My Life Fits in a 75ft Metal Box

On a journey, the first of the day, to my car with boxes of belongings I heard above me the wonderfully wild cry of the Red Kite.  I looked up and there were a pair, so close I felt as if I reached up I could touch them, I could see every feather, the power of their wings, it was breathtaking.  And one of the things I shall miss about living here.  In ancient times the sight and call of these birds would have been taken as a sign, an omen, whether it be good or bad, on our house move.  Mind you, in ancient times I probably would have shot them down and feasted on them with pickled dumplings,  but there you go.

And so we moved.  Well, not exactly moved, more of a shifted into a pause phase as we have yet to enter a new home.  To and fro, back and forth, all day, willing (and, as the day progressed, far less willing) arms and hands helped us to manoever the last of our many belongings and bits and bobs into the storage unit.  Finally the flat was clear, the car was full to bursting with the last load, and we sat, completely exhausted on the landlady owned bed and watched the distant village fireworks display from the bedroom window.  A might of colour and sounds, whizzes and bangs, swooshes and such an array as to dazzle even the most damp cynic.  Surely another sign?

The day came to a close, creaking as we did, and we pushed the final pieces of our lives into that 75 foot square metal caged room.  Full to the door, literally.  When did we get all this stuff?  Why do we still have it?  How can we have accumulated so much?  And, poetically speaking, the things we would really miss would probably have fitted into a small bag, leaving us with a freedom to sell and donate to charity every other thing we had.  Oh to have such courage!

The weekend was spent at the Holiday Inn, Maidenhead.  Never has a hot bath been so readily received by so many aching muscles.  Never has beans on toast tasted so good. 
The deal was 2 nights for the price of one.  That Saturday night I would have gladly paid double just to have a chair to sit upon, a bed to lie in and a TV to stare blankly at. 

Maybe those Red Kites and the firework display were a carrier of good tidings, maybe our move will be a great adventure.  Maybe these next 40 nights between homes will be fun.  All we can do is wait and see.