it is done....
i am once more ensconced in the room under the eaves in the stone built farm cottage.
saturday the day of 'the move' dawned clear and dry and stayed that way. what can i say ... the weather gods love a nomad!
my earthly possessions are on a tarp and under a tarp, taking up one small corner of the very large (and in the winter months), damp byre. a byre being a more romantic word for a barn for cows! remind me to write about the byre one day...the place has a life of it's own.
i will eventually be moving into my very own mobile home, just not quite yet.
whilst my beloved children were attempting to reposition said van with a 4x4 ...said van journeyed off the hard standing upon which said van sits. said van now sits mired in the mud (this is scotland!) where she awaits the arrival of a tractor to haul her back to... from whence she came. then there are the small yet kind of important details... a water connection, an electricity connection and a septic tank connection."all things come to those who wait"
myself, i am in no particular hurry, winter waits impatient and the house is warm.
our water supply is drawn from our very own, almost famous well, prepare to be amazed and impressed and visit here...
the water is...hmmm...interesting, it changes colour depending on the season. we only drink it boiled or filtered. it is sweet tasting and uncontaminated by man and his chemical cavorting.
farm life, village life... an abundance of the everyday to encounter and experience.