Despite the horror stories we are so often told the sale completed within 6 weeks. With only one minor hitch, although it felt pretty major at the time, especially as I was due out of the country!
The mortgage company miscalculated my income taking it as every 4 weeks rather than monthly - it makes all the difference apparently, cue overnight panic and palpitations. Luckily Nigel, my cool as a cucumber mortgage broker told me to enjoy my holiday and that he would sort this. He dutifully did and I received a calming call from him just as I stepped off the ferry in France, saying the mortgage had been approved. Cue desperately needing an excited wee and more palpitations! I think the kids and I squeezed each other till we popped and screamed a lot at this point!
Some of my fabulous friends (Neil, Dave and Annabel) back in the UK were coming in everyday packing up bits and bobs of the house where we lived for me. Being arty and very visual, I have the capacity to get monumentally sidetracked with tasks such as this. Musing over where I got something, the memories attached to it and the people it may remind me of. Everything tells a story, My friend Neil claims it's procrastination at it's finest! I say bits and bobs, OK, they packed 90% of my stuff, for which I am forever grateful (thanks lovelies). I am, it turns out, a boderline hoarder. Rather like Nick Cave's Museum of Important Shit in 20,000 Days on Earth, I too have my own important shit (I have also been on earth for 15,744 days just in case you idly wondered that)! I've collected things that would look wonderful in a painting for years, all in preparation for this dream of mine! If I ever decided to take up dusting it would be a potential nightmare darlings! The house was also disguised as a Tardis, and I am a squirrel, I can bury things in the smallest of places in order to fit it all in. I will never know how I owned so much stuff in such a limited space. I gave plenty to charity shops, but no matter how much I claimed to declutter (often met with giggles or sighs of relief from Annabel), I still seemed to own A LOT!! Surely most of it was the children's...??
I digress...by the time I got back to the UK two weeks later, the packing was almost complete, the solicitor was on the case and I had given my months notice on the house we were living in. The dream was coming true!!
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