There’s been no time to be nostalgic or philosophical as I’ve packed up our life into brown boxes, sealed with brown tape. I’ve been on a ruthless, task-oriented packing spree for the past two weeks. I’ve had to be because fitting a household, even our small one, into a 111×96×187cm MoveCube takes some serious decision-making, careful measuring, and insane Tetris skills. And so nostalgia and philosophy, usually just lurking behind the corner waiting to pounce on me, were banished to the next room, locked away until all my boxes were taped up.

Until, ironically, I stood at Cash Converters last week, getting rid of a couple of more meaningless things. While I stood there and waited – and wait I did – I suddenly had a moment to think. And so, in that utterly unromantic, parking-lot-facing space, I started to write…

I’ve sealed into boxes pans and plates and spoons carrying memories of meals shared. I’ve packed books full of stories to reread and rexperience. I’ve packed my vacuum cleaner that has worked hard cleaning our flat of dust and cat hair, reminding me that our little home was well-loved. I’ve sealed up boxes of cards and notes from students, from friends, and those Stephen and I have sent each other. I’ve packed, very carefully, a picture Ruben drew for me of my favourite place in the world, the koppie on Elandsberg. One day, this picture will hang in our new home, and we will long for koppie evenings. I’ve packed knicknacks that have no value to anyone but me because they stood on a shelf in my grandparents’ Greytown home.  I’ve packed the blanket, which Oma Mutti injured her shoulder knitting for me because winters in England are not like winters here, and I know I’ll need the extra comfort. I’ve packed my toolbox. Papa put it together for me a few Christmases ago, and I know that I will need the screwdriver or measuring tape as I set up our new home. I’ve packed a pair of picnic quilts that Tante Zelda so lovingly made for our wedding day, but which we couldn’t use because the ground was drenched. One day, they will grace our guestroom beds. I’ve packed the sewing machine Mama bought me for my 21st birthday, and which I’ve used too little, in the hope that I will sew cushions for the patio that we will sit on and enjoy long, lazy summer days…

Today, as I sealed up my final boxes, I returned to what I wrote the other day in Cash Converters, and I had to think of ‘My Favourite Things’ from The Sound of Music. In it, Julie Andrews/ Maria sings of her many favourite things, including “brown paper packages tied up with string.” While my brown boxes tied up with brown packaging tape seem a little more prosaic than those from the song, I think of how they are also some of my favourite things – and not only because they allowed me to play lifesize Tetris. These boxes are my favourite things because in them I’ve packed up heirlooms and gifts and items filled with memories and love and stories. It won’t just be the physical objects we will carry into our new home. It will be these intangible things, too.

Just imagine our joy when we open up our brown paper packages in a couple of months!

5 October 2025