Filed under: changes
All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.
~Anatole France 1844-1924
What crime couldn’t get right, the economy did. With a stroke of a pen, an increase in the interest rate; the pastoral life of living on a plot out of town became a luxury. The rise of interest rates coupled with fuel prices, forced a move to the suburb in town. I wonder if that would qualify as a forced removal and would entitle me to a claim.
As with everything there are pros and cons, the things I will miss, the things I won’t miss.
The things I miss.
Like looking out my back door, not only looking out of it but walking out of it into the garden.
(The flat only has one door, both front and back!)
Lots of space, I could fit the entire flat, into the kitchen and dining room area.
The silent titanic battle raging between the plants, with nature’s version of the squatter, all fighting for their share of the sun.
A BIG kitchen, I enjoy cooking, preparing small bowls with all the ingredients, trying out new dishes and sauces.
The silence, a silence you find only in the bush. Not that it is noisy here, but this is more of a prison silence.
My routine,
My dog.
The things I don’t miss
The power cables getting stolen every week.
The schlep of buying a ton everything. With a supermarket across the road, another around the corner, if I want some exercise, a third one a block away; three shopping centres within three blocks.
The Things I am Learning.
To become organised, in a small flat, there has to be a place for everything, and everything must be in its place.
Becoming organized in one area, has a habit of spilling over into all areas; one which I don’t think anyone else has a problem with.
Establishing goals without goals it is impossible to organise anything.
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