We Have Moved
We have moved into an area that we are in love with.
We spent a year searching far and wide. You can’t say we haven’t done our homework, due diligence Michael calls it. We only knew that a change is needed. Time for what we longed for or thought we longed for.
Many moons ago a character home beckoned. The timing wasn’t right with two young daughters. We didn’t feel it was fair on them. The time, the energy, that would have been required of us. As I walk through the streets of Lathlain, past a multitude of character homes. With perfectly boxed gardens, an abundance of roses hemmed in by rows of lilac Agapanthus. The scents are mesmerising. As are the lead light windows, the white trims and the deep red brickwork. A lean-to shelter for a garage, picket fences and lush lawns.
Michael has the hands for renovating. Can turn to any task, be it floors, wall papering, skirting’s, pulling bits out and adding bits in, building pillars and pergolas. He adopts my visions into masterpieces. Mixed with his visions he steers me in the right direction. Keeps me on the straight and narrow, as I’ll just run with it. He’s very analytical. And oh so sensible at times. We are the same and opposites in a flurry of design and thinking.
Our previous homes have been talked about and much admired, all two of them. The buyers for our latest project wanted to purchase the furniture to. ‘Not bloody likely’, said I. That took me two years to collect and collate.
This move sees us struggling in a down turn in the economy. Perhaps not the smartest move. No worry we figured, as we would be buying in the same market. Which, we have (much more to come on that later). Job uncertainties, two weddings ahead had us both in a dither.
Packing up a home. Topped with the most, horrendous menopause issues. I have not been myself. I lost my love of life, my spirit diminished, social media dropped to zero. Even I didn’t like myself.
I am not alone as scores of woman are in the same boat. Somebody, somewhere wired us wrong. I have been down every path, trust me, there is nothing to do but wait it out.
I have been, more so than usual, forgetful. My head when not vacant, spins in circles. I cannot see clearly. I have shed a lake of tears and am lucky if I get to sleep for four hours a night. Others I know survive on less, I’m not one of them.
I will drive to the shops and buy groceries I already have. I drive home in whichever way the car is pointing.
Despite sleeping tablets, and medication to reduce anxiety, and sweats, relief for Mother Nature curse. She isn’t very nice is our Mother Nature; in fact she’s a cranky bitch.
The only time I can cope is when I’m at work, a job I love. Thanks to the recent government measures on Visa restrictions! I fear that will no longer be. I understand though. Turnbull’s speech this morning has it’s merits.
I am beginning to feel more myself, coping better. Mother Nature has dialled back a notch. I have had unconscious conscious support from three of my girlfriends. They call me, talk to me. I am blessed to have these three perceptive women in my life. They know who they are.
I am now ready to begin writing about our new home. Writing short stories, sitting and clacking away at my desk. The ideas we have, the mood boards I’m creating.