Over the weekend, half of which I spent in sunny NW London, we got the news that our move from the ‘country paradise’ (called that by the local rag in their ‘The House of the Week’ -feature) is more imminent than we anticipated. This, I keep telling myself, is wholly good news and not at all scary.
But there are things I’m going to miss, like this view (above).
I’ve written before about how strange it is to move from a house where for the past 15 years you’ve watched your children grow. A time which seemed to have flown by; yet so much happened during it. When we moved here, away from it all, I felt this house was a little bit of Finland for me. Here we built ourselves a Finnish sauna cottage (‘Nordic log cabin’ according to the paper), here I could watch the stars at night surrounded by total silence. Here in the garden I planted a Finnish midsummer rose – a gift from a very good friend. Here I could organise loud crayfish parties, accompanied by drinking songs, without any complaints from the neighbours about noise or stray crayfish shells and claws on the lawn. Here I could grow proper dill and pickling cucumbers to create almost Finnish type salt gherkins. Here the occasional snowfall rendered the fields almost ski-friendly. Here I could celebrate Christmas Eve in the Finnish way, quietly, pretending the last minute shopping for presents wasn’t going on all around me, teaching the children that Christmas is about family, good food and peace.
As I begin to realise the enormity of the physical and practical task of moving (we seem to have twice as many items of everything from beds to sofas to fridges we’ll need in our new down-sized life) I try to contain my emotions. On Saturday, when we got the news while driving down the M4, I first wanted to cry, then laugh, then cry again. I controlled myself until Son, on hearing the news said, ‘It’s OK Mum, we’re not exactly children any more.’ It was that simple statement that made me finally crack. His words made me realise that there was no going back. That in spite of me, time marches on and there’s nothing any of us can do but to get used to it. I have to embrace change, embrace our new life. And it’s not as if I haven’t wanted to move out of the country and into the city for years. But while a part of me is elated, the other part is heart-broken.
Now I won’t say any more about this as it’s all still going on and anything strange could yet happen to change the situation. So instead, I’ll post a picture of me on our way to the party. As you can see JPG won the day.