Holly Honeychurch

Holly Honeychurch

Housesitting is a wonderful lifestyle choice. I love it in nearly all ways. The travel, the exploration, the discovery, the change, new houses, new design ideas, meeting new cats. Almost everything is positive and exciting. The area I struggle with most is the physical act of packing up all our stuff, putting said stuff in the car - a moderately sized car - making it fit, making things that could get squashed not get squashed and doing all this to a time scale.

I’ve realised I can get stressed with my companion during this period. For no other reason than that I feel under pressure. A pressure I give to myself. He’s a meticulous packer. He looks after his things. Everything always looks new. He’s thoughtful and considered and cares about his belongings. I’m more of a ‘push it in until no more will fit’ kind of gal. Sometimes I feel like ramming things, though I only think about ramming in my head. I’ve learnt from experience that one does not ram.

I don’t fully consider things like he does - ie - the consequences. I like to just get on and get going. I start off well and orderly, then finish off with a general stuffing technique. This can result in a squished box or a scuffed shoe. Sometimes I pack a few things, then he unpacks them because he’s found something that’s being squished and damaged. Even though I know he’s right and it’s the sensible thing to do, the idea of taking things out of the car when they’re already in there freaks me out. And I get annoyed. On the inside. It feels like we haven’t got time. Even though we have, usually.

So I want to make it easier. I want to be more organised. I want to have the right tools. So nothing gets squished and everything slots into place. I want to have such an incredibly organised car that people admire our packing tools and capabilities. Gone will be the shoes in plastic bags, randomly slotted in all over the car. Say hello to our new plastic shoe box all neat and tidy and in its place. Goodbye massive plastic bag full of heavy condiment bottles (how many soy sauces do I actually need? Definitely not four), hello lovely new plastic food box, easily stacked, slotting in nicely. This is the way forward. Boxes that slot. I’m truly excited. By the end of our York house-sit I will be The Box Queen. If only my 20 year old self could see me now. I used to be The Bag Lady in university so I’d say things were improving immensely.