The traumatic experience of packing up our flat, our possessions and our lives is now thankfully mostly behind us. Leaving us feeling very temporary about ourselves as we shift, grateful but bemused, from one home to another, laying our hats and hoping for the best.
Above: Helen takes an unorthodox approach to packing.
Above: Our stuff! All packed into 50 sqft!
It has to be said that this process has not been conducive to sentimentality, as we’ve ruthlessly rifled through our worldly possessions, guided by mantras like “have you seen/worn/used this item in the past year?” and “would you pay to store this?”. The charity shops of St.Albans were simultaneously delighted and terrified. We have now successfully pared down our “stuff” to one 5ft by 10ft storage space, three suitcases, two rucksacks, and two pieces of hand luggage.
Meantime, we’ve been saying our farewells. To Mums and Dads, brothers and sisters, friends and their children, our favourite café, the Guardian newspaper, good quality cheese, and our beautiful car. *Sigh*
Massive thanks are owed to the many who have suffered our stresses, our cluttering up of their homes, and our emptying of their fridges.
And in the midst of all this, we see Kenya and East Africa in the news, as drought and conflict create thousands of refugees and threaten millions with starvation. We wonder if we will make any difference at all. Mmm. Hopefully a little. Watch this space.
Tomorrow we’ll be on a plane. We’ve probably forgotten something. Oh well. Let’s pretend it’ll all work out in the end.
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