Moving on up!

It is done. I have moved. Or rather, it would be more true to say, I have been moved. Frankly, from here on in, that's the only way I'm going to move, unless everything fits into the back of my car. The most stressful thing about the entire experience of moving, was waiting for the removal men. 

I got most of my boxes unpacked the weekend after the move. It has very quickly gone from The Cottage to feeling like home. The rooms are large and airy, with all our things in them, it's so comfy and cosy. I love opening the curtains in the morning. I never know what I'll see. Granted on the days I work in Norwich, I don't see very much at all because it's dark. But this morning there were two hen pheasants perched on my fence looking a bit disgruntled at my interrupting their chat. 

Living out in the Sticks, there's a lot to get used to. The nearest shop is over a mile away. I will have to go even further afield for my larger weekly shops. I've been told there is a Morrisons and Tescos in Beccles, which isn't that far from here. I'm going to have to do a bit of research to see if I can get my hair, nails and eyebrow seen to locally, rather than have to troop up to Norwich just for that. 

The most challenging thing was lack of internet. I'm not bothered about television and haven't missed that at all. No Facebook? OMG! How did I cope?

Actually, the break from my online life was good for me as well. It made me re-think my morning routine and I realised how much time I spent on social media, when I started being far more productive round the house. Nevertheless, I really missed it.

Yesterday, I came home to find my new kit waiting here for me. I expected it to be incredibly complicated to set up. Hell no. The most complicated part of the whole process has been figuring out the best place to put the router. Happily, the xbox can connect wirelessly, so no more cable trailing across the floor and it's not like I'm gaming online so I need to eek out every extra millibyte of speed. 

This morning, I unpacked four more boxes and set up my study. That makes me especially happy, I have to say. I've got the last three boxes of books to go, but they can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I'm enjoying sitting at my desk, staring at the hedge laden with rose-hips and the field beyond it. I may indulge in an afternoon nap. 

That's the one thing I haven't enjoyed about the experience - the weariness. I'm bone tired. I've got dark marks under my eyes and I've got that lovely grey tinge to my complexion at the moment. I am just so tired. Having said that, I'm sleeping better. And as the days pass and I enjoy the routine at work and come back to my new abode, I feel lighter. Much lighter.

I'm so glad I did this. It was such a good thing to do. I'm so incredibly lucky to have the friendship and support from Z, who's been such a star. Boy came home last weekend. He seems far more comfortable here. He couldn't wait to take Z's dog out for a walk and explore. I'm really looking forward to him coming home for the festive season. It's going to be so much fun. 

All in all, I'm doing okay. Less strung out, chilling out more. In fact...I think it's time for a quick nap...

Been and Gone

Last Friday, Z very kindly let me build a bonfire in her garden. In the final preparations ahead of the move, we'd talked about the possibility of my 'borrowing' her back garden to set fire to some old diaries, journals and coursework from my creative writing degree. When I looked at the amount of space these journals and diaries etc were taking up, I had to stop and have a long think as to why I continued to hang on to them. 

I had a shelf full of hardbacked art journals filled with the results of endless tarot readings. When I started going to creative writing courses, I started to do my 3 pages a day to write the crap out of my head. Pages and pages of dross. These books were filled with relationship problems and my relentless search for a life partner. Dull, dull, dull.

I lugged them through 3 house moves and I refused to make it a fourth. 

After all, it's not like I ever referred to them for information; and actually, looking at them from over here - I know that was me then, but it's not me now and they are entirely irrelevant to my experience of life now. 

The great thing about the Past, is that's it's been and gone. Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I survived! Not only that, I'm sitting here getting ready to kick off the next part of my life - that as a woman with an independent Boy. Do I need to re-hash all that shite? No, not really. If ever I get the urge, I can always dip into the archives of my various blogs where I grappled with and agonised over The Meaning of Life.

As we stood watching it all burn, Z and I talked and toasted the flames. She asked me how I felt, if going through the ritual burning made any difference.

I don't feel any different, if I'm totally honest. I do feel grateful I no longer have to lug those damn journals about, but no, I still feel me. Me at 43, still writing, still working, still being a lover, a friend, a mother. Still absolutely bloody skint (but with options). I'm a bit tired, a bit apprehensive about the whole financial thing, I'm wondering how the parent bit will turn out when Boy goes off to university.

Ultimately, as the year has progressed, I am more and more focused on achieving financial sustainability through my writing and I think the foundations are nearly set and ready for me to start seriously building. Autumn and Winter will find me alone, pounding the keyboard of my laptop, deep in thought. 

I'm really looking forward to it. The next step...