Moving Stories

We spent this past weekend moving Mouse from one flat in Stirling to another flat in Stirling via many flights of narrow twisty stairs full of other parents and other students carrying boxes and bags and rolled up quilts. Everyone in Stirling moves on the last day in unicornMay apparently. Luckily for us, Mouse was moving from a top floor flat to a first floor one – it could have been worse. His new place is pretty acceptable for a student flat – gone are the days when you could get away with unheated, grubby and slightly grotty flats with broken furniture. My first rented flat had a bed where one of the legs had been replaced with a biscuit tin, it certainly woke you up with a jump when the tin collapsed – which it did fairly frequently. I remember that one of my flat mates suggested that we replaced the biscuit tin with books and I was absolutely horrified that anyone thought that was acceptable. I kept the biscuit tin…

Mouse’s flat is not only superior, it is also quite firmly in the old bit of Stirling, being within waving distance of the castle and the tollbooth, and at the top of a very kelpiesteep narrow, cobbled street (with an incorrect name). It all seems far too good for a student flat. I’m willing to bet that there aren’t many students, Philosophy or otherwise, who can honestly say that they have a mediaeval stone unicorn-on-a-plinth right outside their front door!

We were going to go for a walk (from Sheriff Muir over Dumyat and back) when we’d finished moving him, but it took too long – he’s got rather more stuff than he had this time last year – so there’s no kilometerage this week, although we did manage a pleasant stroll around the Kelpies on the way home.

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2 Responses to Moving Stories

  1. muminamerc says:

    You are very good parents to be helping with the flat moves. I only remember schlepping things in Halls of Residence to their ‘storage rooms’ on the off chance they rented our crappy rooms out for conferences. There were the ‘rich English ones’ who had cars and drove all their stuff back from St. Andrews to mummy and daddy in the Home Counties. Oh how I feel old.
    When I help at the library, if ever someone checks out a really heavy book (‘The Goldfinch’ in large print springs to mind) – I joke they can also use it to prop open a door or as a spare bed leg (as you used the biscuit tin) and they look very baffled. But I knew what you meant!!

    • To be honest it’s not a chore having a day out in Stirling! The normal method of moving there is to steal a shopping trolley, on the last day of May there are hundreds of students wheeling shopping trolleys up and down cobbled streets – it’s hilarious.

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