5 Horrors of moving

I have moved many times in my life, from one house to another and even across the Atlantic once. You’d think after doing it so often, I’d have the entire thing down to a science. Not so. There is however one pearl of wisdom I’d like to pass on.

If you have a choice, stay put.

We, however, have moved. And we suffered all of these horrors.

5. Leaving.

I hate saying goodbye but it’s worse when I don’t. So I said goodbye to our trees (we had named them…I know, we’re nuts), the river, the house, the flowers…It was awful.

4. Packing sucks.

There are never enough boxes. We bought around 50 of the things and still ran out. We ended up using garbage bags that tore apart as soon as we filled them.

P.S. You find out just how much useless stuff you have when you pack. Ahem…two wet vacs?

3. There are always accidents.

With us it was leaving things behind. Somehow, we left behind the cable of my beloved elliptical, a plant, a container of dog food and some bowls. Don’t ask me how we didn’t see them. I have no idea.’

P.S. Duck tape and hairy dogs do not mix well.

2. All those calls.

When you move, you have to unhook all the services that turn your home from a space to a livable heaven. All of them will have waiting times of at least 45 minutes and they probably all want you to ask for them to stop their service in writing. Fun huh?

Wait! You still have to hook up your new home! Yeap. Double those calls because none of those old services will work in your new house. Guaranteed.

1. Those fun last minute surprises.

Something, usually something big, but at least something will go awry. Either the sun they were promising will be replaced by rain, or the guy who was coming to connect the electricity got the wrong day or you lost the key to the new place. Something will go wrong because life likes to laugh.

With us it was our dog. Ocean decided she didn’t like to be left out of the fun and she managed to get out the door in the nanosecond it took for hubby to close it. While we screamed her name uselessly, she ran away to discover the new neighbourhood.

Now all we have to do is unpack…



The 4 horrors of book-lending

Today, someone at DayJob commented on how much they’d like to try a book by Linda Howard.

Then, they pointedly looked at the book in my hands (by Linda Howard) and asked if I was done with it.

I was done alright. But I wasn’t letting that book out of my hands. Not only is Linda Howard one of my favourite authors, I’ve lent out books in the past and horrible things have happened.

Allow me to explain the insufferable horrors and my reactions.


They broke the spine or tore pages.

I read my books and hold them like cherished babies. Nothing gets folded or disrupted. If people break any part of them from the spine to the pages, I cry.

Reaction: I cursed all their ancestors and wished they were geckos.


They spilled something on it.

I don’t care if it’s water (and it usually isn’t). People have returned books after spilling coffee, gum or some strange, sticky substance among the pages.

Reaction: I cursed all their ancestors and wished they were geckos.


They lost it or ‘lent’ it to someone else.

With or without apologies, the bottom line is my book is gone and I have a hole in my heart.

Reaction:  I cursed all their ancestors and wished they were geckos.


They wrote in it.

I don’t care if someone thinks they’re Plato with the insight to move millions or if they saw an ‘editing’ mistake and had to fix it. I don’t want their writing in my book.

Reaction: I cursed all their ancestors and wished they were geckos.


After experiencing all 4 of these horrors, I’ve resorted to not lending out books. Ever. I keep them in their shelves, neatly and carefully organized by genre. Not a page out of place.

I like to think they’re happy. More importantly, so am I.

And so are the geckos.