I’m in. I’m surrounded by boxes. And I’m happy as a pig in poop. I threw away 10 bin bags of rubbish from the old place. Yeah! You heard right. 10. Rubbish. 10 bags of rubbish. I have one bag of confidential rubbish left. I want to burn it.

I’ve spent a week washing curtains. I wanted to put my own up, but the drop in the new place is 2 foot longer. So I washed the ones left in the new place so they would smell of me.

I decorated the bedroom and half decorated the bathroom and moved things from one box to another, to another, to another… You know like those games where you have to push blocks around a maze?

I was going to bed at sun down and rising at sun up. Or when the work men next door woke me, which ever happened earlier. I finally started to lose that weight that I thought I’d lose when I started working.

I’ve rebuilt all my furniture. Felt home sick for my old place. Cried because I knew my Nan would have loved this house. Watched the cat explore her new surroundings and been so excited that I have to make myself not let her in the garden until she’s had her boosters.

I handed in the keys to the old place. I drank the bottle of Lanson I was saving. I finally broke and put the computer together. I watched the rain on my new windows and I turned on my new gas fire. I managed not to kill my orchids in the move.

Laura Mvula is right…

Sometimes the grass ain’t greener on the other side.
Maybe the sky is clearer in another place.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Waiting for a day of change to come.
And you’re beautiful, dancing in a gloomy store.

But you got diamonds under your feet.
But you got diamonds in your heart.
But you got diamonds in your heart.

Change did come… and the grass is greener. Even in the gloom of bereavement, I can see blue sky. I hope things keep changing for the better. It’s been a tough year. I have forgotten Om Mane Padme Hum on a Wednesday, usually remembering on Thursday morning.

I have four weeks of work left. A manuscript to type up still. And there are walks to be had. There is a heart to finish. How long can I live with all these boxes before they start to drive me nuts?

My friend has given me the information I need for a counselling course that starts in September and I am tempted to take a Painting and Decorating class too. I have funding to apply for, so I can continue the Patchwork Poems.

Life goes on.

Om Mane Padme Hum.