Well, you can see a somewhat exhausted couple of figures here. Moving during Christmas is not the most relaxing of activities - but hey, the photos are from our first night in the house, with hastily thrown-together furniture and a few pictures up. (Always hang pictures first, I say, that's what makes a home from home. Oh, and then the books of course...that's if you have the shelves ready, which we didn't, yet). Not that the whole house is finished. Even now, builders are still working in the attic and downstairs - but the first floor is where we are settling in. My study, at least, now has the required shelves at last, my internet is working again, the rest is kind of functional and still lots and lots of boxes of books and clothes and stuff. Stuff! (that's the hardest to deal with) How the furniture and pics will end up, we'll have yet to see. But it is already beginning to feel like home, and living in this old old house feels a real privilege.
What we seem to have spent most of our time on, though, during this time, was chasing after our male cat. He obviously wasn't happy about the move: over his 3+ years he fought and won a large territory, which his instinct told him to go and attend to no matter what. We knew that would be the case, so we decided to keep both our cats locked in for a week or two - but you should have heard the male cat's howls of derision at having a door closed, and being in a strange place to boot. Especially at night. It was quite unbearable, we felt SO guilty! So we thought, let's open the door to the balcony, at least. Well, he jumped the 12 feet or so, and was gone. He was gone for three days - we kept going up to the previous house, but no sign of him - and it was freezing cold out there- till one day we spotted him and brought him back to his new home. The next night the cat managed to dig an escape tunnel under the door to the garden - the floor there is still just sand and sharp shingle, waiting to be tiled with bricks. And so it went on - day after day he escaped, and day after day we spent hours looking for him - enough if a builder left the door open for a minute, or whatever. But the last few days he suddenly decided that he won't try again. He just stays at home, and doesn't even complain. Eats, plays, sleeps in our bed. So we hope that maybe, just maybe, he has forgiven us. And that eventually he may just decide that this new territory, with the garden and the riverbank, with ducks and plenty of natural cover but no other male cat in sight, will provide enough adventure for the next chapter in his life too.
Needless to say, the little female has taken to the new house with no problems: I let her out every day and she just comes back by herself.
Well. I guess when we are a little more sorted out I will make some proper photos to put up (By the way the pink on the photos is nowhere as pink in reality!). Meanwhile wish us well, please, and let's hope the builders finish soon!