Skip to content

moving

🏡 Spreadsheets, Photos, and the Art of Moving Out

When you move out of a cohousing, you don’t just pack your boxes — you pack your shared life.
And in our case, that meant making an inventory of everything that lived in the house at Van Ooteghem:
Who takes what, what gets sold, and what’s destined for the containerpark.

To keep things organised (and avoid the classic “wait, whose toaster was that again?” discussion), we split the task — each person took care of one room.
I was assigned to the living room.

I made photos of every item, uploaded them to our shared Dropbox folder, and listed them neatly in a Google spreadsheet:
one column for the Dropbox URL, another for the photo itself using the IMAGE() function, like this:

=IMAGE(A2)

📸 When Dropbox meets Google Sheets

Of course, it didn’t work immediately — because Dropbox links don’t point directly to the image.
They point to a webpage that shows a preview. Google Sheets looked at that and shrugged.

A typical Dropbox link looks like this:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/abcd1234efgh5678/photo.jpg?dl=0

So I used a small trick: in my IMAGE() formula, I replaced ?dl=0 with ?raw=1, forcing Dropbox to serve the actual image file.

=IMAGE(SUBSTITUTE(A2, "?dl=0", "?raw=1"))

And suddenly, there they were — tidy little thumbnails, each safely contained within its cell.


🧩 Making it fit just right

You can fine-tune how your image appears using the optional second argument of the IMAGE() function:

=IMAGE("https://example.com/image.jpg", mode)

Where:

  • 1fit to cell (default)
  • 2stretch (fill the entire cell, may distort)
  • 3keep original size
  • 4custom size, e.g. =IMAGE("https://example.com/image.jpg", 4, 50, 50) (sets width and height in pixels)

💡 Resize the row or column if needed to make it look right.

That flexibility means you can keep your spreadsheet clean and consistent — even if your photos come in all sorts of shapes and sizes.


🧍‍♀️ The others tried it too…

My housemates loved the idea and started adding their own photos to the spreadsheet.
Except… they just pasted them in.
It looked great at first — until someone resized a row.
Then the layout turned into an abstract art project, with floating chairs and migrating coffee machines.

The moral of the story: IMAGE() behaves like cell content, while pasted images are wild creatures that roam free across your grid.


🧮 Bonus: The Excel version

If you’re more of an Excel person, there’s good news.
Recent versions of Excel 365 also support the IMAGE() function — almost identical to Google Sheets:

=IMAGE("https://www.dropbox.com/s/abcd1234efgh5678/photo.jpg?raw=1", "Fit")

If you’re still using an older version, you’ll need to insert pictures manually and set them to Move and size with cells.
Not quite as elegant, but it gets the job done.


🧹 Organised chaos, visual edition

So that’s how our farewell to Van Ooteghem turned into a tech experiment:
a spreadsheet full of URLs, formulas, furniture, and shared memories.

It’s oddly satisfying to scroll through — half practical inventory, half digital scrapbook.
Because even when you’re dismantling a home, there’s still beauty in a good system.

Phew, We Actually Moved! 🎉

After days of boxes, labels, and that one mysterious piece of furniture that no one remembers what it belongs to, we can finally say it: we’ve moved! And yes, mostly without casualties (except for a few missing screws).

The most nerve-wracking moment? Without a doubt, moving the piano. It got more attention than any other piece of furniture — and rightfully so. With a mix of brute strength, precision, and a few prayers to the gods of gravity, it’s now proudly standing in the living room.

We’ve also been officially added to the street WhatsApp group — the digital equivalent of the village well, but with emojis. It feels good to get those first friendly waves and “welcome to the neighborhood!” messages.

The house itself is slowly coming together. My IKEA PAX wardrobe is fully assembled, but the BRIMNES bed still exists mostly in theory. For now, I’m camping in style — mattress on the floor. My goal is to build one piece of furniture per day, though that might be slightly ambitious. Help is always welcome — not so much for heavy lifting, but for some body doubling and co-regulation. Just someone to sit nearby, hold a plank, and occasionally say “you’re doing great!”

There are still plenty of (banana) boxes left to unpack, but that’s part of the process. My personal mission: downsizing. Especially the books. But they won’t just be dumped at a thrift store — books are friends, and friends deserve a loving new home. 📚💚

Technically, things are running quite smoothly already: we’ve got fiber internet from Mobile Vikings, and I set up some Wi-Fi extenders and powerline adapters. Tomorrow, the electrician’s coming to service the air-conditioning units — and while he’s here, I’ll ask him to attach RJ45 connectors to the loose UTP cables that end in the fuse box. That means wired internet soon too — because nothing says “settled adult” like a stable ping.

