Blueberries are getting bluer

The rumours are true. Moving is hugely stressful. And we don't even have a moving date, let alone the keys. We're taking each day as it comes - the pattern for the last two weeks has been low, high, low, high, low, weekend, high, low, high, low, no word, weekend. Lottery tickets have been purchased. Frown lines have deepened. Celebrations for my new job (I've been made permanent which is all very exciting!) have taken a back seat.  I've stopped planning the rooms for our future house. Many a blue word has been uttered about the situation. 

No plans can be made because of the unknown. When the weekend arrives, we find ourselves adopting a life of leisure which is something we're not accustomed to. All projects are on hold. All things craft are stored away - either at my parents or in our storage unit. The garden has been ignored. My only source of creativity - cooking, photography and writing. It's immensely frustrating. 

As I took a stomp (for they are no longer strolls) around the garden, I walked past the three twigs that make up our blueberry bush. And had to do a slight rewind, for they had little spheres of blue on them. Proper blueberries - like those from a supermarket - growing plump in the sun. All 13 of them picked and consumed with much discussion, grateful to talk about something other than the move. The Olympics have also been an absolute blessing. 

If we get the keys to the chocolate box cottage, I will weep with joy. I will sob when we say goodbye to the flat that we have poured our life and soul into. I just wish that those buying it could understand that it has been a labour of love and is something that they will be custodians of for the future. I sincerely hope that 4 months of discussion, negotiation and paperwork doesn't come to nothing and we have to start again.