We dropped 30 degrees the day we arrived in England. Singapore released us at a sultry 29 Celsius. Heathrow was making some effort at spring with 4°C and when we arrived in Warwick at around 10pm, it was one of the colder days of my life at minus one. Meanwhile, my family were sweating it out in an Australian 38 degrees. So, welcome to England, Anne.
But the temperature was not at the forefront of my mind.
Moving house and country is outside the normal sphere of events and requires a certain constellation of people to effect a departure.
The final weeks are stuffed with gatherings of friends and family which in turn are stuffed with photos and presents and special meals and trying to make the most of every moment while dealing with matters from that other space one occupies – the tiny intersection between life in one country and life in another. I feel like I’m in a Diana Wynne-Jones novel where the worlds have overlapped for a brief period and I’m briefly occupying that transparent sliver before the worlds move apart again and I find that I have slid off with the new one.
And then there’s something else entirely. Continue reading
You know the children’s story.
Similarly, the hot, hot land, house and room. We zoom in to the hot, hot desk at which sits a woman with a sheen of fine sweat. Metres away is a cold room where sits her husband. It would be an easy matter to join him, even easier to open the door and allow the cool to waft out. Why doesn’t she? Continue reading
“Why are we leaving?”
The BB’s question was, this time, spurred by a conversation about the logistics of getting our goods moved from Australia to England.
As any mover will know, the timing of such a project is fraught. If your household effects go too early, you have to sleep on the floor of your empty house like a cave person; or acquire, then dispose of, sleeping apparatus; or commute to work from distant friends or family; or find a hotel. Going before your goods, is bravery or foolishness as you entrust the removal and everything else to others.
When confronted with the what-are-we-doing question, I have a variety of responses. Continue reading