Moving Out, Moving On

How many times in your life have you moved house?

A: Never
B: Once or twice
C: A few times
D: Several times
E: More times than I can count

Ethel McMillan, 1958And what is your present attitude to moving?

A: My bags are packed!
B: My feet are a little itchy…
C: I will if I have to.
D: Oh, please, no!
E: I’m not leaving this house til they pack me in a box and carry me out feet first.

Packing for a trip (302326919)

Stress and Support Systems

This blog post is brought to you by the letter ‘S’!

As I mentioned last week, we are soon moving house. A week today, in fact. Seven days. In six days, the movers will be coming to pack everything up. Everything, that is, except the books, which we plan on packing ourselves.

So far I have managed to pack up the mystery collection (it has its own book case) which filled three wine boxes: Agatha Christie, Assorted Mystery, and Assorted Mystery: Paperback. Although to be honest with you, I think there’s some Christie in every box. An excellent vintage.

reading murder

They’re all packed and taped and labelled and this is all very satisfying to behold, until the sinking realization that there will be no more mystery-reading until we unpack at the new house.

No Miss Silver, no Poirot, no Miss Marple, no Tommy and Tuppence, no Cadfael, no Inspector Wexford. No Mma Ramotswe.
I am desolate.

You see, reading mysteries is one of my favourite ways of dealing with stress. (The wine boxes were empty when I got them.) I can comfortably read one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and (if circumstances are really dire) one in the evening as well, though headaches may threaten.

Nose in a book

In a mystery, as in life, there are things that go wrong, unfair actions and suspicions, confusion and uncertainty. Perhaps this is why I so much enjoy the old-fashioned detectives who give a full explanation in the last chapter: there are answers.
There will be answers.

But not today.

Has anyone else noticed that moving house is like a magnet in a field of iron filings, a lead weight on a rubber sheet covered in sand (or, again, iron filings)? It attracts other stressors.

iron filings tracing the magnetic field of a bar magnet

I went and had a look at the Holmes & Rahe stress scale, and I figured my score was around 271. “Risk of illness is moderate.”
What was I thinking, packing the mysteries a week out?

Of course, as the logically-minded (or anarchically-minded) among you will point out, if I get desperate I can always open one of the boxes. But this violates the cardinal law of successful moving:
That Which Has Been Packed Shall Not Be Unpacked.

Or at least not until you arrive at the other house. Then it’s a toss-up whether you go first for the bedding, the kettle, or the books. Or the cat.

shira and zora unpacking

But I have still a secret weapon up my sleeve – or rather, in a tea tin. Just for a change, it’s not tea, delectably de-stressing as that excellent beverage is. It’s knitting.

When I am stressed, I knit. Last year, I knit my father a cardigan (it was quite a stressful year). Usually I go for smaller projects – hats, baby items (for charity – stressed enough without one of my own, thank you) and most recently, socks.

big foot

It took an embarrassingly long time for me to figure out how to turn a heel, but I am now working on my second pair of real, wearable socks (in recycled merino/possum blend – soft and fuzzy).

Although socks are less escapist, knitting has the advantage over novels in one respect: time. There is nothing more frustrating than just getting into a story when your ten minutes for tea expires and it’s back to work (all right, there is, but let’s not go there, I’m stressed enough already).

alarm clocks kill dreams

Mind you, I managed to read the unabridged Nicholas Nickleby entirely in breaks at work, so it’s not entirely unworkable. But mysteries should not be chopped into little pieces in such a way.

I would be delighted to hear your tips for handling stress (moving-related or otherwise); and do feel free to administer your own Holmes-Rahe test and leave your results in the comments.
(Highest score gets bragging rights and an ulcer; lowest score gets a smug sense of superiority and an unimpaired duodenum.)

And tell me: what would you unpack first?

Moving House

Moving house New Zealand style

Or to be more accurate, moving household – the respective houses are staying put. Inasmuch as anything stays put when we keep having earthquakes over 6.0 on the Richter scale.

Yes, the Caped Gooseberry and I are moving house(hold), in just a couple of weeks. It had been a possibility for a while, but it wasn’t settled until a week ago. So now we have two weeks to get everything sorted and ready to go.

Sorted van!

I’ve got leave from the DDJ for the day before we move (I’m not completely insane), but other than that I’m working full time until the day itself (like I said, not completely).

It’s not as though I’ve never done it before, I moved house frequently through most of my life. We once moved three times in three days, and I was fourteen before I spent twelve consecutive months in the same house.

But things have changed since then. I grew up, I got married, and I got furniture. Time was I had a bag of clothes, a box of toys and my school stuff. That time is gone.

Let's Do 52 :: 24/52 :: Pastel

On the other hand, I am (for the first time) going to have movers pack for me. I have no idea how you move house without doing your own packing – just as I have no idea how you do a thorough spring-clean without moving out (doesn’t all the stuff get in the way?).

So, what are your tips for keeping sane while moving house(hold)? And what’s a low-stress way to sort out your stuff and prune the dead wood away?

All comments welcome!