Round mirror

Living room

I am both short and long sighted. My spectacles get in the way when shaving, so I have to get close to the mirror. The one over the sink is too far away, providing only an impression of my face.

For the last four and a half years a round ivory coloured flower relief mirror has hung on the ensuite bathroom wall. It was useful when shaving the right side of my face whilst I faced the window.

Every time I stand up in there, the view straight ahead is so embedded in my brain, I experience a shock that I do not see a reflection of my head, shoulders, upper torso; only a painted wall.

I do not know where the bubble wrapped beauty is hiding in our ever evolving ware house.

Coat hanger

Sydney Harbour Bridge is ungraciously described as the coat hanger. Our plastic and timber collection, proved too great for a cardboard box.

At last the book chest is contributing to the move, five days and counting!

Count down

28 days from now we will have:

  • Been to the Weekend Transfer Station (tip) to dispose of a king sized bed;
  • Donated to Vinnies;
  • Sorted the garden and plants out;
  • Had many farewells with friends;
  • Seen Mission: Impossible – Fallout;
  • Celebrated a 31st birthday;
  • Exited work;
  • Finished packing up the house in Leichhardt;
  • Travelled 927.7 km (576.45 miles) north;
  • Stayed one night at the Colmslie Hotel; and
  • Slept two nights in our new home in Morningside.

I first used the clock and calendar picture, early in my blogging career; you can read the post, from 2012 here: Life Through Time.

Backache, headache; tomorrow is the day

Moving house is an opportunity to lift some of the weight of possessions from our shoulders. I knew this before we started packing 70 crates, why wasn’t I more ruthless? We have so many items that we have trailed with us from place to place.

Today we gave away three pieces of furniture to a man that restores things, in the hope that they can find a new home.

My mother’s 1950s Singer treadle sewing machine that she could never use because of the callipers she wore. During my childhood it sat under the window of the spare bedroom in my grand parents house. Topped by a potted aspidistra; years of water damage led to the slow degradation of the veneer beneath. I inherited the sewing machine in 1972, using it to alter clothes and make soft furnishings.

Our bed for the first ten years together; an early 20th century slatted oak head and foot boards. It had lain in the loft wrapped in polythene for the last three years.

A momento of one of our happy excursions to the southern highlands of New South Wales. A small Art Deco side table with a diagonal grain veneer top.

This represents the start of releasing the pretty things from our nest; a new chapter.