Plus I now have no need for fantasising about a new life in a mental dreamhome in an odd location. I now know where my new life will be and I figure I'll just sort out the mental dreamhome when I get there. I'll also need to sort out new schools, a brave new GP, unpack our worldly goods and replace the ones I rashly decided were too huckery to ship all the way there. Once all that is ticked off, I'll get on with the real business of my new life in my new hometown.
Whenever I mention where we are moving to, people respond with "Oh, you'll love it. The beaches! The water sports!". I say "Ummm. Keep going..." Because as anyone who knows me knows, I like my beaches on postcards or viewed from the great indoors, and the mere thought of water sports (OK, any sport) makes me come out in a rash. Given that I have never been within a few thousand kilometres of my new hometown, a bit of research is in order to put my mind at rest that the things I love will also be on offer there.
Firstly I consult a book from my waist-high pile of books selected for de-stashing: This is Australia by Miroslav Sasek. All I discover is that I still love this series of books to bits and so put them back on the bookshelves.
So a quick trundle around Interwebland is required. There I discover that a) given the climate, I can safely sell my huge stash of woollen fabrics and blankets at Stash reHash, b) sadly these days the blokes there don't dress as fancily as the Dad in Mr Sasek's illustration, c) I'll need to tune into the local real estate as the few houses I fancy there are described as bowlable redevelopment opportunities, and d) yes there are fabric shops, libraries, art galleries, markets and op-shops. There is even an op-shop apparently desperate for staff...
Phew! Mandurah, Western Australia, here I come. Well, after I've de-stashed myself of my fabrics, jobs, pets, worldly goods and current dreamhome that is.
