Moving to Morocco

 Life, such as it is, seems to be happening around me. While I've been sorting, minimising & packing I've had a lot of outside influences to factor into my choices of what to take with me, what things need me to find another place to store them here & what to let go of completely.

It's almost 6 weeks since I first started on this post at the beginning of March & I still find the title apt for the way I have come to think of things. 

It would be far easier if I were moving to Morocco - or anywhere in the world where the culture was significantly different to here. For my purposes I'm saying Morocco because I have wanted to go there ever since I can remember....along with pretty much everywhere else in North Africa.

As I have sifted through 'stuff', with vague recollections wanting to be an archaeologist at some point in my childhood, I've realised the decision making on pretty much every level would be a lot easier if I were moving somewhere that wasn't quite so 'westernised'. It's difficult not to make comparisons between New Zealand & Australia as our cultures & lifestyles are very similar. 

We have homes & we fill them with stuff. A lot of that stuff is electronics & appliances. So while I'm making decisions I can rationalise taking "such & such" as I have a whole container to fill & if I leave it I will just have to replace it on the other side of the ditch which will end up costing me more than the space that it takes in the container.

Now if I were going to Morocco to live,  a whole heap of that very same stuff would be superfluous.Even if it wasn't & could be used there, I know in my heart that I wouldn't want to take it as I'd rather immerse myself in their culture & do things in the way of their culture.

Perhaps I'd ship over my torches & a bit of glass, some metalworking tools & such - but that would be about it.

Me, a backpack, a few items of clothing (because it'd be wrong to travel naked & could cause a whole heap of hold ups - not to mention mass exodus at airports & traumatized passengers), a laptop & my camera.

 Dammit - I wish I was going to Morocco!

Keeper Of The Memories

I do not hoard!! I accumulate stuff! OK, so sometimes I find that stuff hard to get rid of...just in case I might want to use it again/ fit back into it/ need it/re-appropriate it for some other use. But I do not hoard.

It became obvious when I got my first quote to ship my 'stuff' across the ditch to Australia that quite a bit was going to have to go. I'd already decided that the beds, my big ass lounge suite, the freezer, washing machine & one lot of bookshelves weren't going with me. Some other large items were optional &, fortunately, quite a bit of what I definitely wanted to take can be flat packed.

I was given two options for shipping; the first involves shipping the, lot minus the items I'd stated weren't going, in shared containers. It turns out that I have 39 cubic meters of 'stuff'. Yikes!!

Option 2 was to have a 20 ' container to myself. Now a 20'ft container technically  holds 32 cubic meters.... if you were to fill it with water that's how much it would hold anyway. With wrapped furniture & boxes it's realistically something like 28-29 cubic meters.

Even I know that 39 cubic meters isn't going to reduce to 29 without some really serious minimising. Looks like some of those 'optionals' will be staying in Kiwiland...& then some.

But it's the small stuff that is holding me up. There are 8 boxes full of 'small stuff'.Things I rarely look at, but are there & I know they are there. It's easy for some to carelessly say get rid of what you don't need.

That sort of blasé comment will usually come from someone that hasn't created their family memories yet...or doesn't have a family ( or any interest in art or crafts - but that's a whole different story!! lol!)

Turns out I've saved everything from small beaded felt Christmas decorations I made 33 years ago when I was a young single Mother & too darn poor to buy anything, but determined to give my toddler some 'pretty' for his second Christmas - through to the all of the kids first artworks, birth cards, albums, inscribed books, a few special baby clothes & once much loved, but now outgrown, soft toys..... & on the list grows. We haven't even got to their early school books yet.....

Then there is Dad's 'stuff' - a beautiful hand tailored sailor top purchased at Ballantynes when he was little... probably around 1932, his wonderful old tobacco jar & scree's of other bits & pieces of his that Mum gave to me.

I'd already started sorting & getting rid of the more obvious months back, thinking that I best start sorting things out earlier rather than leaving it closer to the anticipated time of departure.A lot of Dad's things I've given to my boys, really just keeping the two things I mentioned above for myself. Dad was more like a father to those two & a huge influence in their lives. I know they'll look after those bits & pieces.

As to the rest it's really a matter of trust. I thought about giving the kids their stuff, but the time just isn't right.Things that were theirs when they were younger wont have so much meaning until they have children of their own. This I know from experience as I well recall regretting, much later, giving away all the things I deemed babyish or such as a teenager or even later as an adult.

I also recall the feigned disgust & the inner warm fuzzies whenever Mum would whip out one of my early notebooks filled with a 7 year olds first attempts at writing poems or fantastical stories, to show one of my kids.

It's those things that the kids have done that I'm finding hardest to even go through - let alone think of parting with, or entrusting to their creators. Not only do I smile at some of the things that were written, or marvel at the vivid imaginations of the very young,  I'm also transported back in time & memories are evoked of things that I had forgotten. I know when I show a special letter or card written by a 5 year old to their Mum to them as teens & adults that they have forgotten too.

No, I don't hoard stuff - 

I am keeper of the memories.

Last Day of Summer

As I sit here ruminating over the fact that it's the last hour of the last day of February - I also suddenly realise that it's officially the last day of Summer for us down here in the Southern Hemisphere.

I feel cheated!!! What the heck has happened to this last month. It certainly hasn't been very summery - in fact most of our Summer hasn't been very summery at all. I also realise that I'm now running about two weeks behind on my "moving plan". Yes, shocking I know, I actually had a plan.

