Through the summer I anticipated autumn and dreamt of daily blog posts, and of endless quiet moments drinking coffee and staring out of the window watching the colours change. Of having a morning a week to myself. Yes! Myself!!! Man alive. It aint happening. Scratch that – the first week was pretty chilled. I may have had a coffee at some point. sitting down.
It’s not bad stuff. Just busy stuff. I drove cross country last week, with my three year old travel companion, to help pack up my parents house ready for the big move to Yorkshire. A little bitter sweet. Very therapeutic. Closure is sometimes important. Goodbye’s sometimes need dealing with. So it was dealt with.
I have no photos. I’m not even entirely sure where my camera is. I’m behind with my project 52. But we all knew that would happen, right? I’ll catch up, in a
cheating creative kinda way.
But we do have a dog. For a week anyways until the move is done. Im questioning our wisdom in calling our youngest Ruby when we already have a Rosie around. The two of them answer to either name now.
I daren’t expect a normal week anymore. But [as long as I get my sleep] I’m ready for extraordinary. Bring. It. On.