A Process of Adjustment

The dog is finding it hard to settle. She paces around after me, looking slightly anxious. There's nothing wrong with her, she just has to adjust. She has to find the comfy, sleepy spaces where she feels safe and calm and she just hasn't done it yet, that's all.

Same goes for the rest of us. All this new stuff is fun and exciting, but sometimes you want old stuff - a touchstone of familiarity. I'm finding those touchstones in weird places. Hearing my Mum's voice on the phone is one. Riding my trusty old bicycle is another. Making the spare bed up with the linen we use at the beach. Making chilli jam or stirring the bechamel for macaroni cheese. I've realised that things don't make a house a home, although they make it look right. It's the life you lead inside your house that makes it your home, I think; the people you love and share it with, the meals you cook to nourish and welcome, the washing and cleaning and laughing at the dog attacking the hoover. The conversations and parties and moments of peaceful quiet.

We'll make this house a home; it's getting better with every day. It's just a process of adjustment. And in the meantime, we'll make it up as we go along...