions?  No, I don't know the answer.  We can google it later.  Maybe.