I can’t blame it all on Christmas so I suppose it was just me not knowing how to write about the weird experience of being back here in Cornwall, yet in such a different life.
We managed to move into the main house at the end of October and got stuck-in to painting walls and finding places to put everything.
Just as life started to feel a little normal and calm…..we decided to get a dog.
On November 15th we went up to Surrey to view a young collie who had arrived in the Val Valgrays rescue centre from Spain of all places. How strange is that?
It all happened so quickly and I know we made a lot of mistakes like, not finding out if he was good with cats (not) or asking if he was used to being in a house (from his anxious chewing the first few weeks I think he wasn’t) but after a very short introduction we ended up driving back to Cornwall with Zero, a Spanish border collie. Some kind of instinct leads you on but it’s a big decision and I don’t know how rational it was – more emotional really.
All the time I had planned to spend on organising life, preparing for work, reconnecting with friends, writing the blog was immediately totally swallowed up by the need to bond with and find ways to live with Zero.
He’s lovely of course. He is a good one. We were lucky. And I am walking much more than I have since the Camino.
He stops me worrying too much about what next? Everyone wants to know how Pep is coping with his first Cornish winter but really he seems ok. I however am reeling from the shock of finding myself back in Cornwall, with no set routine, in my new/old house, with changed friendships, in the endless rain.
And the boot is now on the other foot – I am the one in my home country, speaking my language, with responsibility to help someone feel at home. You’d think I would know how to do it after my experience in Catalunya. But interestingly, it isn’t that easy.
Be open, share everything, don’t try to control everything, be patient! I am trying.
Lovely Cornwall – beautiful, fresh, wild, friendly, ancient, stormy, mystical, familiar.
I am here again.
What now?
You may need to change the blog name to the Cornish Catalan way…
You should write down everything Pep finds funny xxx
Yes I am going to do a piece on how Cornwall and the UK strikes him. I always debate on whether to change the blog title but it means too much to me – it is more than a place – more a state of being. And of course I still am shifting between the two. Lovely to hear from you here XXX
Great to hear from you, Kate. Hang in there. Where you are is where you’re supposed to be.
Thanks Rich – that is a good thought to hold onto. And of course Cornwall is lovely and one of my favourite places in the world to be. I look forward to hearing how it goes for you two when you get here. There is always a mix of feelings I think.
Everyone I know who has lived away from ‘home’ for an extended time has talked about the strangeness of the old familiar coming up against the new familiar (chose which is which for you). It seems you just have to jump and stay there.
Maybe repotting a plant is a good simile; there is a period of bewildered stillness before your roots spread and you can grow on again.
Perhaps that would be a better title for the post – The Strangeness of Coming Home. I can do another one like that. Yes I am a plant being repositioned in the garden – back where I was put before but with slightly different conditions. My roots will take hold I am sure once this bloody rain stops. Right now I am in danger of being washed away.
Hi Kate,
What an interesting turn you have taken! Zero looks like a lively addition to your adventures. We have a border collie named Tia – she is 14 1/2 years old now so not so spry but still a grand companion. I hope Zero gets accustomed to your cat and life settles down a bit. Enjoy the new/old experience for all you can. xoxo
Hello Susan Lovely to hear from you. Yes life carries on taking surprising turns. Zero is wonderful but I had forgotten how much energy young dogs have. He’s off like a rocket when he gets off the lead. Kate X