Duna is on heat.
It is not the best timing but must be dealt with amongst all the thousands of other issues that are bubbling around in my life. I am trying to clear the house and yet all available time goes on helping to renovate an outdoor shed to make it ready to receive those things that I will leave in Cornwall. As with most jobs this one has expanded to fill what time is available so other things like packing boxes and painting my house and organising paperwork….have been squeezed into little corners in my days.
Today the electrics were switched on! And I have been sanding the floor. A kitchen area is slowly taking shape. It is a palace and once the chairs and tables and boxes have moved in…..they should be very comfortable!
Meanwhile, it rains. The dogs are bored and wet and they can’t go into the new space because of paw marks. Duna has returned to basics – Feeding, Fighting and Fucking. All her pent up energy is focused on these three activities. She has chosen Bonnie as her rival to growl at and attack whenever they are in a confined space together. Blue is her object of desire in spite of the difference in age
Imagine your 16 year old nephew trying it on with your partners grandmother and you have the picture. Blue is deaf and almost blind and has arthritis and to be honest was never interested in sex when she was young. But now she has an admirer who won’t leave her alone – it’s hard to know when to intervene – Blue sometimes stands in front of Duna waving her tail around invitingly. But when the inevitable happens she will snarl and snap.
I am waking every single morning around 5am and ….ping….the worries start. I have never suffered from sleeplessness before. Now it is a familiar companion. Everything that can possibly go wrong is imagined in the worst possible light. I won’t get the van log book back from DVLA in time to leave before Christmas. It will snow or rain torrents all the way through France. Duna will go crazy in the car when she sails from Plymouth to Roscoff this week. The removal men will damage the piano – or the piano will damage the removal men. Next week I will die under the anaesthetic at the hospital or end up with some awful infection. The person renting my house will never leave. We won’t find anywhere to rent in Catalunya that takes three dogs. Why did I do X? Why didn’t I do Y?
It’s as if I think I can avoid all problems by anticipating them. But as the days go by it is obvious that the opposite is true. It is harder and harder to make good decisions in the face of tiredness. One part of me thinks this is an interesting experience but another is shouting louder and louder ‘surely there must be an easier way to do this?’ How difficult can it be to move to another EU country?
Then I take a step back and think of all the others who I know are going through stressful times at the moment. It feels like life is winding up the pressure – perhaps for some good reason that it beyond my understanding. I may feel like a mouse on a wheel and I do want to find a way to jump off and play a little but at the moment these things must be seen through and, if possible, I must enjoy the ride.
There are things to laugh at – Duna met another hormonal female on a walk and they danced around each other happily swapping smells
and things to sadly smile over. One comment from a ‘friend’ was…why are you doing all this, you don’t belong here any more!
Moving away causes ripples all around. Strange times.
Any suggestions for anxiety relief gratefully received!
Sweet peaceful music, a moment every day you dedicate to quiet, and podcasts for 5am. I’m not kidding it works a charm. I personally find the BBC’s Coast and Country and also their Scotland Outdoors perfect. They are interesting enough that I stop fussing about, well, anything, but – I don’t want to say dull – but uneventful enough that I just doze right back off again. Honestly, works an absolute charm.
And you do still belong there. Honestly, some people are so unable to think. Of course your relationship to the place will change, but that would have happened if you’d stayed too. Silly woman that one. I’ve been ‘away’ from TO now for nearly 9 years, and we still belong. She knows not of what she speaks.
It’ll get done. The great thing about a car trip, is that whatever the weather or dogs, it gets done eventually, really it does.
Here’s a stupid question though, why can’t you live in the fabrica? Is the problem that there is no garden there either? I am sure that you’ve thought of it, I was just wondering.
You’ll get through it all. Don’t worry.
Make a little time to see people before you go too…..I should send you a simple graphic we did for the boat to help us prioritize when we were leaving for that outing….I’ll see if I can find it.
Sympathies. Been there, done that, it’ll all get done in the end.
OH, and hire teenage boys to do some of the brute labour, they are keen, don’t cost much and are often reasonably nice to have around. They could use the cash too.
Vermut? And that “friend” proved that he or she really isn’t. Somethings that happen in life show us that. It must be in the stars because I can’t find a minute to myself lately either. I thought I would have a great virtual coffee post today but alas – every minute has been spent doing for others and will be spent until around 9:30 tonight doing for others. Considering I have been running since 5:00 a.m., that is too late to start up anything at all. But here I am complaining, when you have all that to worry about! And when you are concerned about other souls, it is very different than material possessions. Things will work out whether you fret or not. But fretting does sometimes get more done. Now, where did I put that vermut?
First off, from your post of 27.10.11…..don’t worry about the Seville oranges: I can always send you some. Alternatively, Mercadona do a delish “naranja amarga” marmalade so that I’ve stopped making my own.
As for your other on 31 Oct. you got some good advice there from Orenata and I can’t add to it. You have all the tools to do it, I’m sure – you’ve just forgotten in the maelstrom of “to-do” things. The stress is double for you, moving to another country but it’ll all get done.