The "stuff" is coming!

I am waiting for Abigail to return from her first day at school, which is tomorrow, before I say anything about the whole school adjustment thing...

In the meantime, we were told last week that our container had cleared (so the zebra and warthog skulls made it through!!)

So this coming Saturday, we are moving to our new rental house in the morning, and the container is being delivered in the afternoon.

My first reaction at the prospect was one of great relief - the various hazards and possibilities have all been avoided - container going off course to India, container sinking, container being intercepted by Somali pirates... - neither did it arrive far too early, nor has it kept us waiting for two months after our arrival... all pretty perfect. When we waved it off back then it seemed very unlikely we would really see it ever again...

My second reaction was an unexpected, but definite, sinking feeling. When we packed everything into that huge iron box, on 14th June (my birthday), thankfully I was out all day as it was my Kampala school trip day. So I got home that afternoon to find our house bare - red cement floors completely exposed, cracks and all. Each bedroom had a corner full of suitcases, and there was the small cane sofa and a table and chairs - but otherwise, bare walls, no books, no pictures, no curtains... The kitchen cupboards only had a set of plates I had borrowed, one saucepan, one sharp knife, and not much else. Instead of being awful and difficult, it was freeing! So much open, undemanding space! White clear walls - it was like opening up your head and clearing out all the rubbish! You might remember the last scene in Out of Africa, when Karen Blixen, about to leave Kenya, is sitting elegantly in her jodhpurs by her fireplace with just a few roped-up boxes around, saying, "We could have lived like thees olways" or something. I had the same sensation.

When we were moving around the US of course it was different, but still, living out of a suitcase with only two pairs of shoes and, OK, quite a lot of clothes. Then we moved into our little Gloucester house in mid August, but still only with our suitcases. Since we knew that we wouldn't be here for very long, we did not furnish the house more than with bare essentials - or with stuff I knew we would definitely take to a bigger house. I got beds for the children, a cupboard for their clothes, a washing machine and a fridge, a table and four chairs, and a TV (yes, essential - for watching the news, of course!) - and a futon for Dan and me to sleep on (all the above second-hand let it be noted!)

So the house still looks pretty bare, apart from the children's bedroom. Every evening Dan and I turn the futon in the sitting room from sofa to bed (we need it to function as both), climb in and watch the news and late-night TV, drinking sherry (yay!!), and we feel as though we are on holiday, staying in a hotel room! It is actually so nice. Living without all our stuff has been a good kind of limbo, a break from it all. Do we really want it all back?

But then again... My third reaction has been "bring it bring it bring it!" - I can't wait to have a cafetiere (French press) again and make real coffee. And my own comfy bed after the very firm futon mattress. My long mirror so that I can actually check my appearance before going out.
The toaster! No more toasting bread under the grill! My whisk and masher and cake tins! My watercolours!

So it turns out that I am not an ascetic after all. But I really haven't minded playing at it for a couple of months.