Moving day musings…

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You would think after 12 years of being an army wife I would have this moving thing down right? Erm, nope! I am wandering from room to room muttering under my breath about dummies and Top Gear. I have found myself following some very, shall we say, odd chains of thought.

Here, have a peek into the mind of an army wife who has received her posting order, been given three weeks to move and had her husband sent away on a course for two of those weeks (perfectly normal occurrence in this life by the way) …

Do I pack the bedrooms or the living room up first? (Well, we had to begin somewhat sensibly.)

Why do we have so many champagne flutes? Seriously, we have like 7 sets! And much as I might like to consume that much champagne, I really don’t- at least not every day.

Why can people in soap operas move to a new city or country and fit all their worldly belongings in the back of a black cab?

 

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I know for a fact that there are several “missing” dummies belonging to all three Dandelions in here somewhere. So why, while I have been packing haven’t I found one single dummy?

Do we have a dummy monster hiding in the back of a wardrobe somewhere?

Do we have a dummy abyss? Maybe behind the toilet?

Have all the dummies fallen through a time vortex into another realm?

Has Doctor Who been in and taken all the dummies?

Are dummies actually evil aliens trying to take over the universe?

Why am I obsessing about dummies?

And why didn’t The Doctor take me with him?

And where did he put the TARDIS?

 

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Oooh, where would we go? Cue an afternoon of fantasizing about the kind of planets that could exist and the adventures I could have as a companion, but that’s another post.

Am I losing the plot?

Who would have thought I could build such a fantastic cardboard box wall? Seriously, Jeremy Clarkson and Co would love to drive very fast vehicles at my cardboard box wall. In fact, in true Top Gear fashion, I may throw a caravan at it before tying it precariously to the top of a three wheeled van (purchased from Ebay) and drive to India.

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So, to conclude, it is seriously damaging to your mental well being to marry a soldier and move house every three years!

 

 

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