It won’t have escaped the notice of the handful of regular readers to this blog that I have been having somewhat of a blog sabbatical over the last few weeks. The reasons for this have been many and varied. It’s been a bit of an emotional time returning to the normal and the familiar after a year away and I’ve found it harder than I expected. After all, we’ve been living in a little bubble for the last twelve months not needing to make many decisions beyond the day to day perusing of the guidebooks and maps deciding on where to go and what to do. Simples. Few stresses, other than narrow roads and manic drivers.
Coming back though, alongside seeing family and friends, I knew we would have to confront a few things that, well, needed confronting! Our intention when we left on our adventure, over a year ago, was to see it as a lifestyle change and something we would continue to do for a few years at least if not longer. However, being cautious by nature we didn’t burn all our bridges by selling up in the UK and getting rid of all our stuff before we left. Oh no, that ‘just in case’ refrain was always in the back of our minds when deciding what to do. Even though we had donated and given away lots of our possessions before we left we still kept a significant amount of it stored in a container whilst our house is rented out, you know, ‘just in case’.
‘Just in case’ living in a small space got too much and we wanted a UK base to return to. ‘Just in case’ we fell out of love with the lifestyle and wanted to resume ‘normal’ life again. ‘Just in case’ we both fell out with each other completely and we could enjoy a mud fight over who was having what on our separation (that’s not going to happen by the way as poor Tim signed up to a life sentence a very long time ago)! You get the picture.
So, I’m back here again after a whole year still talking about ‘stuff’. Stuff, stuff, stuff. I won’t be offended if you skip over this post, bored, having read my musings before about ‘stuff’ because, frankly, I am bored too. If ‘procrastination’ was an Olympic sport I’d be lining up there in Tokyo, 2020! But, procrastinate, justify, philosophise, reason, dillydally, put off, postpone, defer, call it what you will, a decision had to be made about what to do with our ‘stuff’. End of.
So it all went.
Just like that.
We called Dorothy House, a local charity which has provided excellent end of life care in the past to Rita, one of our very good friends, and to Eve our elderly neighbour, and they kindly took the whole lot yesterday in one fell swoop. The money we save in storage costs will now be invested in our future life instead of continually paying for our past life.
The key to the container has been returned and a weight has been lifted. We don’t have to revisit the ‘stuff’ question again. Ever! Draw a line Jane. Draw. A. Line. __________!
Until next time!