Box Packing and Belly Piercing

We have spent almost all day packing. The children have been gracious and tolerant and willing. I hope that means they are as excited about the move as I am. Deciding what to pack now and what to keep whilst we camp (there will be a hiatus between container leaving and our own departure of some three weeks) has been taxing. But we have managed: I have persuaded Hat she does not need 34 teddies and that no they will not ‘die’ in transit in the container; I have urged Ben to consider reducing the number of tomes beside his bed (and avail of the school library instead) and I have promised Amelia that her clothes – those in the container – will be available to her the moment we reach Outpost so she can enjoy a change of wardrobe. ‘Oh good’, she said visibly relieved, ‘I thought I’d be wearing the same stuff for six months’. Heaven Forbid. Though with still sorry state of washing machine we all rather smell as if we have anyway.

The dogs are in a twitch at the sight of so many boxes and bags being filled. They sulked in the garden all day but perked up when I took them for a walk on an increasingly unkempt farm; in the eight days since I last walked it the weeds have grown ever taller and the place even more desperate looking. Not that the dogs minded, they dashed about joyfully chasing the guinea fowl, rats and feral cats that lurk in an ever-increasing tangle of vegetation.

My mum is arriving tomorrow; it is a year since I saw her and a year and a half since she last saw the children. She will notice changes everywhere including that the children have grown: doubtless she will have to speak up to Ben and Amelia now. She will also notice that I look older. Considerably.

I recently wrote a story about the benefits of stress – one being that it is supposed to rejuvenate a person’s appearance. The year I’ve had I ought to look 17. Alas, I look more than old enough to be the mother of a not-yet 17 year old son. I could be his grandmother after a sleepless night.

Between packing boxes and labelling trunks Amelia, for want of some distraction, stapled her ear. She said it was a mistake. Hmm. Convenient, then, that it’s at precisely the point where a 13 year old may want a second ear piercing and that she had a spare stud to insert, ‘well no point in wasting the hole’ she said cheerfully. I am assuming she would not feel compelled to staple either her belly button or her tongue.

To bed now. The removal company are in tomorrow. I asked if could send some grass – the kind you mow –to begin a lawn in Outpost, you understand. They have not deigned to reply, they have dismissed me as mad before we have even begun.

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7 Responses to “Box Packing and Belly Piercing”

  1. Tim Says:

    I’m glad to hear that your family seems to be cooperating so well!

  2. Roberta Says:

    You have made me smile, all be it a sad one. I know what it is like to move from somewhere you love, to somewhere new. After reading this, this morning – I sat on my own sunny porch and tried to connect with the feeling of leaving my hardwood forest. I believe it would break my spirit and my heart.

    Your posts remind me of something I wrote years ago…a daily vignette of our family for a story board I belonged too. Full of humor and family intrigue. I thought of publishing it, but now it is so dated, I dare not.

    Thank you for sharing your world with us. I am so intrigued with the vast differences you encounter and your wonderful family! (Tell Hat that I watch Nigella too, and I can’t cook a lick.)

    I look forward to more!

  3. Carolyn Says:

    HAHAHAHAHAHA HA HA HA!!!!!

    Oh that is so funny, I can’t believe she stapled her ear! How clever!

    HAHAHA!!!!

    Moving is tough. I’m sure it’ll go well, and hopefully it will not be punctuated with any more staples. HEEhee!

  4. Carol Says:

    Can’t believe Amelia managed to staple her ear. And I wouldn’t have thought a staple and a stud were of the same thickness – it must have hurt to push the stud through – unless you have industrial sized staples in your house for packing up! I think she should be congratulated on doing such a brave thing – I suffered agony when I had my ears re-pierced last summer at a Tattoo parlour! Enjoy Mums visit.

  5. Mapesbury Mum Says:

    Does not the reluctant memsahib remember our earpiercing attempts in the distant years of boarding school? I seem to remember earning a few bob! Spent many years in a house filled with friends and laughter (and a lot more!) and was so sad to leave it. Some months after settling into where we are now we went back and I realised it wasn’t the actual bricks and mortar but the memories that made it such a happy home and we’d taken those with us – we were left staring at a normal terraced house and had no ties to it….It’ll be fun where you’re going and hopefully this time will be able to visit!

  6. reluctantmemsahib Says:

    Thank you all. Roberta, you’re so right: moving from a place you love is a wrench. But Mapesbury Mum I loved your comment about bricks and mortar; you’re so right: we’ll take the happy memories with us, indeed I have watched many of them being safely wrapped and placed in cartons, faces smiling from photograph frames. The not so good – and there were many here – can be left behind. Please come and visit; we’ll eat mangoes and sit in the sun.

  7. Sundried Tomatoes and Body Piercings « Reluctant Memsahib Says:

    […] piercing came out, […]

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