No point buying a new roll of gladwrap....

......Sapphire can make-do with lunch being covered in alfoil and popped into a brown paper bag. In fact, we've only bought four bog rolls to last us the week and that's a big move for me, a seige-mentality shopper-and-storer if ever there was one.*

With chests of drawers already sold, clothes are now in green bags on the floor. The outfits we're taking to Switzerland are already chosen and are not to be touched until we're jetlagged and staggering around in a new hemisphere. The 'wear nows' are sorted according to social acceptability versus merely house cleaning, and unworn and nearly-news have been donated to the Salvos.

Garage sale day dawned on Saturday inasmuch as 'dawned' meant black clouds, freezing sleet and wind that blew our umbrellas away. Signs pointing to our place gradually turned to paper mache, as did the blackboard with 'INSIDE' hastily scrawled on it.

Still, 'INSIDE' a few brave souls did venture and most got more than they bargained for.

"Andrew if your wife says you can't take the wheelbarrow because it's roughly two-thirds the size of your courtyard then at least take this miniature dolls' house to go with the scooter. She'll love it!"

"Jon, it's good to see that the fishing rods will go to someone who'll appreciate them. And nothing says 'we caught a gourmet dinner' like an oversized granite mortar and pestle that you'll need LC and that burly couple lurking near the crockery over there to help drag over the doorstep."

"Lynne, I see you cacking away at our truly daggy CD collection but I'll have you know that we've not opened one case since we moved here and it's all itunes for us these days, baby. Let your boyfriend enjoy these modern antiques and I'll get the oil heater into the car if you lean back - yes, over the exercise bike and the pedestal fans - and grab the leaf blower as an accompaniment....."

"Yep, take 'em all for $5. Actually have this hammock as well - are you sure you don't want it? Fair enough, we didn't have two trees big enough either. Hmmm, I can't let you leave the house with just five books; might as well carry the wicker hamper and parmesan cheese grater home too, hey?"

After the last of the browsers had departed and our fingers had thawed, all big items left over were put up on ebay for 99 cents apiece. No thoughts of financial gain anymore, just the blind hope that someone will pick them up and take them away. Our house now has distinctly geometric patterns of dust on the floor where items used to be and with each new empty space comes a tiny speck more of inner excitement.

Love Chunks and I lunched in Puckle Street today and headed over to the lawyer's for a final tying up of necessary knots. We both looked like two unemployed bogans wandering idly in Moonee Ponds in mismatched clothing when workers were busy pushing past us. "Can you believe it," I whispered, gesturing to our leave-in-the-bin-when-we-leave clothes, "that we - yes, us - are moving to Europe?"

No way anyone in the street would have guessed it.

* When a tin or two of chopped tomatoes is taken out of the pantry, there must be at least two waiting behind them. Always. Same goes for toilet paper, gladwrap, tubes of toothpaste and blocks of cheese.