It is ours. It is ours. It is ours. The Kafkaesque labyrinth of papers and documents and signatures and last minute emergencies and crazy runarounds is over. We got the keys last night, dropped off a few things to make it "ours" and had a little champagne to mark the occasion.
I have much to say - for of course, when is it that I don't? -- and I will eventually say it all. Observations to come may include: whyohwhyohwhy escrow people are rude, how certain loan "guys" can be so arrogant and get away with it, why it is I don't like to be called peaches or pumpkin or sweetcakes whilst I'm borrowing vast sums of money and essentially gambling with my life (see loan guy) and a little insight into the psychology of the loft and why every seeming "loftie" must embellish their loft with only post-modern furniture from Modernica. Please. You are buying a loft, not becoming a loft.
And so. Before I go getting all trite and rude and, well, me...I thought I would take a moment to share with you a little snippet of Jeanette Winterson from way back when. This piece from the Times rang so true to me years ago that I carry it about in my head and pull it out on appropriate occasions. This being one of those (the impending moving and all), I thought I'd trot it out. It captures my feelings spot on as I begin to place the things of my life into boxes and decide what I will need for the new road ahead.
"One of the reasons that moving is traumatic is its effect on our emotions. We are contained - literally - in a house. Shift it, and the feelings are not just ones of re-location, but re-allocation. Events, desires, memories, hopes, are packed with the furniture, and cannot but be unpacked differently. The house changes and we change with it. It is one of the few opportunities for past, present and future to become liquid again, from their normally fixed and solid state. We re-view the past, the present is altered under our feet, and the future, which is made out of past and present, is no longer the predictable things it was.
When you move house, anything can happen"
I wish you some shifting & some "anything can happen" excitement over the next few days. I'll be back once my moving bruises heal and I've had a good dose (per Patricia) of some good wine.
