I’ve lived in lots of houses. Heaps.
I’m not one to get attached to bricks and mortar, but thereis a small twinge of the tear ducts when one says goodbye to a home.
This house was lived in by my little family for three yearsand one month. Which by my gypsy-vagabond-nomad-gadabout standards is ages.
But it’s not just the years; It’s what those years haveincluded. We moved here when Millar was 8 months old. Up until then we hadlived in a one bedroom apartment in East St Kilda which was rather cosy. This new place with its large open plan living and 4 bedrooms seemed cavernous incomparison.
We moved in and started filling all that space with thethings a family with young children accumulates over three years… includinganother child.
We filled it with so much stuff that it is really difficultto store it all for a 6 month trip. We have given stuff away, sold stuff anddumped a LOT. As I write this, my husband is still at the house figuring outwhat to do with it all. So much stuff.
We got married here. In the large cavernous open plan living area.
Both of my children took their first steps in this house. Onthe same beige carpet in the living room, two and a half years apart.
Millar is quite attached to this house. It’s all he’s everknown. He wants to pack it up and take it to India with us. I told him it’s toobig but he said I should just squish it down. He’s been watching us vacuum packthings for storage, so perhaps that’s where the idea came from.
The thing is, even if we weren’t going to India, we’d bemoving. Not over Christmas and New Year though. That’s a special kind of crazyand not a lot of fun. We would have chosen a better time to move but we wouldstill be saying goodbye.
There are things I will miss. Mostly the memories, but thepeople that created those are coming with me.
Then there are the things I won’t miss. Here is a selectionfrom my list:
- The property management company with a lax attitude towardsmaintenance requests
- The air conditioner that drips water after only twentyminutes of use
- The un-useable back yard of bark and stabby stones
- The flax planted under the clothesline that grows higherthan said clothesline, making two-thirds of the line un-useable unless you pack secateurs in your peg basket
- The wind that roars through the roof of the front bedroom,waking me and driving me crazy
So, goodbye house. You’ve been good to us, for the mostpart. Glad we hired a cleaner though because you are huge and a bitch to clean.
We’ll miss you. But we look forward to the houses of ourfuture. Fingers crossed for a lawn in the backyard.
I hope you get a nice family living there with children thatdon’t draw on the walls and a cat that doesn’t vomit on your carpets.
Toushka and family.