I wonder when we’ll stop calling the new house ‘new’?

It’s feels like home now. I think. It’s definitely grown familiar, become part of the patchwork of our lives.

We’ve changed so much, yet nothing is finished. Where there’s paint on the walls, there’s no carpet underfoot. Where we’ve built shelves and bought furniture there’s an endless expanse crying out for those all important finishing touches. Temporary measures have taken on a permanence that makes me wonder if we’ll ever plough through our ‘to do’ list and call this place ‘done’.

A few rooms remain completely untouched. The attic, our bedroom. Sometimes I struggle to sleep, adrift in a sea of chaos that continues to swarm with upturned moving boxes and endless posessions that have no home of their own. Still. One year on.

Were we right to move? Was the move we made the right one? Are we happier, more fulfilled?

I don’t know. Maybe. Probably. Earlier this year, I stumbled across a quote from Jeanette Winterson that immediately resonated with me. The words continue to swim inside my mind whenever I find myself questioning the way our lives are unfolding.

‘When we make a change, it’s so easy to interpret our unsettledness as unhappiness, and our unhappiness as a result of having made the wrong decision. Our mental and emotional states fluctuate madly when we make big changes in our lives, and some days we could tight-rope across Manhattan and other days we are too weary to clean our teeth. This is normal. This is natural. This is change.’

There’s a lot I miss about Exeter and there are things I dislike about Bristol. Watching the city slowly reveal itself to me over the last 12 months has been a bit like falling in love again. The real test was always going to be finding room in our hearts for its flaws and imperfections. You have to open your eyes to its harsh reality, see the city stripped back, bare, before you can say ‘It’s ok, I like you just the way you are’.

Life isn’t perfect, but I wasn’t expecting it to be. I doubt this is our forever home, but I don’t need it to be. I could lament the fact we don’t live closer to the park, pine for the picturesque school run of days gone by, or agonise over ‘better’ houses a few streets away. I’m too busy throwing down roots though, because I love this place, this house, our home.

I suspect I’ll love it even more when we finally, finally finish unpacking. Maybe by this time next year? I live in hope.

Read our Exeter Ending here and more Bristol Beginnings here, here and here.

Love Audrey xxx

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