It turns out moving isn’t much fun. Packing up after five years in London, we realize how quickly a couple can amass stuff. Bookshelves cluttered with oddities and precious mementos, stacks of ticket stubs and miscellaneous receipts… what have you. It all amounts to a rather substantial administrative chore of processing, collating, and weeding.
There is a certain joy and cleansing in purging collectables, of reliving memories and discovering forgotten artifacts, however there’s also a depressing amount of clutter and unnecessary waste. I assume it will take some time for all this activity to settle into some semblance of sense or order and fortunately time is something we now have in abundance.
We have finished renovating our place and rented it out for the next year. We have quit our jobs. We have boxed and moved our things into long-term storage. And now we sit in the tranquility of North Berwick and listen to howling winds and crashing waves. The sea is unusually turbulent, but there is relief and solace in the crisp air.
An adventure waits out there.
goodbye teesdale street