As you can probably tell I am trying to cherish every beautiful sunrise that I see. There are not many left here for me to cherish. I know there will be new ones, I am not sad about our decisions, but those new ones are not here yet, and I firmly remind myself to live in the here and now.
When I find my new home I will put up a collections of the sunrises and sunsets that I have had the blessing to see whilst living here in France. It’s been a part of my life.
Life has took off now, we have less than three weeks left in this house. I have been packing for the last two weeks, and now every cupboard is empty apart from the stuff we’re using. The home we built is now being dismantled. I have held onto my sparkly lights until next week, just to feel as if we are still at home, but I know I will have to relinquish them eventually.
I have been mercenary, even selling our vintage Blue Willow plates, bowls and side plates, they are just not my thing, I prefer my plain white plates. It was only after I sold them that I realised that I had packed all our other plates and now we have no small plates or dinner plates, just platters! When I gave Daisy the cat some milk and cream she looked at me as if I had grown another head when I poured it out for her on a platter!
The shelves are coming down, our antique French mirrors are packed away and my bedroom that I lovingly put together is slowly being dismantled, but I am still trying to hold on to my sparklies in every room for as long as I can.
Our beautiful French buffet is now in storage along with our armoire, both have already gained scratches but I knew that was coming. No stress they can always be repainted.
The fourteen mirrors we have throughout the house are coming down. The old grandfather clock has been taken to storage and when I woke this morning waiting for it to chime out the time, I suddenly remembered it was now chiming away in our friends summer house. I hope the mice appreciate it, and don’t feel the need to re-enact ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’!
Our furries are stressed to the max, the dogs are getting tetchy with each other, and the cats have finally started to snuggle together after being at odds for years. We feel really guilty about our animals, poor Wiglet looks afraid all the time after her terrible start in life, and we have to keep reassuring her that everything will be okay, that she is coming with us. Harley pretty much takes most things in his stride but even he is getting arsy with Wiglet.
I feel sad because I know they all love this garden, and because I know they will have to move again from our rental into whatever house we find; and God knows what condition that will be in. I do know that the first job will be to fence the garden to protect them all. Despite my guilt I know that part of our decision is based on finding regular work, because we have responsibilities to them, and I know that they will love Ireland just as much as they love here.
We know in our heart of hearts that we are doing the right thing for us all; and we also know that if you want an adventure part of it is discomfort, and apprehension, and poignancy. But we’ve done it once, we know we can do it again. This time we’re just letting more stuff go, and going into the future with our eyes open, using all we have learned from this adventure.
As I packed up this week it suddenly came to me that the last five years have all been about learning things to prepare us for our life in Ireland. We know that life is mapped out, we accepted that a long time ago.
Life’s all about learning and facing your fears ay?