250. Is the Grass Greener? A year and a day before our big move

Friday 17 November 2023

Our balcony and block of flats in Lewisham just over a year ago. 15 November 2022
Home in Scotland 17 November 2023

I’ve just read what I wrote in my journal on this date last year. The focus in my journal was on the stress of waiting for the removal lorry to take things from Lewisham to our storage unit in Folkestone via my mum’s house near Maidstone, for the truck to then be loaded at the storage place ahead of the big move the next day. Fortunately, I can’t quite recall how stressful it was but I know that it was a very tense day. I didn’t really know or think then that we would ultimately be moving to Scotland. I think I just thought that because we weren’t moving out of the London flat that we would still be living in London. I still almost feel that. A friend of mine has been talking about moving house to an area that would be walking distance from the flat in Lewisham. I had in mind that, whoop, we’d actually be able to meet up easily. Before I said any of that, she said what a shame it was I didn’t live there anymore. She’s kind of right, I don’t. I just don’t think I’ve made a complete cut. But maybe I would have if we didn’t still have the flat in London.

Stuff to be collected by movers (and some bigger pieces of furniture) a year ago. 17 November 2022

I now can’t stop trying to picture us this time last year. I am reminded by my journal that I was incredibly stressed about fitting everything into the car and the drive up here and – well, obvious moving house stresses. I also know that exactly a year ago, I submitted the last book I wrote to the first agent. I now have another novel (my fifth) almost ready to start submitting. It has been an unexpected, interesting year. I had an enlightening chat with someone recently, talking about plans for next year. He told me about lots of significant plans he had for 2024. My immediate reaction was something like, “Wow, you’ve got a big year ahead.” He then said something like, “Surely every year is a big year?” We talked about it a bit, but it’s really stuck with me that, yes, every year is important and significant and I have arguably wasted – wasted? – too many years, putting off big things or just not thinking I can do them. The past year for me has been a big year and I hope that the next year of living here will also be a big year, especially where my writing and my cabin are concerned. This time next year, I want to re-read this and to proudly be able to say that the past year was the year I found an agent and built a cabin. If I add any kind of heating to the cabin, maybe I will even be writing this from my cabin in a year … that seems impossible.