The house we finally let go of in Runaway Bay

Living in Runaway Bay, you get used to council collections that are always months away. We'd been in the house for twenty-two years and raised three kids there. When we decided to downsize, I walked through it with a notepad and gave up by the second bedroom.

There were two lounges, a dining setting for ten, a piano with a cracked soundboard and a garage stacked with paint tins, old bikes and a chest freezer that hadn't worked since the 2011 floods.

Runaway Bay is canal-front homes with pontoons, boat sheds and manicured gardens, and getting things out isn't always simple. We protect pavers and lawns when carrying loads out from behind pool fencing.

When I rang, the person who answered asked a few simple questions about what it was, where it was and how to get to it, and said they could come and look that afternoon.

The crew pulled up, had a look, and told me the price straight away. No surprises, no 'we'll see how it goes'. I said yes and they got started within five minutes.

The piano was the thing I was dreading. It had to come down four steps at the front, and I'd already had one removalist refuse it. The crew had a board and straps and talked it down step by step like it was nothing.

What I appreciated most was that nothing was rushed and nothing was a hassle. They explained where everything was going: charity, recycling or the tip. I felt good about it.

It's a small thing, but having someone else carry it all out made a much bigger difference than I expected.