It was quite simple really - nothing to radical or structured.

Plan A went something like this;

January:

• Get quotes for International move & discover what sort of cost we are up for.
• Decide what I can live without & what needs replacing anyway
• Find out cubic meterage from quotes & figure what to sell off/get rid of.

February:

• Assemble cartons & packing gear
• Start sorting through 33 years of photos, keepsakes & memorabilia  stuff'
• Clean items that have been stored ready for listing.
• Photograph & List what is being sold on local auction site
• Sort kitchen, pack crockery, cutlery & pans that are going with us, leaving the stuff I am giving away to use until we leave. Ditto with small appliances.
• Start on prepack of belongings that aren't needed in the interim

March:

• Torch - play with glass & fire
• Paint
• Beat up Metal
• Torch More
• Paint more - may as well take some those canvases over the ditch with something on them & use some of my paints up in the process.
• Beat Up metal more
• Torch even more

April

• Pack Studio
• Tidy Garden
• Clean House

It was also a little selfish in a way. I wanted to allow myself March to get some serious torching in before packing up my studio for goodness knows how long & to complete some other projects that have been floating around in my head for goodness knows how long.

There wasn't a "Plan B" &, as you will no doubt notice, "Plan A" didn't involve stuffing up of a rotator cuff, bursitis, the discovery of calcium deposits, surgical procedures or cortisone injections. Ten days completely out of action - & now I'm forced to behave because it still hurts to reach too far or lift heavy stuff (truth be told it hurts to lift even light stuff) among a whole heap of other things. But at least I can type again without almost crying at every movement....& lift up my camera :)

I'm not so sure I'm going to get any melting of glass in, I definitely wont be pounding metal & I'm mightily bummed about both of those things. Maybe I'll be able to paint a little - my big easel is fully adjustable in all respects & angles.

Meanwhile a certain someone seems to feel that he is is more than ready to go at any time....

Nestled among the packed cartons in the garage indeed! Why isn't he packing, or lifting heavy schit.....

Plans, Schemes and Lightbulbs

Packing to move. Bah humbug!!

Determined not to become overwhelmed I had a plan....& "sub plans"

I have more or less followed to them too. I can't believe how calm & organized I have been.
I started with the miniature shoe collection - all 250+ of them. Each has it's own wee shoe box, but as the last move taught me the easy part is packing them down. The hard part is unpacking them & remembering where in the display they looked the best, when I get to the other end.

I was thinking about this as I packed the first few away, having started with my favourites; the western/cowboy boots.

Then I had a brain wave.
Well actually it was a rather obvious solution that I had simply never thought of before.
Photograph them, in situ.

The first few we hurriedly put back into the display cabinet, & I photographed each shelf.
Ahhh the joys of modern technology!





A day later & I had this ....& 6 others like it!

All Things Bright

I haven't forgotten Haiti, not in the slightest. I've still been making the hearts but have eased the pressure on myself a little by placing them in the display at the Cafe, instead of taking the time to photograph & list, while I am packing for this move.

They are selling quite well there too :)

This pink one was a custom order.



This orange one was 'because I can'.




Both are sold.

The Last Day of Summer

28th February 2010, officially the last day of Summer here in New Zealand. Autumn starts tomorrow & I feel as if we haven't even really had a summer yet....unless you count the six truly stunning days, with temperatures in the 27-30º.
Three of these days have been this past week, & I definitely feel extremely cheated that I haven't really been out in them to enjoy them to maximum effect.


The times that I have wandered along the road to get a coffee from Ris'tretto have been wonderful though. Bitter sweet in many ways. From the cacophony of the cicadas in the tree's under a bright blue sky, surrounded by the lush green park through to the feeling of the sun upon my face & back - I am going to savour each & every walk I make up to the cafe. I'm imprinting them in my memory. Why?

Because we are moving!

I was going to make a big announcement about this last week along with photos of the new place, but in my eagerness to be get packed & be well organized for this move I let it go a couple of days too long & the photo's of the new place had been removed from the web. Bugger!

The house we are moving to is a place that I was dead keen on looking through exactly 1 year ago. We didn't get to look through it, we missed out on it & I was gutted. In the meantime I have compared everything else against it, which is rather rather odd considering I never saw inside it.

I discovered that it had come available again three weekends ago & was onto the letting agent as soon as their office open again. We had a look through it within 48 hours & I fell in love....along with the other families that went through at the same time. We put our application in & I held my breath for 3 days.

I didn't realise just how deeply I wanted this place until I got the phone call saying that we had got it over the 5 other families that had put in applications, & I promptly burst into tears. I had been too scared to believe that we had a chance.

I've observed something interesting about myself too. The difference between now & the last time we moved just over two years ago. Then, I was overwhelmed & stressed. I couldn't think where to start the packing & wanted a whole heap of help & support.
This time I am the complete opposite. I have lists & a plan, I'm quite happy to pack everything alone & work through those lists. My support comes in the form of not having to worry about the cleaning afterwards.

This either means that when we moved here I had reservations about whether this house was the right move for us, or that I cant wait to get out of here!
I suspect that both are the case ;)

I won't miss a single thing about this house, the closeness of it's fences & the neighbouring houses that block the summer sunlight & most of all the completely inconsiderate, ignorant, rude & noisy neighbours.


For this sense of utter relief & in anticipation of a new start I will happily sacrifice a few summer days, even if they are absolute stunners!
I am truly blessed.

Guess that I had better start packing these....