Pieces of my past

I have been earmarked by the universe to live a life filled with major plot twists.

Some big decisions were made over the last few days. The biggest can only be told over a glass of wine.

In the meantime I need a Bex and a lie down.

The bloggable stuff included me parting with pieces of my past.

I am finding it little wrenching to turf furniture that has been with me for decades.

But it must be done, so took a deep breath and started with my dining chairs. They were bought from an antique store in Enmore about 30 years ago and were looking a little bit ragged around the edges after being chewed by my pet rabbit Frodo.

But I loved those old wooden things, despite the fact we never used them any more because the youngest said they were dusty and made her itchy. Instead we eat every meal perched at the breakfast bar on metal stools.

I pulled them out from the table and put them in the middle of the living room for a day, trying to work up the backbone to put them onto the nature strip.

One of the bonuses of living on a busy road is that my nature strip is a prime viewing area for thousands of cars every day. So I figure I’ll put something out there every time it stops raining and hopefully find new homes for it that way.

The chairs went within an hour or two.

The wire stand, planter and coffee table I put out yesterday were less desirable and are still languishing on the grass. I may need to awkwardly shuffle them back inside this afternoon.

I will really struggle to get rid of anything that once belonged to my grandmother because I remember where each and every piece sat in her house during my childhood holidays.

But my new apartment isn’t very big and none of it will fit, so I’m pondering that dilemma.

I also feel a powerful need to start fresh and shed the weight of the past.

I gave my ex a lady lamp and a few other knick-knacks when he dropped over on Saturday. He asked if he could have an oriental rug from our former marital home too, but that ship sailed many years ago – I tossed if after Charlie developed IBS.

My ex looked quite crestfallen. I felt like a bit of a heel, but nine years later is a bit late to be asking for stuff.

Next time he requests something I am going to tell him it was FLUNG during the fury of the early years of our separation, while I was still spitting chips. I am much more balanced about such things now, but the possessions are long gone.

And now I must push on with another big week.

I hope you survived the wild weather over the weekend. So much squelch!

Song of the day: REM “Breathe”