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What I have learned while moving from a house to a condo less than a mile away:

No matter whether you move across the country or just down the street, it is a royal pain in the ass.

At some point while packing, lifting, or unpacking, you will hurt yourself.

Emergency room nurses are completely unsympathetic to persons who are moving.

None of your friends think your accounts of moving are as interesting as theirs.

When you are old it is easy to forget where you have moved to.

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We're pondering moving from Sussex, in the south east, to Wales, in the west and several hundred miles away. Finding somewhere is hard enough, but viewing it a nightmare - especially with two ancient cats who can't be left on their own for more than a day. And then, when I tell my sister we're going to keep llamas (people happily pay to go for walks with them), not only does she laugh, she tells me 'you're not getting any younger.' As if she needs to remind me.

And now James says I'll hurt myself and forget where I live.

Perhaps staying put is a better bet.

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I'd be glad to abandon the barren California desert for verdant and lovely Wales... but refuse to abandon any of my three cats... two aging and one young.

Damned UK quarantine laws!

I may end up emigrating to Holland and moving in next door to that nice young red-headed Dutch lad who is so good at playing his organ!

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He always has boys with him and have you noticed just how many different types of 'organ' :flasher[1]: he plays with?


He only has one special friend... and as his assistant Jan pulls out 'all his stops' :rolleyes: Ah... to be 19 again!!

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