You never wash up after yourself

I suppose I’m having something of a moment. Indulge me. I’ve just discovered Bell X1 and it’s having an effect.

I have spent  a week on my knees. In no particular order, prayer, sticking needles in kiddies (I just can’t do IV lines while standing…), scrubbing skirting boards. It’s been quite a job, removing layers upon layers of grime and smoke grease from what is really quite a nice house underneath all the dirt. I feel like that chap in the white suit in Black Books who comes in to clean the shop. The oven is preparing itself for round 3 of Mr Muscle. I even have the white singlet and marigolds.

I have pretty much everything moved in except the books, just failing on my general rule that you should never own more than you can fit in your car in one go. I suppose I’ve been here for almost a quarter of a century, us westerners will always accumulate a trail of stuff wherever we go.

I have raided friends and family for pots, and pans and plates sofas. Anyone looking rid of their duplicate house wear is in for a treat. I have the most unmtatching house in the country. I love it.

And I know moving 5 mins down the road is hardly a big deal, surely NZ was further, and bigger. But somehow it still seems significant. Parents talk of empty nest syndrome but what do we talk about. Somehow this seems more permanent. Combining a birthday and moving out in the same week makes you act your age somehow. Whether or not you feel it.

I’m yet to meet anyone with English as a first language in my little cul de sac, I’ve had friendly waves from  a few Portugese guys and a few courteous nods of approval from some slightly inebriated Lithuanians in the corner. Makes the Garvaghy Road seem kind of exotic. My parents don’t even know where East Timor is (and I admit to being a bit dubious myself…), and here I have it on my doorstep. My Portugese is still limited to a fumbled “obregada” that I use with the Portugese mums in work after I’ve done their baby check. It gets a laugh, more from bewilderment that comprehension. Marks for effort…

Tomorrow I wake up in a strange bed, in what seems like a different world. Melodramatic or what…


4 Responses to “You never wash up after yourself”

  1. 1 tim higgins May 11, 2008 at 10:51 pm

    Praise God for the house man. Thats great that your in and an answer to prayer. Hope it feels like home really soon

  2. 2 Skeeno May 12, 2008 at 2:58 pm


  3. 3 Nelly And I May 14, 2008 at 5:53 pm

    Skeeno – hence the [one step closer to glory blog]…

  4. 4 Skeeno May 16, 2008 at 11:36 am

    Aaaaahhh, I see…

    Man, that episode of Black Books is hilarious! I fully intend to arrive at your new pad with my white gloves!

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May 2008
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