We picked up the keys to our new home today. We still live in the old one, and we'll be here for a while yet I think. But our new home is now accessible to us, and for a period we'll be a bit confused, I suppose, as to which one really counts as 'home'. We've lived where we are for two years; it's a bit small for us but otherwise it's lovely, in a slightly ramshackle sort of way, and I'm sorry to be moving, although I recognise we have to go.
We made lots of changes to our present place, before we moved in and during our first, say, six months here. So, although it is of course indelibly stamped with the marks of its previous residents, it also very much feels like 'our place'. It may take a while for the new place to feel so much ours, I don't know. It's lovely and it suits us, we wouldn't be going there otherwise, but . . .
"Home is where the heart is," they say. Well, spring is a time for hearts and flowers, and maybe that'll help us to settle. The garden will be a project to get our teeth into (or more probably our forks and trowels!), and I think I'll enjoy seeing the woodland behind us leaf up. So I'm sure it will all work - but just at the moment I do find myself wishing I felt a bit more excited than I do.
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