I distinctly remember the time, sitting amongst piles of boxes deep into the late hour of the night swearing that I would never, ever, ever move again.

It’s folly to think that you can stay in one place and not move a few times in your life.

Now eight years later I find myself putting all my possessions in boxes, taping them up and swearing again never to do this again.

Before moving I made a huge effort to sort through my stuff and get rid of anything and everything that I no longer need. Mixed results with Craig’s List has made a pretty big pile that is sitting waiting for a trip to goodwill or community warehouse. Somewhere, anywhere just not here. But as I continue to pack all these boxes I’m struck with the amazing amount of crap I still have.

It’s an education in you when you move. What things you’ve amassed over the years, how your tastes have changed and what things you still cling on to. For me it’s like going back to a school I was happy to leave.

We’ve been looking at houses for months, so the whole process of moving seems almost endless.

The brutal thing… I still have 2 more weeks of packing and sorting before we actually move.