After days of sorting and packing, it is glorious just to lie in bed knowing that the day is mine and that I can stay in bed as long as I like.
Later downstairs, I see the boxes waiting to be sorted. Like those silent guardians of Easter Island they stand as sentinels, embracing history within, but waiting to be emptied out into the future which they will somehow shape with their varied contents.
I feel light-hearted, knowing that this job is lesser one than before. Two-thirds of my property is already in storage.
There is a process by which I have to come to terms with my aunt's house and learn to love it, filled as it is with the things that amuse a 90 year old lady.
After an hour or two, much is unpacked . Not put into cupboards but left in groups so that it can be easily re-packed when the time comes to move once more.
In a moment's silent reflection, I say to myself, 'So this is where you ended up!'
I would never have guessed it.
Well, I now have a house for a few months. The next task is to try and work out how I'm going to support myself. It's quite an uphill task as my monthly out goings amount to about £1000 and that's before I make any money for myself.
Thankfully, that is a task for another day.
No comments:
Post a Comment