And then there’s the garden. 🌿 Not just a tiny patch of green, but a real garden with ancient fruit trees and even a fig tree! We had a garden at the previous house too, but this one definitely feels like the deluxe upgrade. Every day I discover something new that grows, blossoms, or sneakily stings.

Ideas for cozy gatherings are already brewing. One of the first plans: living room concerts — small, warm afternoons or evenings filled with music, tea (one of us has British roots, so yes: milk included, coffee machine not required), and lovely people.

The first one will likely feature Hilde Van Belle, a (bal)folk friend who currently has a Kickstarter running for her first solo album:
👉 Hilde Van Belle – First Solo Album

I already heard her songs at the CaDansa Balfolk Festival, and I could really feel the personal emotions in her music — honest, raw, and full of heart.
You should definitely support her! 💛

The album artwork is created by another (bal)folk friend, Verena, which makes the whole project feel even more connected and personal.

Hilde (left) and Verena (right) at CaDansa
📸 Valentina Anzani

So yes: the piano’s in place, the Wi-Fi works, the garden thrives, the boxes wait patiently, and the teapot is steaming.
We’ve arrived.
Phew. We actually moved. ☕🌳📦🎶

Unboxing the Ghent box (video in Dutch)

Last month I moved from Merelbeke to Ghent. I registered my new address on the government website, and last week I was invited to update my eID with my new address.

I made an appointment with one of the administrative centers of the city. The entire process took less than 5 minutes, and at the end I got a welcome gift: a box with a lot of information about the city services.

It’s been a while since I last did an unboxing video. The audio is in Dutch, maybe if I’m not too lazy (and only if people ask for it in the comments) I’ll provide subtitles.

Unboxing van het verwelkomingspakket van @StadGentVideos
Unboxing the Ghent box 🎁

Moving!

A few months ago I wrote about my preferred region to work. Well, that’s no longer true. The co-housing project where I live (in Merelbeke, near Ghent) is going to end, and I need to move by the end of July 2022.

This also has an influence on my preferred place to work. I have decided to find a place to live not too far from work, wherever that may be (because I’m still on the #jobhunt). Ideally it would be inside the triangle Ghent-Antwerp-Brussels but I think I could even be convinced by the Leuven area.

Factors I’ll take into account:

  • Elevation and hydrology – with climate change, I don’t want to live somewhere with increased risk of flooding.
  • Proximity of essential shops and services.
  • Proximity of public transport with a good service.
  • Proximity of car sharing services like Cambio.
  • Not too far from something green (a park will do just fine) to go for a walk or a run.

I haven’t started looking yet, I’m not even sure if I want to do co-housing again, or live on my own. That’ll depend on the price, I guess. (Living alone? In this economy???) First I want to land on a job.

That makes sense—without knowing where I will be working, house hunting feels a bit like putting the cart before the horse. Still, I find myself browsing listings occasionally, more out of curiosity than anything else. It is interesting to see how prices and availability vary wildly, even within the triangle I mentioned. Some towns look charming on paper but lack the basics I need; others tick all the boxes but come with a rental price that makes my eyebrows do gymnastics.

In the meantime, I am mentally preparing for a lot of change. Leaving my current co-housing situation is bittersweet. On one hand, it has been a wonderful experience: shared dinners, spontaneous conversations, and a real sense of community. On the other hand, living with others also means compromise, and part of me wonders what it would be like to have a space entirely to myself. No shared fridges, no waiting for the bathroom, and the joy of decorating a place to my own taste.

That said, co-housing still appeals to me. If I stumble upon a like-minded group or an interesting project in a new city, I would definitely consider it. The key will be finding something that balances affordability, autonomy, and connection. I do not need a commune, but I also do not want to feel isolated.

I suppose this transition is about more than just logistics—it is also a moment to rethink what I want day-to-day life to look like. Am I willing to commute a bit longer for a greener environment? Would I trade square meters for access to culture and nightlife? Do I want to wake up to birdsong or the rumble of trams?

These are the questions swirling around my head as I polish up my CV, send out job applications, and daydream about future homes. It is a lot to juggle, but oddly enough, I feel optimistic. This is a chance to design a new chapter from scratch. A little daunting, sure. But also full of possibility.