“Oh my god, I LOVE moving house!” Said no-one ever.
In the (almost) nine years Jay and I have been married we have moved eleven times.
Eleven times sorting through books, CDs, DVDs, clothes, cutlery, pictures, paperwork.
Eleven times asking friends and family and a man-with-a-van to pack their cars full of photo albums, vacuum cleaners and bags of ribbons (?!) and move us across the city.
Eleven times living amongst unpacked boxes, suitcases and furniture dumped in the middle of the room.
Eleven times feeling that sweet, sweet relief of having everything in its place, sitting down to a takeaway from your new local Chinese and sipping on a glass of wine to try to relax.
When we moved into our current residence in Howth three years ago, we knew that the landlord was intending to sell the house one day and now that day has come…
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