It's the 17th of April. I move out from my house in 12 days time. I start the Grande Tour, soon afterwards. I'll post the date of my first flight in this blog - as soon as I have it.
This is something of a dead day for my. I've been exhausted. Something due to rounds of socialising, sorting, removing, selling and agonising. The hardest thing so far - what to keep, what to give away, what to sell and to trash.
Throwing things away is not very natural for me. So that is the hardest part of the experience. In fact it's almost impossible. I tend to store, hoard, use, reuse and recycle till destruction. So one of the biggest fillers of my time over the past few weeks has just been considering what to do. So much time - vanished on thinking about how to handle the loss of things. I feel like a pilgrim. Or at least very Zen. There is an odd calmness about me as I finally decide what to do with my chattels.
Trying to talk about it makes me feel like everything is drifting away. Serenity (a new life beckons) or denied panic (I'm losing everything)?
At this stage probably both.
The next two weeks are going to extremely busy. I suspect without much to say. There is only so much that can be said about boxes.
Yet I'm sure I'll have plenty of purpose and chat in me once I'm heading for my first of many flights.
Perhaps this is some kind of calm before the storm.