So much has happened since my last blog, but now maybe the muse is beginning to return. Almost everything has come true, but not without considerable stress, anxiety, heartbreak and finally unbelievable “luck” – which I prefer to consider as ‘meant to be’.
I arrived in the nick of time before lock-down in Australia, and served my fourteen days of splendid isolation on the upper floor of my son’s home, bird-watching from the balcony and waited on by family, always at the prescribed distance with plenty of hand-washing. It was a period of winding-down, peace and quiet relaxation. I feel truly blessed.
Today is Mothers’ Day in Australia. I stroll along the Swan River in Perth after a delicious late breakfast with family, then walk to my little villa on the border of a nature reserve ten minutes away.
The sun is shining, and it’s warm outside. But we’re approaching winter, and last night for the first time since moving in three weeks ago, I turned on the heater in my sitting-room. The contraption was noisy, my hearing aids magnifying the sound, so I read instead of watching the telly; and I repositioned my chair in order to catch the warmth, most of which blew over my head, so I had to snuggle under a blanket anyway. The Aussies need to learn a thing or two regarding heating… or maybe it was me not able to figure out how to aim it downwards.
I love my well-designed home with its inevitable quirks and challenges, and I’m looking forward to developing a skill new to me – gardening. I have already successfully transplanted three herbs which are flourishing in a large pot outside my kitchen door. And it’s literally decades since I made drop scones; I’ll have to do something to attract the grandchildren through my doors now that the Covid19 lock-down is gradually easing.
There is so much to think about. Starting from scratch is exciting and challenging, and there’s no hurry. When I’ve got the sitting-room more or less as I want it, I’ll share a picture or two. Meanwhile here is one of the open plan kitchen area. The picture is a photo taken in a Vietnam cemetery by a talented grandson, and the tablecloth came from Zimbabwe many years ago.