Friday June 16, 2006
Any move, no matter how small, is tiring. It can be traumatic, too. Today, though, once we’d transferred the last of our stuff into the new caravan and walked down the short length of track with Dolly firmly held in Graham’s arms to be deposited in her new home, we ended up tired, triumphant, but in no way traumatised.
This really is a much more comfortable caravan than the last and that was made evident immediately as the sun rose higher and higher and the temperature rose with it. Shaded by trees and hedges, the caravan grew no more than pleasantly warm. I made our first lunch in the new kitchen—as I thought, it’s a much easier workplace than the old—and we sat down to eat. And then to siesta.
Dolly wandered round and round her new home, yowling softly, letting us know that, while she does not approve of change, this is quite an interesting one. She had a hard choice when it came to siesta time, between snuggling up with me or with Graham. She compromised on this one, spending the first half with me on the sofa and then toddling off to join Graham.
The outlook isn’t so bad after all. Sitting at the table with my laptop in the living room I look out at a pleasantly green mass of trees and, through a gap occupying perhaps one sixth of the entire view, out to sea. Could be a lot worse. And, instead of looking over at the next caravan, the kitchen window overlooks a natural mixed hedge. Much more to my liking.
I’m happy enough, then, and the arrival of a short note from Sally, acknowledging receipt of the completion funds and promising to phone us next Thursday the moment we are in full possession of the new house, and entitled to pick up the keys, heralded the start of a short period when there’s really nothing for me to do but sit back and enjoy the sunshine.
If there is any negative in the situation at all it’s to do with my knees, which are complaining and clicking away like a pair of old codgers comparing aches and pains. Normally, this presages a change in the weather, most often the onset of rain. Looking at the sky, though, I’m not so sure about the rain. If there’s a change coming I fear it’s a return to heatwave conditions, perhaps even more so than the last burst. No matter. The new caravan is shaded, and I’m in the fortunate position of being able to sit back, put my feet up, and doze the days away.
“What’s that clicking noise?” Graham asked in the precious quiet interval between dinner and bed.
“It’s me knees.”
“Gosh. I hope they don’t feel as bad as they sound.”
“Nah,” I replied. “A little pain never hurt anyone.”