The spare room I have been sleeping in is now lined with boxes, as are most of the rooms of the house. The moving company came today and packed almost everything, and they’ll be coming back tomorrow with the moving truck to take it all to the new Vicarage in Kidwelly.
It’s a strange idea to me, hiring a company to pack all your stuff for you and move it. I knew you could hire people to move your stuff, but to pack it for you too? I’ve always packed it myself. The process allows me to decide what to keep and what to discard. I haven’t even used a moving company, ever. I have always just rented a truck, relying on helpful friends to load it up. Then driven it myself to the new location, trusting in other friends to help me unload at my destination.
I thought it best that Dad and I be elsewhere while strangers invaded the house. Luckily he had some errands to run anyway, so I didn’t even have to try to convince him. We left before they got here. We got his church stuff done, which including him saying ‘goodbye’ to the oldest church in his parish. I teared up a little. Then we went to Kidwelly to drop off the printers and adjust the power cords on Tarragon’s vivarium.
Tarragon is my Dad’s bearded dragon (a lizard), that we had brought up to Kidwelly the day before. The timer that controls the uv lamp and heat lamp wouldn’t fit on the power strip, so we had to put everything on the timer. Today we brought additional extensions and splitters to be able to set it up properly.
When we got back the packers had already left, my duvet was in a box, and it finally looks like we’re moving. I’ve been saying that it’s my family that’s moving and I’m just helping, but really it feels like we all are. My family home is relocating. I actually really like it here in Wales, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should go live in Dalton at all.
To catch up those who haven’t read my other posts on the subject. The plan, after moving to the UK and spending some time with my immediate family, was to then travel north to Dalton-in-Furness. A small town just north of, and practically connected with, Barrow-in-Furness. I grew up in Barrow. I still have friends there, but it’s a grim town and I never want to live there again.
I really should go. My Grandparents are expecting me to move into the bungalow in Dalton. They’ve already modified the box room to be able to fit a bed and a desk in there. My friends are also expecting me. They all stayed in touch during my time in America. It would be unfair to all of them to change my plans now.
On the other hand, Wales in beautiful. The house in Kidwelly has a fantastic view of the town, including Kidwelly Castle. And, if I’m really being honest here, I don’t want to leave my parents and sister again. We were apart for 12 years while I lived in america. I’ve only been back about a month. The difference though is that now I can come back anytime. I could spend a few months with my Grandparents and see how I feel, then come back to Wales if choose to.
There’s also my Sister’s daughters. An adorably cute pair. One of the reasons I wanted to come back was to be their Uncle. I want to take an active role in their lives, or at the very least be available to them. I can’t ever be Dad myself so being a kick-ass Uncle will have to do. So I will go to Dalton to visit, catch up with my friends and family up there, and then decide whether I’m staying or coming back to Kidwelly.
In other news I’ve made a new Facebook friend! Geoffrey Porter is a writer too, and has a blog called Codename: Bear. So far my favourite stories are Potato Vengeance and Necropsy. They appeal to my own morbidity! However that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Read, enjoy and follow his blog!