Ya' know, I had no trouble moving house when I was droving or working on stations, it was only when I set down roots that I started to gather encumberances around me, like a wife and kids and all the garbage that goes with that combination.
When I was droving I moved house every night. I woke up, rolled the swag, the cook loaded it on the truck with the other blokes' swags and that night you were in a new 'home'. Now that is simple, hey?
Even working in the shearing sheds, your 'house' consisted of a room in some quarters somewhere on the Outback plains, and your possessions were the swag and a few bits of tattered clothing. Never a spare pair of boots or an extra hat, as they were extras, as mentioned.
So now that I have moved house, using a moving truck would you beleive, and I am without the burden of the encumbent wife, and even if I weren't, the kids would not be around when the move took place in case they were designated to help.
I am now a massive four mile from where I was before; a bit like droving, I suppose. Sheep do not move that fast if you let 'em rest up.
One thing that I am happy about - I am just as close to you people that I talk to, and that is great. I am still pushed around by the delightful publisher of mine, the sweet Fiona Gatt. If you think I am only crawling, I won't argue wiff' ya.