Yesterday I took a blip in my Mojo, don’t know what happened. 5 weeks into our new home and I think an overwhelming feeling came over me, a sense of dread, a feeling of what have we done.
The boss was away helping her aunt get ready for a huge upheaval of a move and I was manning the fort. I’d had some good successes, got both boys to their respective morning activities, slotted in a coffee stop in between and got them home safely, cut the grass, done a wash, planted some rhubarb for next year.
What hit me was trying to dismantle a set of shelves, shelves that had been installed a good 20 years, the dust and a rotting apple core sat there at the top was just a little too much. My 9 year as a tool jockey was definitely getting bored and a good hour later I’d still only managed to get one screw out.
Then tea was calling, I was planning on toad in the hole, and sticking a slow cook lamb stew on, the beet root still hadn’t been roasted from the veg box, and the lettuce hadn’t been washed. It’s at this point of writing I realise how stupid all this sounds and why I took a blip!
I know my mum would say I’m doing too much and need to slow down, you can only do so much. I know she’s right, I’m trying to build a home at the same time as live.
Expectation, running out of time and self doubt crept in.
Woke up this morning rested an eager to go, the sun shining and the view from the bedroom a sustaining reason of why we moved.