Head Rambles Manor is not a big place.

In fact it is a small cottage with a bit of an extension wot I built around fifty years ago [with a little drop of supervision from my father].

In fact it is about the perfect size.  Each room is just about big enough for its function so there is no wasted space but there is no spare space either.

To this day I'm not sure quite how it happened but over the years we seemed to acquire quite a lot of furniture.  I have a feeling Herself joined one of those websites where people offer their junk, or something, but whatever, we acquired it.

At the last count, I had an armchair, Herself had an armchair.  Penny had two armchairs, two two-seater couches and a three-seater all to herself.  Things were getting a little crowded but Penny was extremely pleased with herself.  She would sleep for a while on one of her many couches and would then stretch herself and move to another.  A life of fucking bliss.  But in the meantime I spent my time squeezing between the various bits of furniture just to get anywhere.

This week I had had enough.  I borrowed a van and removed the three-seater and a two-seater and being extremely civic minded, I left them up at a nice view point up the mountains where weary travelers can rest their bones and enjoy the magnificent view of Lugnaquilla Mountain.

I can now walk around the place with ne'er a shimmy or a swerve.  I can walk in a straight line without having to walk sideways anywhere.  There is so much extra space.

The dog has gone down with a major blast of depression!

Ever since my trip she has been in a bit of a sulk and is hardly sleeping.  For fucks sake she still has her own two armchairs and two two-seaters!  What more does she fucking want?  As I type this she is lying on the floor where one of the couches used to be and is giving me dirty looks.

I can't win!

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Elbow room at last — 8 Comments

  1. Well, now you've done it, pissed off your dog for life. Next thing she'll be doing is weeing a bit in your slippers just to say she did?

    • She might as well.  She has taken over my bed too.  She's lying in her remaining armchair at the moment, looking daggers at me.  The bitch!

  2. I'm currently in the process of moving from a house with about 100 sq m to my apartment in Patras, which is 65 sq m (including the walls, which are 25 cm thick, so in reality probably more like 55 sq m).

    So I'm having to divest myself of loads of stuff so I'll be able to actually get in the place.

    Problem is, a fair bit of it is antique furniture, some of which has been passed down, so I'm having to ship that back to my daughter in UK at great expense (I'd like it to stay in the family), on top of all the other expenses moving involves. And even then, I'm frantically doing drawings to calculate how I can squeeze a quart into a pint pot. Every scrap of space in the new place has to be utilised with 100% efficiency. It's a bloody nightmare. Not to mention the logistics (and expense – again) involved with moving somewhere that is two hours on the ferry and then four and a half hours drive away. Every trip I do with the van costs me €80 for the ferry, €20 each way to cross the bridge at Antirio ( http://daphne-new.aegean.gr/wiki/index.php/Case_Studies:_Rio-Antirio_Bridge,_Greece ) plus about €60 diesel for the round trip.

    I've been dumping stuff in the bottom apartment that I'm doing up, and praying that when the time comes it all fits in upstairs where I'll be living. If not, I foresee a few trips to the local tip in Patras…

    • You could always leave it in the apartment downstairs?  It will save me having to bring furniture when I move in.

      Or else have a massive bonfire and then send the insurance cheque to your daughter?

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