Everybody is entitled to their own opinion.

Please don't tell me yours.
It's like this. I am 45. ( I know you know, just bear with me)
When I was 16 I rented my first house with a friend. Thus began my venture into being an adult, having my own space, being a homemaker.
Since then I have lived in 1 cottage. 3 flats. 1 barn. 1 condo. 1 duplex. 1 bungalow and 12 houses.
I have lived in England, Germany and the U.S.A.
I have moved on my own, moved with husbands and no children, moved with husbands and children,moved without husbands and with children.
In pretty much every move, in fact all but once, I have been in control, arranged finances, utilities, removals, hand overs, take overs, references, the whole kit and kaboodle, I have done it all.
So, helpful though it may seem, I do not need to be told or advised on how , when, why or where.
I can work out what room to use for what purpose. I can decide where to put which piece of furniture. I know when and who to call when changing suppliers for telephone, cable, electricity.
I know whether to pack or unpack, I know what to pack and not pack, I know when to move things and when to let other people move them.
I know that the first thing you should always do is make the beds. I know that if the beds are made and clean, there is enough food for dinner and breakfast and the TV is tuned in, we are set to go and everything else will fall into place.
I KNOW ALL THAT. Thankyou.
Phew. That's better.
Everyone is so kind. I know everyone wants to help and I appreciate that but helping is taking the boys out for hours ( thankyou mum and Leah) Helping is donning rubber gloves and scrubbing stinky paintwork ( Thankyou Julie, Nathan, Jake, Amy, Claire, Asi, Melissa)
Telling me how to do stuff, well it makes my brain sort of rebel and we need to be kind to my brain, it is weary and tired and having a tough enough job remembering which house I actually live in right now.
It is working on auto pilot, kicking in and just doing it all on it's own because it is so used to doing all this stuff. When it's given directions ( especially by someone who has maybe moved twice or so) it jibbers and farts and spews out the very thing it was about to tell me to do next. I might forget my name next or, heaven forbid, to put on my trousers before I go to Asda.
This is serious people, don't mess with this brain.
Talk about the weather ( which is glorious at the moment isn't it? I love this sunshine and no rain and the breeze? From heaven itself), tell me about your day, your holiday plans, anything you like but please, please don't tell me what to do or how to do it.
I love to live in my little world where I believe I am clever and strong and HEY! Can you believe how completely brilliant and organised and capable I am?
When I'm not patting unpregnant lady's bellies and congratulating them, I am probably calling the gas company or picking up forms from the 281,726 companies that need to know where I am living this week. I'm getting it done, I promise.
When we leave here on tuesday I will miss the crunchy gravel that makes that divine noise when we walk to the laundry room that I never tired of. I will miss the wilderness and little boys going on adventures and finding frogs.
I will miss sitting here when everyone is in bed, with just a tiny light on and the window in the roof above me open, the night breeze hitting my head and arms.
I will miss the slendiferous smell of new wood as I walk in the front door and I will miss the heavy, solid oak doors even though they chop off little boys' fingers.
I will really, oh really miss the feeling of absolute safety that the massive gates and noisy gravel give me. I have never felt this safe in many, many years.
When we move into the new house I will love living right next to the shops again. I will be in heaven to have the bedrooms upstairs and the living rooms downstairs. I won't miss the sound of Eli's tiny feet that sound as if they have lead boots on and are at least 12 sizes bigger than they really are, stomping across the wood floors above my head just 3 hours after I managed to fall asleep.
In all these moves, I have learned that home is where your heart is, it's what you make of where you live that makes it a good place to be. I am not in love with the new house yet. No matter, I am just hoping that I can feel safe there and that it will feel like home, even if we are going to be there just a short time.
We took over a load of boxes today and some of the front room bits and pieces and it is incredible how just putting a table and lamp in a room can change it's whole spirit.
When I first went into that house I could feel (as well as see) that there had not been any heart in that house for a really long time. No joy, no soul. Being there alone has been frightening for me, I have been on edge and nervous.
As more people came by, and especially after the group of great kids came over and they cleaned and laughed and had water fights, I began to feel the black oppressive feelings lift.
The smell is almost gone. The dirty smell went quickly, as soon as we got rid of the dirt ( funnily enough!) but I have this thing that makes me smell bad spirits. I don't mean ghosts, I mean bad feelings, misery, evil.
One room in particular smells terrible in this house, I gag when I walk into it. No-one else can smell it, it's not actually there, it's just me that can feel it and smell it. Luckily it is the room that we are using for storage and as we have been putting out boxes and pictures etc into it, the smell has been pushed out ( the rather smashing Lavender and chamomile 'plug in' air freshener helps too)
The bedrooms already feel peaceful, the rigs are down and the curtains are up, the boys have put some toys in there and I know that we will be fine sleeping in those rooms.
I am having trouble with the kitchen and the bathroom because they were so hideous and heave worthy that it's hard to believe the germs are dead. I am banking on the thought that once I have cooked something and the shower and bath have been used, I will feel more at ease about them. I am so stuffed if it doesn't happen!! I can't imagine getting away with popping over the road and buying a sandwich and then eating it in the car somehow!
So, 4 more sleeps in the barn. Tomorrow we are taking some time out, enjoying the morning here and then maybe heading over to the new house when it cools down a little, the back garden there is absolutely wonderful in the evening, around 6pm it is cool and shaded, so we thought we would get some work done then.
Seth loves the new house, he is so excited to live there, Isaac says that he is tired of loving and he might just go and get a flat like Jordan and just live there because he doesn't want anymore new houses. Just the same one for ever.... me too my Isaac, me too.