Tuesday, April 29, 2003

We moved into our house yesterday. For a day which I have quietly been anxious about for a while now - would we get the decorating done in time, would all of the utilities be in place, would we be up to the heavy task of moving furniture from K.'s mum's home to our new place? - things went as smoothly as can be imagined.

Our day began at Six AM, with breakfast and a provisional list of tasks to be achieved before K. collected the removal van we had rented, so that the largest items could be moved. These tasks included disassembling her bed - a sizeable, flat-pack monster of a thing, which K. enthusiastically set about, armed only with a winning combination of mechanical nous and a long-suffering electric screwdriver, moving multifarious, outsized receptacles containing all manner of clothing items and the general shifting of the bits of my wife's everyday life to places where they could be safely stored until needed. To give you a picture, your blogsmith's collection of clothing fits into one, humbly-sized chest of drawers.

My wife has two, groaning wardrobes filled with clothing, a cabinet full of shoes and a separate, wall-mounted rack of footwear, a wire rack filled with drawers of clobber, a chest of drawers one-and-a-half times the size of the one that I use and clothing items secreted all over her room which are not filed and just generally hang out in public, on display.

To move all of my wife's wardrobe has been a task accomplished in advance as much as possible, but yesterday saw the bulk of the work undertaken, and her clothing has now aggressively colonised the spare bedroom in our new house.

The major work came with the moving of our sofa, matress and kitchen table and it's a godsend that all hands went to the pumps for these tasks - My mother-in-law has been tireless in her assistance and ruled on Monday more than anybody else who has ever ruled before. Likewise, K.'s brother, A., came up from London to help out and provided a much-needed assist which got us through the heavy work in the afternoon. Also? We found time to bond over "Matrix"-related geek issues and found out that, priorly unbeknownst to either of us, we had both opted for similar, Brothers Wachowski-esque, start-up messages on our mobile phones. For the curious, I publicly confess that my phone now boots-up and greets me with the "Hmm...Upgrades..." Neo-ism from the trailer.

And yes, I realise fully that I am utterly beyond help.

Eventually, the work was done and we had made our home into a more or less habitable space, uncooperative and bizarrely truculent flat-pack wardrobes, missing bolts and difficult to position appliances not withstanding (our kitchen was apparently designed without the thought that it's eventual occupants might want to have such absurd luxuries as fridges, cookers, food storage cabinetry and preparation surfaces close to hand). We went to sleep last night feeling a little melancholic for some of the things that we had lost - K. moving from the home that she's known for a long time to her own house for the first time, and me bemoaning the fact that I will only sparingly get to visit with Ella, the family pooch, whose strong jaws will miss my tender wrists and whose huge, brown eyes are capable of making you forget all too easily that she's often a paper-eating scamp of the highest order.

We have our own place, now, which is a first for both of us - do we have to become adults now, as well?

Sunday, April 27, 2003

First Season is very pleased to welcome another potential future film geek to the world, in the fine form of young Ryan Morrison, who was born to his parents Paul and Jo at 7:23 AM this morning, at Scarborough Hospital, weighing in at seven pounds and two ounces.

I wish baby, mother and father all of the best and hope to get to see you all at the end of the week.

My kid brother is now a dad and I'm pretty confident that he will do an amazing job. Good luck, Paul...

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