Our move to Daylesford was made in September last year. We nestled into our guest house accommodation and decorated its floors with boxes upon boxes full of our belongings. The shed too was filled with fridge and couch and bedding frames.
Since then we have been at work to create a home.
I am at my best when organised. I don’t like looking for this nor for that. I like to move like a dancer moves, slinking past kitchen, billowing skirt, toes pirouetting pointed and taught. And when I’m asked where something is, I simply extend from below the knee, a leg, an arm, a finger, a wrist, and daintily grab that which I need.
For the moment a dancer I am not, I look at the boxes, and all the projects yet to be done, I hunt for underwear, I chase for books, I stalk for space on a desk much shared. I drown a little, my toes down deep, then rise again, then look again. This time I stare. I focus in on just one thing, one project done. It shines, it’s polished! It’s clean, its ready, it’s made to look so very steady.
Oh Dr Seuss come in I say, enjoy a cup of tea, it’s ready made! I made it just for you my dear, with finished shears I bought not dear. And in the study you shall see one desk for me, one desk for thee, no! one desk for me and one desk for Ralf, one shelf for books one shelf for elves. Desks wooden, varnished and to be installed, shelves wooden smooth with books to bear. One white, two white, three white up there. Above my hair so brown and fair, luscious, long and near Times Square.
There are a lot of projects yet to do, some to be done by me and some to be done by you.
But all is well. All is good. Flight of the Conchords are in the Hood. So just for now, with winters rain our wetland is full once again.