What a weekend. My dad moved house, 2 doors down on the same road. We went around to help him move - my job was supposed to be to move his dog's kennel and the fencing around his run, but half of the planned help did not arrive so we ended up spending Saturday moving the house contents, hardly any of which had been packed!
By mid afternoon my wife and I seemed to be the only ones around actually doing any work (and my wife is still supposed to be taking it easy after her operation) but by around 6 o'clock the house contents had been moved and things were looking livable.
Sunday was spent doing my Saturday job - dismaltling, moving and rebuilding the kennel (formerly our children's wooden play house) and then fencing in an area around it so that the dog could not take itself walkies when outside.
I have now booked Wednesday as holiday so I can do the final job - moving the birds and their aviary from the old garden to the new one. This was supposed to have been done on Saturday too, but...
Oh, almost forgot the final bit of excitement - he had not informed anyone that he was moving, so we are having to inform the utility companies, banks, doctors, etc, etc for him too.
Last night as I collapsed onto the sofa I told my kids that if I ever tried anything like that they should shoot me. They readily agreed.