She's Leaving Home
Rose, my baby, is moving into a new flat... and this time she’s taking her books. After a year of renting a room in a house (albeit one belonging to a fireman), Rose is setting up home with her boyf, the lovely Si. I’m really proud that my daughters are capable, independent women who have had the courage to make tough decisions; Lily’s path, carving out a life in the city where she went to university has taken her through some hard and lonely times to reach a place of happiness. Rose, too, had to make tough choices when she struck out on her own. I hope I’ve encouraged the girls; certainly I’ve always believed that the sooner you make your own life the more you’ll get out of it. But when Rose asked if I could bring her books with me when Tom and I head back to help with her move, I realised that my daughters had finally left home.
Books have always been special and I know how much Rose is looking forwards to having hers around her, but it still felt strange packing them up and seeing the chapters in Rose’s early life laid out before me; A Necklace of Raindrops, The Dancing Bear, Oryx and Crake, A Book of Middle English, Rough Guide to Tanzania, countless others too – such evocative reminders.
I’ve always been very protective of my own books (okay, you could accuse me of being a bit anal about them). I’m extremely careful with new books (I’m one of those people who never breaks the spine or folds the corners of the pages over) and I like them to be arranged in a particular order (no, not alphabetical – I have my own system, thank you). So when Tom and I moved in to our first home one of the first things Dad did for us was to fit some gorgeous ash book-cases into the recesses either side of the chimney breast. Tom looked at the book-cases, squeezed my hand and said, ‘I’m really looking forwards to putting our books out and seeing them all mixed together’. Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to wipe the look of horror off my face before he saw it, but at that stage I really felt quite faint at the all mixed together bit. There was quite a lot of reassuring to do and a few ruffled feathers to smooth after that, but we got there in the end.
We’re still trying to leave our own home – or at least the old one, although no one seems interested at the moment. In the meantime a series of ‘possibles’, including the pretty stone cottage in the middle of nowhere, have sold, so today we’re off with Ma to see what else is out there. After a wet, cold summer we’ve had some sunshine and it looks glorious out there today. Who knows what we’ll find?
Cardiff Half Marathon Training
Runner’s World SmartCoach Programme Week 11 = 24 miles. Lots of travelling to do over the next few days so I think the schedule is going to take a battering – hope my legs don’t forget what to do.
Image is 'Abstract 1' by Tom Tomos