Moving day

With exam butterflies in my belly I woke.
I wanted to stay in bed and knit.
I was too busy to feel anything I just had to keep packing, and shifting stuff.
At tea break I sunk into my knitting like a feather bed,
And then kept on packing and shifting stuff.
So much stuff.
Late afternoon, we staggered through the tiny winding lanes pulling a horse box (obviously the car was pulling, just realised how that sounded)
And a HOUSE was waiting for us, a two month stay in a real house before plunging into a muddy January wood.
And a bottle of wine, and firewood piled round the fire.
We baked potatoes in the Aga and wheedled tired children to their beds, a Milly molly mandy story later.
Not for Fred, he went to parcours, and wanted to demonstrate a back flip off the counter on his return at 10pm. I said NO.
Hugh and I were grateful for a beautiful somewhere to stay, we were grateful for our time in the woods and the countless lessons that we have learnt there.
The house feels so HUGE.
In the evening I turned my back on the boxes and carried on knitting.
Knitting, in five minute snatches has kept my sanity this past week, comforting, repetitive, creative soothing. Even when a hundred tasks want to snatch my mind and body, the sofa and the knitting needles are there, just waiting patiently.
And Tansy has some mittens!