This was our last weekend in Dalston, and my was it underwhelming. By 2pm yesterday afternoon my mum had been and gone after a relatively short but much appreciated visit to help us get the packing under way, and mark our last trip to Cirrik for a while (the best Turkish in Dalston: discuss).
Now. on the plus side, by 2pm yesterday, our pile of successfully packed belongings looked like this:
(I was about to say, I wish I could sleep with my chin on my toes like that – but how would that work for me, really? I think I’ll stick with my stiff hip joints and arthritic toe after all, thanks very much.)
At the risk of making this week’s post all about the tiresome weekend we’ve had packing up all our worldly goods for the Move Part #1 to friends’ and into storage on Saturday, I am relieved to report we’ve done most of it now.
We even managed to get out into the sunshine this evening for half a pint at the Three Compasses before supper this evening, and it was good to see Tom last night for a delicious eat at the Prince Arthur. The Owl told me off for being sentimental about our last Cirrik lunch for a while, but I was thinking about it today and I think it’s safe to say this house has been one of the most significant in my adult life really, with all the parties and dinners and laughs, loves and tears over the years… Can’t remember when Nancy first moved in, but it must be at least seven years ago. And now its coming to an end. So yes, we will be back to see S&C (and Cirrik for that matter), but we won’t be able to live here again its unlikely, and it won’t be the same… So yep, I’m guilty and fine with being a bit nostalgic. End of an era.
The list now looks like this:
And even though the move on date has been pushed back ANOTHER week due to the ill-posted seven day mortgage ‘cooling off period’, we’re feeling relatively zen and under control. Relatively. And now I can cross “blog” off the list too.