This is what I remember from moving house in days of yore.
This bone weary tiredness. Everything aches, everything is perpetually dirty, no matter how hard or long I clean for, and I am permanently running around.
I took a day away from school today in order to catch up on things that had slipped through the net and which were becoming urgent. Things like getting my front headlight fixed. Things like going to the post office with some mail which has been waiting for me to post it for weeks. Things like buying contact lens solution and a hundred other tedious little jobs that gnaw away at my soul.
And dealing with one of my big worries, buying furniture.
We desperately need some key pieces of furniture, mostly storage items that will mean we can actually empty boxes and you know, put things away, so that we don’t look like we live in Pickfords all year round.
We have looked in the regular places, but to no avail. We are sick of Ikea furniture unless we have to have it. We cannot afford ritzy furniture, but we like well made things that are nice to look at.
It is not really the season for flea markets. Antique shops are out of our league, and the local auctions are awkward to get to if you have three children and jobs etc. We have come up with zip, zilch, nada.
I saw a chest of drawers in our local town in a charity shop for £50 as I flew through the other day. My dad was around to help me lift it today, and I decided it was nice enough, and that we would have it. Tallulah has destroyed her chest of drawers, and another move will finish them off totally. Oscar is not far behind with his.
We got there today to find that on closer inspection, which I didn’t have time to have last week, the drawer fronts had been taken off and then glued back on, so the dove tailed joints were shafted. Not impressed.
We came away empty handed, and I was very woeful.
Then my dad casually mentioned that he had seen an ad in the Leicester Mercury for a second hand furniture warehouse in Leicester, not far from where our new house is. He suggested we go and have a look.
Sometimes my father has flashes of genius like inspiration. This was one of those times.
It was amazing.
I love fossicking around places like this. It is actually two, huge warehouses, about a mile apart, in which you can buy everything from a Corby trouser press to a ten foot wide gilded mirror. It is cold, and dirty, and a bit dark, and there are some truly hideous pieces, which in themselves are rather splendid in their vileness. But there is also treasure. Treasure that I like anyway.
I fell in love with a number of things:
- A grandfather clock with a painted face.
- A Corby trouser press (I don’t want to press trousers, they just make me laugh and I want one).
- Some gorgeous, Georgian, bow fronted chests of drawers.
- A purple velvet chaise longue (oh yes!)
- Some eight foot tall, eight foot wide, collectors display cabinets in dark wood with glass fronts and brass handles. These made my heart go boom with desire.
They also had some not hideous wardrobes (I hate wardrobes, so to find wardrobes I can even tolerate is pretty amazing).
And I cannot tell you how excited I was about:
- An enormous mangle painted in bright, narrow boat style colours
- An old Postman Pat ride in the shape of Pat’s van which had clearly come from a shopping centre
- A seven foot high bee hive, for the Queen of all bees.
- and a flight simulator in the shape of the front of a jet plane
I wanted all of these things, for no apparent reason, and just because they were there, and I felt that I needed them in my life.
The above is why the universe has not made me unbelievably wealthy yet. Divine forces know that I do not need to fill my 1930’s semi with the nose cone of a fake jet plane, much as I want to.
I didn’t buy anything, because there was so much to choose from, after such a dearth, that I got quite overwhelmed and simply didn’t know where to start. I was also afraid that if I did start, I might not know how to stop, which would be very bad on our budget.
Jason is going to go with me at the weekend, and I am hoping, that even though it would be a very stupid thing to buy indeed, that the CLD (TM) will be mine at last.
And the drawers, of course.
But mostly the CLD.