Moving

No... not us. My parents. They are moving out of the big four bedroom house that they built 12 years ago, into a three bedroom house with no garden at a ritzy golf club estate. Moving up in the world. How happy is my golfer dad?!

We've spent the last few weeks getting all our crap out of the house - old school stuff, uni notes, wedding dress (really must get the wine stain out of that one!). And have inherited some new stuff - an extra freezer, some tools, a cot (*sigh*). It's a little sad to be saying goodbye to the house, but I'm happy for them to be moving somewhere where they can have more of a social life, not worry about the garden, do something different.

My mum is sounding stressed. She's like me (or I'm like her). We don't do change very well. So, I'll head over there this arvo and try to lighten things up. Take my camera and get some pics of the house where I spent my teen years. The house I first brought Rog to to meet the parents. Where I studied for my degree. The house I prepared for my wedding in.

Will post some pics later on...