Can you believe it?! We only have two weeks left in the Big Smoke. The countdown is ticking away and I have, so far, lived up to my ‘Last minute Lavinia’ nature or what my dear Mamma lovingly refers to as my ‘ostrich syndrome’. Nothing packed and very little sorting completed. Might have to do something about that pretty sharpish as can’t bear the thought of the removal men packing up my knicker drawer! To my list of achievements (and procrastinations regarding the move) this week I can add the following: talking about sorting through all our clutter (very important to waste time thinking about decluttering before getting on with it) and somehow managing to dye a significant portion of Primrose’s hair green. A lesson for us all, dear Reader: do NOT use a CD/DVD green indelible marker to name a sunhat in haste. Apparently not so permanent if the hat gets wet…
You will be pleased to hear though, dear Reader, that I have managed to somehow brave our hellish furnace of an attic and take some offending items to the charity shop. Unwanted wedding gifts from eight years ago which have moved house twice, a glass chess set from Venice that both Jerry and I have always hated, two Moroccan tea tables…(one can be justified, two is just too much Morocco)! After much debate about whether or not we should keep a car seat for our grandchildren, I realised that I was surprisingly sad about how quickly time has flown by and perhaps that could explain my fondness for avoiding the inevitable! Of late it seems that Jerry, the girls and I have been saying so many goodbyes….
Sod’s law too, that after 6 years of living in SW London, I discover a rather lovely new friend just as we are about to leave the Big Smoke. I only wish I had met her years ago but maybe then I might never have decided to leave London at all. Her website Life After London is such a fount of knowledge for all those moving and she has helped so many in their quest for the good life, it seems only fitting that I should be added to her list of ‘jobs well done’! I only hope that I do live up to her fabulous remarks about me and manage to fit nicely into the new life waiting for us all. I do hope that she and her rather delicious children will come and visit us very soon to make sure we are doing it right. I have promised not to give her any more jam in the meantime! When Margot met Bee.
With all these lavish farewells I seem to be bidding, there is nothing like the playful chiding of a dear old friend to bring one back down to earth, with a quip of “You’re only moving to Hampshire. It isn’t the moon!” Minty was, of course, entirely correct, dear Reader!! It seems as if the gods agreed with her too and felt the need to put things back into perspective for me as this morning whilst walking Monty in a slightly bleary eyed state and carrying Poppy in the backpack, I stumbled down a rabbit hole. No Alice jokes please, dear Reader….. Thankfully it was fairly early and there were not many dog walkers about to see my comedy fall, watch me hobble to the car with dearest Primrose acting as human crutch as she gave me her ‘expert’ medical opinion of “It will probably go black and fall off”. Reassuring. My ankle is now an old lady’s ‘cankle’ and I have taken Primrose’s treatment advice: “I think that you need a good long sit down and a drink, Mummy!” Gin, deep heat and a seat in the sunshine with my new ‘countryside kitchen’ book, courtesy of some very lovely old school chums – not strictly Dr Primrose’s orders but surely, these things are open to interpretation, dear Reader?! I shall never get round to doing any of the packing at this rate…..