Procrastination

It’s not just the blog that hasn’t been updated recently, but it seems I’ve let the washing go a little too.

It took a few attempts to get this photo right. And seconds after this one, the inevitable happened and the whole pile toppled slowly to the floor. Very, very slowly, onto my dirty floor.* Let’s take a close up of the clean washing, shall we?

Now that we’ve aired the {clean} linen, perhaps I should get back to the business of blogging.

Or ironing.

* I should point out here that the floor is only dirty because earlier yesterday morning the vacuum broke. It just stopped working mid-floor and we haven’t had a peep out of it since.

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Oops

I think I probably speak for us all when I say it cannot be stressed strongly enough that the time to go out and find a new hairdresser is not the same day you have spent the morning in your pajamas feeling sorry for yourself.

I think I probably speak for many of us when I say, the best time to take a haircut is not when your answer to “what can we do for you today” is

“oh whatever you think”.

I can’t decide if I feel worse now I’m out of my pj’s and into my new hair, or just poorer. I’ll let you know.

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It’s been a while

Hmm. Sorry. It’s been more than a while!
We have finally found our feet back home: found a new home, a new car, (wheels for the weekly groceries – a great positive!) a new town center. Today I also got myself a new doctor, a new library card and some new pegs for my new washing line.

I’ve been asking J about a washing line for a couple of weeks. We have a washer-dryer but it just seems to heat the clothes rather than dry them, so I’ve been using airers and hangers around the house. Not the best solution when there are still boxes to be emptied or taken to the recycling center/tip/charity shop at every turn in our little home. We bought a rotary airer at the weekend. (The lady at the local Homebase recognizes me, I’m sure of it. She is no doubt judging my lack of organization and our resultant need for two or three seemingly random items each visit.)

When we got it home we discovered that the plastic sink it comes with won’t stay in the soft London grass. So on Monday we went back to Homebase for a metal one. (I’m beginning to see the lady’s point, maybe…) It was dark when we got back from shopping, and J didn’t think the neighbors would particularly appreciate him hammering onto metal spikes before 8am this morning, so I was given instructions for how to fix the problem: spike, wooden block, hammer. Hard.

I put my sheets in the washing machine. Wet clothes? Check. Slightly drunk looking, but nonetheless uprightish washing line? Check. Something to hold the clothes onto the line when the wind blows? Er, what time does Homebase open?

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Happy Memories

It sounds a little pathetic to say that the last month has been stressful. Bigger things have happened; worse things; harder things, are happening to people all around us. But leaving behind friends from the last three years has been difficult.

Life will be different in London, exciting, yes, but change always involves leaving the old behind. Even when it means coming back to what is familiar.

The whirlwind which was packing up, saying goodbye, and booking tickets in less than two weeks didn’t help. I’ve only just in the last week sat down to look at some of the (hundreds of) photographs we took on vacation in Yellowstone. I’d utterly forgotten taking this shot.

Amongst the pebbles

And corny as it may sound, carrying around the awesome memories of the last three years will keep us going long after we’ve moved into our own home and we’ve started to make new friends all over again.

Memories

Happy Love Thursday, a group feature hosted by ShutterSisters.

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Weekly Changes

Yesterday I sat and had my lunch by the river in Twickenham. I sat with my ham sandwich and watched the Canada geese bathe in the murky Thames.

I sat and thought about how the week before we’d started the day with coffee and croissants by the lake, worrying about how the next week would would go, and whether or not I had enough sunscreen on my face not to burn. Little did we know that the following morning, our biggest concern would be whether or not our four international suitcases, which had spilled into the passenger seats of a giant American Town Car, would fit in the back of a very small Ford Fiesta. For the record, Ford Fiestas are very roomy and with the seats in the back split you can easily fit in four international suitcases at 50 lbs each, two large US regulation sized carry-on bags, one camera case and one stuffed to the gills laptop bag. Oh yes and three adults with a lots of coats. Incidentally, the carry-on bags did not meet anyone’s requirements weight-wise; least of all the poor husband who had to haul them up into a overhead locker.

The week before that, we had just begun the process of contacting our friends, landlord, employers, and banks to let them know that we’d be leaving the country a little earlier than planned. You know, due to the huge, bison-sized error we’d discovered on Thursday night.

I think the week before that we were traveling around the National Parks of Montana and Wyoming, bear-spotting.

Forgive me if posting is sporadic and details are sketchy. Although it sounds unlikely, this whole moving back home is almost as disorientating as moving away.

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