We moved, and despite our living-close-to-family joy, I moped; caught a case of the blues. I slowly got into the swing of things, visiting London often. I had just began to feel familiar with the shape of the house and it’s beams, the shape of the town, some of it’s eccentric inhabitants and odd shop opening times, the feel of this new life; a life so very different to the one we had in London; when we were chucked out of our house. Boom. It’s a hotel now. You can stay in our old bedroom for 100 english pounds a night. We were nomads for 3 months; travelling around Europe (5 weeks of bliss in the eye of a storm) followed by stays in friends spare rooms back in the UK. Then we moved house. Again. And although this house is so much more right for us, it sent me into another blues tinged tailspin. Twice in one year! That was in October and by the time January came by I was very pleased to say goodbye to that tumultuous year, teasing with it’s ups, vicious with it’s downs and its overriding sense of unsettledness and unease. A flaky ex sort of year.
I’ve spent the 10 months since slowly adjusting, learning to trust that things will be the same for a while. I've been catching my breath and deepening my relationship with family and new friends. It took a long time to shake off the need to ‘DO Something Substantial with our day, and when you aren’t travelling or moving house or unpacking boxes and when there aren’t any galleries or pop up shops or concept playgrounds on your doorstep, and your only options are the beach or the woods, you pull on your waterproofs and wellies and Go Outside. You traipse around the muddy woods and visit the freezing sea. And I discovered something beautiful and simple and good there.