It’s been a busy weekend, as it’s my last as a homeowner in the town I’ve lived for the last 19 years or more. That’s the longest I’ve ever lived in one town – county even – and it all comes to an end on Thursday when I hand the keys over to new owners.
It’s interesting that I don’t feel sad about it. I’m not nostalgic or dwelling on the past. The only emotional moment I’ve had came yesterday, when clearing stuff out of the garage. In a drawer I came across the leads, collars, and vet’s records for two dogs I used to own which died a few years ago. I could still smell them both as soon as the drawer opened, and that set off the waterworks for me. I know I don’t need those things, but they’re still coming with me to my new place, as are their ashes which are safely packed away.
I don’t seem to have put down very deep roots in that town: I have very few friends there and am sure I’ll keep in touch with them: I’ll only be an hour away.
I am shattered though. I didn’t think I had that much to do, but emptying the loft and sorting stuff out into what’ll be kept, what’s going to charity shops and what is going to the top has all taken time. I know I should have started packing etc much earlier, but I’m a last minute kind of guy.
I’m very excited about what the future holds in store for Dee and I when we get our first place together in a couple of months (it’s being built and isn’t ready yet).