It’s Wednesday morning and the movers come Friday at 2pm. I have made all the change of address notifications (thank heavens for online self-serve), washed all the windows, cleaned all the cupboards, and am doing a mountain of laundry over the next two days. Still to do: wrap and pack dishes, pots, glasses, etc. ; pack the last little suitcase; take recycling to the centre; and clean the fridge and stove.
When you only own 1-year’s worth of quasi-minimalist ‘stuff’, packing does NOT take long. So that has been relatively easy. Much like 13 months ago, I am existing on a strange diet of whatever is perishable in the fridge/cupboard. Yes, I could just pack everything in grocery bags for the 3-minute drive to the new place, but the less ‘bits & pieces’ I have to schlep, the better. And I do rather take pride in getting things down to the bare minimums (for example, right now I am having spicy lentil soup for breakfast). Don’t get me wrong – as you can see from the photo I still have a lot of food to transport: that’s all the pantry food (note the remaining Ichiban ramen – 6 packets of the original 18 left, thank you LL); the freezer is (or will be by noon tomorrow) empty; and the fridge is pretty diminished.
I mentioned that I am doing loads of laundry. Again, there is a specific reason for that; it’s not that the new place doesn’t have a washer/dryer, it does. In fact it has a lovely Bosch set, in its own laundry/mud room which will be so much nicer than the world’s loudest washing machine in the kitchen, up against the living room wall (our first few weeks here, Scout would jump up and run to the front door every time a load of laundry hit the spin cycle, because it sounds like there’s someone banging to get into the house). The reason I’ve saved up a ton of sheets, towels and mats that must be laundered soon is because of Scout.
My hip is still not up to walking the dog, so the lovely dog walker comes every morning and takes Scout for an hour. And one hour later they return here, Rebecca looking sheepish, and Scout looking absolutely delighted and covered in mud and/or sand. So, every morning I either have to rinse down her legs and belly and dry them off, or, if sand is involved, we both get in the shower and I spend 10-15 minutes soaping, scrubbing, rinsing, and drying an unhappy doodle. And then cleaning the shower.
There is sand on the little rugs, sand on the dog sheets (old bedsheets I bought for a pound at Lidl), sand on the sofa, sand in my carpets, and this week, because I didn’t pull the bedroom door shut as tightly as I should have, there is sand on and in my bed. I want rid of all this sand before hitting the new place, so laundry it is, and I have decided not to have Rebecca for the last two days, because I want to finish the cleaning today and simply cannot face tackling anything more after that. Poor Scout.