The shifting went off eventfully. Long story, so I won't get into that. But the movers were good, everything was intact except for a broken glass but even that I can’t be too sure because I may just have had something to do with it.
I already am aware of the fact that I have no sense of direction. What I didn’t know was that I also couldn’t measure space. When I first saw the flat I got the feeling the rooms were small. And I had seen the flat twice before moving in. I kept cribbing to everybody & remember telling you also that there was not much space. Now that I have moved in and kept all my furniture in place I realise I am wrong. There is space, much more space than I anticipated.
The first day was a nightmare. I walked around the new apartment with a million things buzzing through my mind but did absolutely nothing. It felt like jetlag, this feeling of numbness which overwhelmed me. I have never experienced jetlag personally. But if I ever did I'm sure its just going to be like this.
When it was time to sleep I realised none of the beds had mattresses on them.
“I told the packers to dispose all of them.” says better-half casually.
I stare at him in disbelief.
That whole week we slept on the floor. Because the furniture guys took one week to deliver the bedding we ordered. Though we padded the floor well with blankets and flannel we all got up with aching bones everyday. The kids were cribbing big-time & I thought I was going to fall sick if it went on like this.
On the last night of this ordeal I got up in the middle of the night for something. It was then it struck me. I could sleep on the sofa. I lowered myself onto the soft cushiony foam and sighed in bliss. And kicked myself for not thinking of it earlier.
The better-half gets up as if on cue and orders me off.
I pretend to be deeply asleep.
He wakes me up.
I mumble "5 minutes" hoping he’ll nod off by then.
Exactly 5 minutes later he wakes me again and reminds me they are leather sofas.
A few minutes later I heard an exasperated intake of breath.
Again a few minutes later I hear him sigh ‘They’ll sag under your weight’.
Muttering uncomplimentary things about where he can get off with his precious sofas, I go back to the cold floor. Atleast I got uninterrupted sleep there.
The first week was terrible. We literally lived in a glass house. All the rooms have huge windows. But the living room window takes the cake. One whole wall is a window. At first we thought it had reflective glass. On the 1st night I went out into the balcony to confirm and my heart dropped. It was clear as day. Every single thing we did could be seen from outside. And directly opposite were around 6 windows of the neighbouring apartments.
I suggested to the better-half that we cover the windows with newspapers till we get the curtains. The better-half disagreed.
“We’ll buy curtains as soon as possible, until then it will remain bare” he remained adamant.
I shook my head wearily and placed the cartons I had already unpacked, in front of the window. After a few days we got somebody to drill holes for the bedroom curtain rods. I used the curtains I already had, so those rooms were ok.
Once the immediate requirements were completed we went curtain shopping. And came back home pretty pleased with ourselves. We went to a store who dealt with curtains and the accessories. We selected the curtain material, then the gauzy material to let the light through, then the blackout cloth which blocked out the light if we didn’t want it, chose the rods and the mechanisms to open & close the curtains. Then waited for them to give us the estimation.
The price when it was revealed shattered us. Let’s just say that for the same amount I could have brought the entire furniture in my living room. Well almost. For now it’s back to the drawing board.
Meanwhile we are all on our best behaviour, atleast in the living room.
In other news[related to the move, everything is related to the move], the kids come back home a whole hour early coz theirs is the first stop from the school. They were so thrilled in the beginning but now are complaining they don’t get enough time to bond with their bus-friends;-/.
I found a nice supermarket[nice meaning there’s lots of Indian foodstuff] tucked away in the corner. Just 5 minutes away. I’m so lucky. They opened newly around 3 weeks back. Imagine. I’m imagining that all Indians in the locality must be so pleased.
An Indian family has moved in on the floor below mine. They are Malayalee Christians; I have not met them or even seen them but I knowJ. How??? When I open my kitchen window I can hear them. Especially when the lady is on the phone, I can hear her through the din the pigeons make. Her conversations are peppered with pullikaaran[an old-fashioned way of referring to the husband] and Ammaniamamma and Sunnychayans :-D. I’m not particularly looking to meet them, just content they are around.
My Mil sent duck roast all the way from Kerala through a cousin.
It was like manna from heaven.
I know what you are thinking??? You are wondering why this Nancy’s reactions are always OTT.
Well let me put it another way. You are bone-weary from all that unpacking, tiredly thinking of what to make for dinner when all you want to do is flop on the bed; just then the door-bell rings and this packet of delicious duck-roast is placed in your hands.
I rest my case.
If any of the neighbours were watching through the window, they would have caught sight of a fat lady clutching a newspaper covered package complete with strings close to her heart, sinking to her knees in slow motion and weeping tears of joy.
Now that is going Over The Top even by my standards;-D
|The Glass Window|