Moving. An extraordinary way to come to terms with just how much stuff you have, by picking it all up and trotting it down the hall, into an elevator, out the parking garage, into a truck, down the highway, across a bridge and up a flight of stairs.
It’s heavier than you think and more than you will ever need.
My legs benefit, shorts weather is fast approaching. This following a week of painting. Brilliant new shape up routine.
Now I face the kitchen, which is cobbling together quicker than I’d imagined. Bright sunny yellow and a couple of red cocottes. I shall be cooking, writing and shooting in no time.
Joyously, the new digs include a large patch of dirt to play in and much to my delight signs that someone before me loved this same soil; green things are shooting above ground to be tended, admired and eaten — including a veritable hedge of rhubarb.
Big green leaves and red stems, now shooting up flowers, which we shall top, and a few sunny days from now, arm-fulls of rhubarb will be trotted upstairs into one receptacle or another.
I see much delicious baking in my near future… plus the possibility of a few compotes, jams and chutneys.