"Squirrelling Down"

When I introduced the fact of my moving house here, just eight weeks ago, I didn't use the expression that forms my title this week.  Where that phrase comes from, I couldn't say, but it's one that I've often used to myself to describe the process I described there.  Four weeks after the drama of moving in, I can now vouch for the truth of its taking place once more.

I don't imagine I'm unique in this; I expect it's true of all people as they move house, and perhaps more so if they are moving to a new location, as opposed to another dwelling in the same street or area of the same town.  It's not something I've discussed with others, so I just don't know.  

If this process all seems a bit bizarre, I'll try to describe what it means in my daily behaviour.  I'm aware of it happening at a number of levels, and I recognise that it's not complete yet.  Firstly it happened within the house itself; then, came the garden - or courtyard, as I sometimes think of it - and then it applies to the town, and finally to a much broader area.  And my settling in hasn't happened level by level, as might be the case in some great battlefield strategy.  All four levels are developing at the same time.

One of the earliest problems I had to confront I will describe as rubbish, in a generic sense.  Although the house had been cleaned, there were certain areas that I was loath to go into.  In some cases it was actual dirty possessions that had been left by the previous occupant, in a cupboard and in the cellar.  In others it was simply a feeling of surfaces being unclean until I had been over them with an appropriate cleanser.  The physical rubbish was kindly removed by someone working for the agent, along with lots of clutter left in the courtyard, which was itself covered with unwelcome growth, up to four feet high in places!  All four refuse bins were stuffed full, too!

The house itself was 'conquered' in the first few days, with particular use being made of mop and vacuum cleaner, although it was well into the second week before one or two places had been finally cleaned up and occupied by the belongings as I unpacked them and disposed of the many boxes in which they had arrived.

Alongside this I had begun to explore my surroundings.  I had established the layout of the town from Google before the move, but that's not the same as finding it 'in the flesh'.  For example, one charity shop has moved since the picture on Google was taken, but it wasn't until I'd been to it in its new location and was then looking for what I thought was another shop where I'd remembered seeing it on the virtual image, that I realised that they were in fact part of the same charity, and one had simply replaced the other, which is now empty.

Further afield, I made my first exploration of the larger towns nearby as I travelled to my chosen place of worship in Doncaster, and the next weekend found me at a pre-season friendly football match some six miles from home in South Elmsall.  During the following week I made my first use of the local bus services, first to Doncaster, and then in the opposite direction to Barnsley.

After an early attack on the large bush that had managed to virtually cover the small street-side frontage of the house, I later followed up with the smaller weeds that still limited my use of the courtyard.  In particular I cleared those that were growing beneath the drying line.  I have since expanded my efforts to the rest of what was once a garden, disposed of a useless and overgrown window box and begun planning the redistribution of paving slabs and granite chips over the next few months, inspired by a very neat and welcoming example beyond the neighbour's fence.

In the kitchen, further cleansing, stage by stage, revealed an encrusted grill-pan hidden beneath the cooker, and I'm slowly getting to grips with cooking by gas, instead of the electricity I've been used to.  However, I've still not ventured into using the electric oven, which must be at least twice the size of the one I had in my flat!

This afternoon two more boundaries will be crossed as I travel five stops down the railway to Sheffield.  Here, weather permitting I shall walk across the city centre to attend a commemoration in the cause of world peace, marking the anniversary of the atomic bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the end of the Second World War.