another new home.

hair dryer…show yourself.  wooly socks, show yourself. mobile charger, where art thou? i was saying that quite a lot the first few days of living in my new flat. items packed. packed so well i couldn’t remember where i’d packed them.

you know when you can’t believe something, like pinch-yourself-type-stuff? well, that’s how i felt the first two hours in my new cottage flat. i remember sitting watching the simpsons and then the x factor (of all things) eating a tin of mackerel fish with risotto (all I had in the cupboard) and i was surrounded by my belongings. every ten minutes or so i would look about the hardwood floor. i couldn’t bring myself to start unpacking.

i will say that half pint hasn’t seen this much action since july twenty-first. 

that was the day he transported four canadian girls and their suitcases to the lake district.  i spoke to my dad on my mobile while i sat in my car, waiting for the landlords to show up. i told him he would've been proud of my packing abilities. i utilized the space quite well. everything i own fits in my car.

mr. and mrs. landlords are an older, retired couple in their sixties. they live in spain. they took their time to show me how the wifi worked. how the tv worked. how the oven, washing machine  and dryer worked. how to empty the vacuum canister. where the breaker panel was. the hot water tank. they even turned on the shower to show me how that worked too. we tested the fire alarm together and walked through a step-by-step instruction on how the heating system works. some of this stuff i already knew, but i thought it sweet how they wanted to show me. so, i played along because it was obvious they were proud of their cottage and how much they wanted to make sure it was just right for their new tenant, me. i thanked them for such a thorough introduction. they gave me their email address.  they told me they wouldn’t rent anything they wouldn’t want to live in. good motto, i said.  before they left, mrs.landlord quickly asked if she could use my loo. my loo? of course, i said. then she asked if she could leave a small amount of rubbish in my bin. gee, mrs. landlord, i said, i don’t know…such a tall order and all. we laughed and it was then that i decided how fortunate i was to have such lovely landlords. then, surprisingly, she hugged me and told me to enjoy the cottage. mr. landlord also offered to help unload my car with me. which i declined for a very simple reason. when they left, i had to sit down. my head was spinning.

when the lettings agent told me all you need to bring is bedding…she really meant it. there’s a bookshelf full of books. good books. there’s board games. there’s pictures on the wall. there’s lamps that give soft lighting.  there’s wifi. there’s a phone line. there’s a tv with cable as well as a dvd player.

i’m reacting this way because my first flat was a studio. it was sparsely furnished, with no extras.  it was halfway underground. i think there was a mold problem developing in the corner. my bed folded up into the wall. i had three areas to park my car because the parking situation was such a crap shoot and then there was the last resort parking area.  the leafy, deserted, dark and scary street. i had carpet in the kitchen and bathroom (gagmewithawoodenspoon) and storage heating that took half a day to warm up and cool down. the water pressure in the shower was pitiful. and, we can’t forget my neighbour who consistently demonstrated characteristics of a paranoid schizophrenic. having said all that, it was a great warm-up to living on my own in the uk. i do recognise that and i thank God for it. 

can you understand why i didn't start unpacking just yet? my mind was blown. i needed some time and a decent night’s sleep to accept what just happened here. whoa.