I had to laugh, one of the removalists made the above spelling error when describing the contents of the box he just packed, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was inspired by the destination. Just in case anyone in Adelaide doesn’t realise it, the rest of Australia thinks that every second person that lives here (yes, here –I got in to Adelaide this morning) is a serial killer. Let me just put that falsity to rest, I’ve encountered at least nine people today, and I’m pretty sure none of them were serial killers. In fact one complete stranger smiled at me. Or is that what serial killers do?
Anyway, the Adelaide hills are looking particularly beautiful at the moment, and the weather is sensational. As I bit into my fresh-picked strawberry flavoured strawberry (as compared to the styrofoam flavoured strawberries I normally encounter) and I cradled the bag of crispy new apples, bought from a stall on the side of the road, I could see that there were going to be some real benefits to this move. Not to mention all the catching up I’m going to be doing with long-neglected Adelaide friends.
So, now I can get back to editing the novel that I promise will be out in eBook format before Christmas. And as for Jim, well I don’t know any Jim, not anymore. At least not any whole Jims. Pieces of Jim, now that’s another story…
…for a while.
I’d like to say everything is packed, but it’s not. I’d like to say the house is clean, but it’s not. At least the garden is just one sweep away from being finished, but it’s still not finished. Yet as horribly badly as I’m running behind on all my lists, I’m sure I’ll get there in time for the removalists to pick it up and for us to be on our way come Saturday morning. I guess this is what they call faith?
So what wisdom has my move imparted?
- Do not save your fancy coffee, drink it when you want, for one day you will find yourself having only a week to finish the lot because it will not survive two days in a hot car.
- As much mess as what you think you have, double it. And then when you wrap it up in butcher’s paper, double it again!
- Possums are not cats, nor do they like being treated as such.
And what about WriMoFoFo? Well, that might be in need of a little faith too. I think I’m still going to hit the target of 15,000 words in 4 weeks, but let’s just say that well over half of those will need to be written while in Adelaide for me to make it. I’m sure when I am not drowning in boxes, paper and cleaning products that I’ll be able to move my focus back where it belongs; FreeCell. Followed by some of that writing thing.
But from my swirling mess of stress and packing and unreturned phone calls a wonderful little buoy of sanity and comfort has been right here. The blog has meant that even in my craziest of moving moments I have always written at least some words. So thank you for reading, and thank you for your encouraging words of support!
So, until next post (from Adelaide), happy writing!
There is an upside to leaving Melbourne (besides all the benefits of going to Adelaide) and that is catching up with so many people in Melbourne who I haven’t seen for ages. Now that my time here is limited, people are grabbing spots in my calendar and making me feel very loved indeed!
This got me thinking… It is kind of like when the last Grand Prix was on in Adelaide and nearly everyone in the city attended. At the time it was the biggest Grand Prix in Big Prix history –all because it was everyone’s last chance to see it before we lost it (or had it stolen some might correct, but let’s not go there, I think the wound is finally healing and I don’t want to rip the scab off so soon before my return).
So why do we hold off doing stuff until we nearly can’t? And more importantly, can I get this strange human tendency to work for me? This week I’m going to see if I can fool myself into thinking that I can only edit my novel until the end of November and not beyond that. I might even try to commit myself to something for December to make it true.
Sometimes we need a threat to our Grand Prix before we actually do anything about it, but that is a dangerous way to live. If you don’t do something until you almost can’t, you might just find out that you are really good at it, or that you love it, just before you can’t do it anymore. Don’t wait for anything if you don’t have to; catch up with your friends before they move, write your novel before you retire and don’t worry about who got the damn Grand Prix, it’s just a noisy car race anyway!