A rich moving experience has flowed over a fortnight and it has been interesting. Moving things in isolation whilst respecting social distancing, a removal man whose attitude is calling for him to take up a different profession, a week later another removal man (recommended by a new neighbour) bringing in more furniture with his buddy and making me laugh, moving day involving the builders here still beavering away, many hours of scrubbing, gifted furniture, a friend’s husband on loan for DIY, hot dinners being dropped off, multiple deliveries, getting to know my postman (Rob, who is lovely), having to change internet provider mid-order and it all working for five minutes before the power went out for a long time (taking the super-smart boiler and hot water with it) and my body protesting throughout.
My heart is full of gratitude to my Mum and Dad, loving friends, kind neighbours, a community-led village, companies who are still running in hard times, delivery drivers going above and beyond, refuse collectors taking away my excess with a wave and a smile, a landlord who knows what he is doing with his loving son who makes things happen and a comfy wing-back chair and Netflix when I need to pause.
On Sunday morning, I stood in the sunshine with the birds singing, the church clock chiming and washing blowing on the line, as I planted up some butterfly boxes on the garden wall just outside my workroom.
My cup runneth over.