Invasion

Just this morning, we had a large and empty house here. Now it looks like a huge pawnshop.

The movers called early in the morning saying that they’d be here by one. We spent the morning in apprehension, and at a quarter to one Staffan experienced an urgent need for The Times, so he walked away to the nearest convenient store. I am glad he walked because he would have never got the car back into the parking. The van came at five to one, reared skilfully up to the entrance, and Pandora’s box opened. Honestly, I had no idea we had that many possessions. It didn't feel that much at the other end. And I had thought I had planned everything nicely. Bu my confusion was total. To the movers’ prompt questions about where to put this or that I answered I wasn’t sure, just put it anywhere. This obviously wouldn’t have worked, so I had to pull myself together and give orders.

There is one peculiar thing about British houses: the stairs are very narrow. But the movers seemd to be familiar with this local feature. I don’t know how they managed to take things upstairs – and I don’t want to think about how we will one day take them down again. I knew I had measured everything, but I was worried about the cupboard. It fit in elegantly. While the men carried in more and more stuff I started unpacking the boxes with glass and china, trying to put everything in the right place from start. Staffan did come back with the newspaper, but preferred to withdraw from the activity, presenting a good reason after a glass broke. It was a plain IKEA glass, and anyway, a broken glass means luck. And Staffan did put together the kitchen table. I have a tendency to become maniac, so I just went on and on – but there were more and more things brought into the house until the ground floor was completely packed. I am sure there wouldn’t be room for another shoebox when the avalanche suddenly stopped. I signed the papers, and the van was gone.

In the middle of the chaos, we took a bottle of champagne from the fridge – real, expensive champagne that someone had given us at the farewell party – and sat down in our wonderful new garden. We had our own champagne glasses that I took from our own dear cupboard. We had my favourite little bowl for the nuts. We were at home.

Then we went to the pub across the road for dinner. The pub has exquisite Indian food. There were swans and rowing boats on the river.

Staffan has gone to bed – still a temporary bed, but more comfortable than the previous nights. I have managed to navigate between coffee tables and loudspeakers to the corner where my computer has been hiding all day, horrified by the invasion. I cannot upload any photos because I've mislaid the cable. It will turn up in a few days.

Picture added a few days later. The cable was of course where it was supposed to be, where I had put it in order to be able to find it