What are you supposed to do with the photographs?

Being back in the house is a double edged sword really.  I love my home, but that’s exactly what makes it so painful.  The aim is to get it on the market by the end of the month, and in order to do that there is a certain amount of work that needs to be done – cracks to be filled, architrave to put up, walls to be painted, garden to be tidied up after the winter period and made to look appealing and presentable.  And that’s just it; I’m spending time in my home preparing it for someone else.  

I cut back my hydrangea the other week and generally pruned and weeded and as usual found it immensely satisfying and rewarding, right up until the point where I realised that I wouldn’t actually be there to see my garden come into flower, I wouldn’t be there to sit and take in the smells and look at my view from the comfort of a squishy lounger and a glass of Pinot.  That was when I realised that I had to get out as soon as I can.  Then to add even more urgency to this decision TEH’s living arrangements came to an abrupt end and consequently has been living out of a suitcase with various friends, who may cease to be friends if this goes on much longer …

I’ve been looking at flats, but it needs to be something I can be comfortable in for a good 8 months ie. up until the Inca Trail and whatever lies beyond; there’s no way of knowing how long it’s going to take to sell the house after all. It also needs to be something that TEH and I can afford between us, on top of what we already pay on the mortgage etc and without both of us turning into hermits …  Not an easy task as I discovered.  There really are some grim places out there.  My pre-requisites are proving somewhat elusive:

• Ground floor or maximum 1st floor (Unpacking shopping …)


• Studio or 1 bed (if a studio I want one big enough to have a separate bed rather than a sofa bed)


• Gas Central heating (heating!!!)


• Washer, fridge, freezer, oven & hob


• Somewhere to park the bloomin’ car

But which ever way I look at it, the process of moving out (properly this time) whether it be in 2 weeks or 2 months, is going to be a painful one.  I’ve made a start on packing up my stuff, but of course, in order to identify my stuff it means sorting through our stuff and I keep coming across memories all wrapped up in inanimate objects.  For example I have just packed up a box of children’s books.  The emotions packed away in that box are just phenomenal and an experience I don’t want to revisit for a wee while.

Strangely CD’s have been the easiest job – not sure why that is.  Maybe because modern technology has taken the angst out of decisions about whose is whose etc – just copy the damn things.  There are 5 piles:

• Mine


• TEH’s


• Mine that I think TEH would like a copy of


• TEH’s that I would like a copy of


• Pile that we can’t remember who’s they are – they were just ours.  Solution for this one – copy them all and then have a lucky dip for originals.

But I think the worst job, and the one which I keep skirting round, is what are you supposed to do with the photographs?  I think I’ll leave it there …