After weeks of tension and frantic preparations, followed by a few choice days of insanity spent packing, moving and unpacking, I dragged myself through two days of work in a stupour of exhaustion. I felt deeply unsure and unsettled, the house feeling big and alien around me.
Then came Wednesday, the French mid-week-no-school day, and my own mid-week-day-off work (yes, I know, pretty cool isn’t it?). I managed to stay in bed for an extra half hour this morning (ignoring my children’s insistent calls for breakfast), pottered around a bit, and eventually baked a cake. Tonight, as I hear the dishwasher chugging in the otherwise silent house, I recognise the first signs of feeling at home…
So that’s it, for me, the first cake usually helps me feel at home somewhere new, but what about you? What are your own rituals?
A very cake-sweet French song for today: Abd Al Malik – mon amour
PS. Good to be back in blogland!
This post is for the owners of all the hands which made for lighter work through this move: Annie, Caroline, Maighread, Nathalie, Poute, Nathalie the second & Aude. Thank you all so much.