When preparing for this move, I spent a lot of time thinking about what to bring with me. I did some internet research, fascinated by other peoples’ decisions to bring the items they did, and whether or not with a bit of hindsight they’d brought the right things. A general rule of thumb I read over and over: “if it’s light, unique, unbreakable and useful – pack it”.

I spoke with the airline, who helped me take full advantage of their baggage polices. Something I discovered this summer – people are fascinated by international moves, and will often do anything they can to help. It’s probably why I know so many people addicted to House Hunters International!

Clothing was a no-brainer. I’ve worked hard to develop a good capsule wardrobe, so every piece that fits perfectly, gets compliments and has stood the test of time (and laundry) came with me. Especially important as clothing in England can be quite expensive; many times I’ve seen a piece cost the same amount in pounds as it would in dollars.

From there I had a little room in my suitcases to pack a few small things, as well as mail myself a box of favourite, unbreakable kitchen stuff.

Just for a lark, I thought I’d share what made the cut – keep an eye out for posts in this series.

My Dad’s binoculars

While I love looking at family photographs, there’s no way I would have been able to justify bringing all of them and during the whirlwind of packing I never did get around to scanning any of the older ones. And sometimes objects can evoke an emotional response far greater than a photograph. My late father’s binoculars do that for me. I have to be clear, these aren’t actually his binoculars, but ones I picked up in an antique store several years ago, partly because the moment I saw them I burst into tears as memories overwhelmed me. When they weren’t sitting on the ledge of the picture window in our sunroom, they were pressed into service on camping trips and tramps through my grandfather’s farmland and rarely not hanging around his neck at those times.

I think my dad would have been thrilled that I’m having this adventure – I can almost hear him say “Good for you, Heather, good for you!”

Coincidentally, the thrift shop down the street has a very similar pair for sale right now. What were the odds?