During these two years I know that I’ve grown up a lot. I’ve gotten on with it and pushed myself to make new friends, make sure the kids are happy, and adjust to being somewhere completely new with no familiar faces around. I’ve looked after the kids by myself, most of the time, with none of the help I used to have in Sydney with Grandma’s just a short drive away. I’ve forged a career, writing from here, making a living for our family while still being at home with Harper, and for Daisy for each and every School drop off and pick up (well most anyway). My marriage to Rob is stronger than ever – we get to see each other more than we ever used to and we haven’t tried to kill each other. Yet. We have such great friends, a better social life than we ever used to have. The kids are happy.
Life is good. Life is simple.
Not one day goes by where I don’t feel incredibly blessed and grateful for the move down here. The sheer beauty of the town and surrounds and not to mention our seriously fabulous house and garden, fills up my soul with goodness and joy and happiness.
There are times when I’m walking back to the house with firewood in my arms, or from watering or weeding the garden down the side, the sound of the gravel underfoot, where I just stop and pinch myself. This is our house. This is our life. I can hardly believe we took the chance, but I am so fucking glad we did.