June came. June went.
Bye bye June.
I’d say I’ll miss ye but I really hardly knew ye.
Moving on.
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I am 3 weeks away from packing my suitcase again for an extended stay east of Wales.
And as lovely as it is here, boy am I ready to go.
There is, of course, to see dear friends. It’s been a long time.
But also, and quite simply, I feel like I’m just a better version of myself when I am in England.
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I think better. I smile more. I sleep sounder.
I engage society. I get and give hugs. Work goes smoother.
I go for drives around Somerset and look at clouds and sheep and grass and hills and my imagination creates adventurous tales about each.
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Okay, that last bit may seem like I never got over my 9 years old self.
But to quote the Dad from Step Brothers:
Never lose your inner dinosaur.
You got it Pops.
‘Nuf said.
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Since the end of May I have been fully moved into this two storey three bedroom brick-red farmhouse. It’s not a real farmhouse. Just that the colonial design and red wood siding makes it look like a large barn.
So, I nicknamed it the Farmhouse.
Anway, the Farmhouse is a lovely spot.
Quiet and large. In a settled neighbourhood. Tucked in a world of high oak trees, colourful woodpeckers and skinny squirrels.
Early June a deer strolled over the front lawn.
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This place has many pleasant qualities. Not to mention being in a traffic-free cul-de-sac.
However, about week 2 in, it became clear that where I am just doesn’t really mesh with who I am.
And it’s been a mental struggle.
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It dawned on me that I am squarely a poor wee cottage type of girl.
One who needs to be nestled between a thriving small downtown and a meadow.
With neighbours with piercings not retirement plans.
Or, at the very least, both.
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I knew I was asking for trouble when I started listing things I didn’t like about the Farmhouse.
Number 1 began with the two large red ants climbing up the living room wall. Number 16 detailed the inexplicable wind tunnel shower experience in the upstairs bathroom.
Just before going to Number 17, I promptly deleted the list before saving.
Yeah, listing negative stuff about an inanimate object is so not good for the chicken soup soul.
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So, rather than brooding, I decided to put a positive spin on my current living arrangement.
I’ve decided that intermittently researching the different flora and fauna here will be a solid distraction for the next 9 months, mixed with at least three trips back to England.
This gives me 7 months to move me and my stuff to a space that blends my need for small, quirky, and preferably unique floor designs that also offer daily life character.
Well, that’s the plan … and it seems so much of a better idea than listing up Number 17.
Happy Saturday.