Monday, December 17, 2012

dirty & tea-less

I boiled the kettle, twice. And still I sat down tea-less.
And the ache at the front of my head is back, and I hate to sound like a whine, but you really must know it's not all rosy. Not that I ever pretend it to be, but it seems to be what I focus on, and I want you to know it's not all happy and baking and tidy. It's messy, and I'm tired, and I feel like I have been packing and scrubbing and packing and scrubbing for weeks. 
And trying to bake, and prepare for Christmas, and make teacher gifts, and wrap kids presents, and find places to hide them because the usual places are bare. 

And only getting out a handful of decorations, and even then, returning some to the box because it was messy.

Life is messy, and imperfect, and we killed the Christmas tree and the space where it stood all proud with it's lights, all merry and bright, is now empty, and the carpet there covered in pine needles. 
We lost the scent of pine days ago, probably when the tree stopped drinking, neglected.
Neglected as I packed and scrubbed, and took in the details of this house that I'll miss. Not the house in particular I suppose, just the home we made of it. The memories, that I'll box up, and bring with us.

And we move tomorrow, and I'm excited. Excited for wooden floors, and timber window frames, and the character of the type of houses I've loved and admired and hoped for, for years. Excited to make home, and nest, and live a simpler, less cluttered, less comparing life.

But already aching for the friend leaving that house. A friendship I've treasured for years, even more so in the years we've shared backyards, and onions, and unintended yet cherished chats by the trampoline, and long, drawn-out cups of teas in kitchens when the tinkering has stopped, and company is necessary. I miss her already, and the sound of our kids, and the back-and-forth on those long afternoons. I miss the early-morning tiptoes across dewy grass to pray together (remember those days, my Peach?!), while our children still slept. I already miss Easter egg hunting, and lazy summer barbecues, and days just knowing she's there, even if we don't see each other. 

But I'm excited. For her new, lovely house. For new doors of opportunity being opened for her, and her beautiful family. For the sea change, and the season, and I'm grateful that they're our forever friends, and grateful a three hour drive won't change that.

And I'm trying to remember not to snap at my kids, who don't understand the hugeness, the impending change. I'm trying to celebrate them and where they are at My big girl finished Kindy today, and the thought of her, in school, in that gingham dress every day next year makes my stomach drop with a strange combination of excitement and dread.
And the toothless first grader finishes tomorrow, and is already excited for year 2. And when I tucked him in tonight I studied his freckles and his dark eyes and he talked to me about when he's "twelve like Jack" and the things he will do, and I just hoped he would still love me the way he does now.

And each of these paragraphs could have been a whole blog post. Maybe one day. But for now I need a cup of tea, and a shower. Because the tea will solve the headache issue, and the shower will hide my tears. Sigh. It's been a big month.

Much love


Photo from that day of my bed, and a paper/fabric garland hanging above it. 
It no longer hangs there. It's in a box. With almost everything else. 


  1. Oh, you have brought a tear to my eye...gonna give you a great big hug tomorrow lovely.
    I know that life feels so up and down right at this minute but just know that it won't always be this way. Soon you'll be settled in your new home and making many new wonderful memories that will be cherished for years to come.
    And just remember, you don't have to do this all on your own..we are here for you whenever you need us, okay?
    Love you, get a good nights rest.

  2. That's it! You've started me off now. See you in the morning MwA

  3. Endings and beginnings, sad but happy... and tired! So much going on for you. Remember that moving house is is one of THE most stressful things for a woman and you are doing it in December (my most stressful month). You are doing an amazing job! I just LOVE reading your blog. xx

  4. Oh Em! Such a huge challenge for you moving house around Christmas with three smalls under your wing! Hope today brings sunshine to your morning, and there are opportunities for cups of tea and reflecting on how far you've come! Send you a hug via the web x

  5. tears to my eyes too.
    Remember to breathe lovely. It will all be worth it in the end.

  6. Hi Em. This brings back some of the memories of our move to Queensland eight years ago. It is such a bitter and sweet time...and great change is stressful. Hanging in the gap of having said goodbyes and not yet arriving is the worst...whose idea was it to move at Christmas time? You're a worthier woman than me!

  7. Oh darling Em, you made me cry. Keep strong. I loved every detail you managed to write in this post, possibly my favourite. Not because of your pain but because you described your home with love, your friendship with love and your faith with love. I think praying over the fence with your neighbour early in the morning is precious and is a heaven-on-earth experience. Fellowship is so important. In a couple of weeks, when the contents of this current home are migrating to their new nooks in your new home, and you inject your sweet character into this nest, you will write a post about how clean you feel and excited by all the new possibilities. And I can't leave without saying, I love your bed and bunting. What a lovely pic. Happy christmas Em. xxx Fi xxx

  8. catching up on my favourite blogs post the christmas rush. hope you are settling in well. its not easy having friends move away. but life is easier to keep in touch these days. and forever friends will always be there when you need them.



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