I’ve moved house and it’s everything I imagined it to be. The gardens are fabulous and the Victoria features are simply beautiful. The ceilings are high, the windows are huge the privacy is fabulous! Yes I know the roof leaks and the electrics need redoing and that there is no insulation, but there is so much to do .. and more, and I love it. I just love the space for the children to run about in, and that I have a project to keep me busy for years and years to come!Moving house meant two weeks without internet access. I practically had a panic attack when my husband told me to expect no surfing for that long! I denied that it would take that long for BT to get a line in. My coping mechanism -it would come much earlier I told myself... but here I am to confirm that it did take that long and that actually I really rather enjoyed parts of what felt like an enforced 1960’s pre-technology social experiment. My husband tells me that I’ve been a far nicer person to live with. Ok so I am always lovely to live with .. but with out internet am even more so! It was loosing twitter that was the hardest bit because I was cut off from my virtual friends, but it forced me to make the effort and catch up with all my girlfriends and their children. I’ve had lots and lots of friends for tea. I found that I talked more to my own children because I haven't been working and I've banned the TV for the whole holiday anyway. Interestingly I've got ten times as much done in the house, and I am on top of the washing and ironing for the first time in about a year .. how mundane - and yet oddly satisfying! That said I am here, back at my computer typing the second I got back on line!
I really missed the detail in life. Going to David Austin roses to get some plants for the garden, was overwhelming - there were just so many roses to choose from. If I had internet I would have researched the varieties I wanted to look at carefully and it would have been a far more productive and enjoyable experience, as a result I bought far fewer then I wanted to.
I missed the creative process of writing terribly. From about the age of seven I kept a diary. Of course they are excruciating to read and I never look at them, but in much the same way blogging is good for my soul. I have so much to write - including some fabulous recipes, roses and chickens and children - I am practically bursting to write. I need to write