Picture the scene. I’m lying in bed at Mum’s place propped up by two pillows surrounded by snotty tissues. It’s Day 3 of my second bout of Covid in as many months and this time it’s absolutely floored me. I’ve rarely felt this exhausted or spaced out, in fact the last time I felt this ill was after my brain surgery in 2016 so that gives you some idea of how bad things are.
The last few months have been relentless and I guess this is my body saying ‘enough is enough’. Since September I’ve taught at Shetland Wool Week, the Woollyaway retreat, Knit With Attitude and Black Sheep Wools in addition to vending at the Scottish Yarn Festival. On top of that there’s been the mammoth task of selling the Hove house and finding a new nest in a new city. This meant navigating the nightmare that is the English system of selling houses where you’re shown around often filthy houses by an estate agent whose knowledge of the property begins and ends with its value.
Me: “When was the boiler last serviced?
Young estate agent: “Don’t know, I’ll have to ask.”
Me: “And is the chimney open, can I install a wood burner?”
Young estate agent: “Don’t know, I’ll have to ask.”
Me: “Damp is obviously an issue here, I can smell it plus there’s snail trails all over the kitchen floor. Oh and is that fresh cat shit behind that chair?”
Young estate agent: “Is it? I hadn’t noticed”. (Despite the overwhelming smell of fresh cat crap).
Aargh!
Take it from me, buying houses in Scotland was always a much simpler affair. In fact during our time together Sam and I must have moved house around nine times but this has easily been the most stressful move I’ve ever experienced. Of course this time it’s very different. This time I’m doing it alone. And when you factor in the physical toll of all that teaching, hours of travel plus the stress of driving a six hour round trip for each house hunt and the emotional weight of packing up a four bedroom house it’s no surprise that I’m currently laid up in bed with the Rona. But sneezing and snotty tissues aside there are HUGE changes on the horizon.
Next week I’ll finally be moving to my new home city of Bristol. Having taken what’s felt like forever I finally found THE house that will be the nest that Jang and I have been searching for since the beginning of the year. I say ‘I found’ but it’s more accurate to say ‘we’ because I couldn’t have taken on this mammoth task without the help of my big sis San. She’s been living in Bristol for over thirty years and having tried to convince Sam and I to move there since FOREVER, she’s been instrumental in helping me to find the right house for my next chapter. I have to admit that I’m excited. Yes that excitement is tinged with sadness because Sam isn’t here, but I am super excited. And more than a little nervous.
Choosing to step into a new chapter, in a new city is a healthy, positive move. Over the two years since Sam’s death I’ve learned how important it is to really tune into the needs of both my heart and body. Staying in our Hove home would have been an easy, familiar option but I felt the time was right to actively step into this strange new life of mine. To effect a positive change rather than respond to the events – both sad and happy – that occur in it. That upset and shape it. And so it is that Jang and I are heading west.
Ah yes Mr Jangalang, that champion, lifesaving pussycat of mine. Before getting him I could never have believed how healing having a pet could be. It’s remarkable how much his unconditional love and cheeky playful personality have kept me going since he came into my life.
You may be asking, what are my plans for the next few months? Well I have none. Actually that’s not exactly true. Let’s just say that I’m gifting myself 6 months (minimum) to settle into the new house so I can enjoy the process of turning it into a home. I do have a couple of work projects lined up next year but thankfully they have generous deadlines which mean there are no immediate demands on my time or currently limited brain capacity. Plus of course, there’s also BIPOC in Fiber to keep ticking over.
For now though, I’m giving my knackered old body the time it deserves to shake off this damn virus. And when I’ve recovered, I look forward to exploring the music, food and arts venues of my vibrant new home city.
Until next time, stay well.
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