We moved in on Tuesday.
Five words summarises the whole thing, but as always the story was a bit more complicated than that.
You should know is that during the first official days of spring we were inundated with a full winter's worth of snow. The flakes started to descend on us on Monday evening, as we finalised the packing, then intensified during the night. By Tuesday morning, there was a respectable blanket covering most of Switzerland.
Still, could have been worse. Oh hang on, it was worse. Because our old house is at a far lower alititude than the new one, (by about 300 metres, or a thousand feet), so if it was inconvenient at one end, it was going to be a bloody nightmare at the other. Lots of worried glances out of the window on Monday night and Tuesday morning. Lots of mental plans to defer the move a day or so, or to at least figure out where I could steal a snowplough. Or a husky.
Only... it seemed to go alright.
The chaps turned up about an hour late ("Snow chaos across Kanton Zurich"); filled their wagons in more or less the time they said they would; drove over to the new house; unloaded and were away before yer could say Bob's yer uncle.
By Tuesday evening the house still looked a bloody mess, boxes and unbuilt furniture everywhere, but at least our bedroom was intact enough to sleep in. Kids remained with Claudia's parents.
As we're a tad short on the curtain front, that night we had an open view from our bed out of our bedroom window (floor to ceiling, if you recall) right across the rolling farmlands. Fluffy snow lay everywhere, and the weather cleared enough so that the visibility was crystal. The few farm houses out there were still lit up, presumably as them Swiss country folks were still feeding their goats or something. Each light gave a glow to the surrounding snow. Little pools of light.