The first time I moved house…

I took to moving like a duck2 a merry-go-round.

With my current room stacked high with boxes, my thoughts have returned to the first time I moved house.

As a family, we had never moved house and my parents to this day still live in the same place where we all grew up. The thought of moving four children, one dog, two cats and various guinea pigs and rabbits no doubt was a slight deciding factor in this. The idea of safely moving all six of us as well as our toys and whatever else without leaving behind the odd child or family pet was obviously too daunting a task that neither of them wanted to face.

My first move therefore was not until I went off on my merry way to uni. Car piled high with clothes, duvet, kitchen bits and pieces, freshly made cakes put in by my mum and all sorts of other completely unnecessary items, I set off for my new life in the big wide world.

Sadly my move inexperience showed only too clearly. The boxes I thought I had so cleverly crammed were of course far too heavy to lift up to my third floor bedroom, there was no way I was going to have space for my inflatable armchair, beanbag and Ikea pop up wardrobe and from the way I had shoved things together, I was unlikely to find anything much before the end of the first term.

Several moves later, I have hopefully learned my lesson. Each box is clearly marked with its contents and the room it is to go into. However having done an office move and a home move all in the space of a week, I shan't be gaining any more practice in the art of moving any time soon.

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