This what happens when things are going well. They stop going well in spectacular fashion. I have just received news that I have to leave my little cottage.
The owners are selling.
I can't tell you how insecure I feel. I'm in a state of flux and anxiety. I love my house. I love my neighbourhood. I love the bright red flanders poppies that peek through the lavender and the ti-tree dripping with white blossoms. I love the vege patch that Brett built for me at some expense.
I love my huge garden and the wonderful meals we've had in it. My cat adores this place. She has a special tree. She will be sad to lose her tree.
I need a fairy godmother to buy this house for us.
I am scared and shell-less. This is no longer my home. I am in transition again and bloody terrified. Don't hurt me now. I'll bleed buckets.
Aaahh! Your house is also my mountain sanctuary. I believe I am feeling your discomfort, 'though obviously to a much less degree.
ReplyDeleteI've been trawling the web for alternatives and have found some lovely places. Don't fret little one, we will always have a mountains home for you to come to:-) It may be problematic that I am being seduced by a claw-foot tub in a cottage in Leura...polished floorboards, cathdral ceilings, large yard for nimbarow...$230/wk...wait, -a I getting happy?....think I am!
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