I've been making a bit of an effort lately to eat well and lay off the crap somewhat. Nothing earth shattering just a nudge in the right direction.
But is very hard to go through the physical and emotional endurance that is packing without some additional sugar.
I bought these lollies weeks ago when I was out with Amy and Ellen. We watched the lolly dude in the window of Suga in Royal arcade in town making his hard sweets, marvelled at his itty bitty pictures and then bought a bag of the little fruit flavoured ones. Amy had the occasional one, but lollies don't really figure much in our lives so they stayed in the cupboard just waiting for me to bottom out.
In between stacks of books and papers I found some old artworks of Amy's.
I think the one on the right may have been done back when we were living in Thailand, when Amy was 2 or 3. I wrote the caption based on her description. I remember this phase of her drawing well and our whole Thailand trip was characterised by these big head people. Every night when we ate out she would draw furiously while D and I watched the world go by and then she'd give the pictures to the waiters and kitchen staff. She was quite the celebrity and the Thais found her astonishing. I loved her drawings, but I really loved waiting for the captions, a little window onto where the image had come from and what it meant to her.
The ones on the left must post date Wil, though it can't be by much since the camping scene evokes a trip we did when I was about seven months pregnant. I think most if not all the drawing in the top one was done by me (maybe?), but I love how she's characterised it as our family, and Wil as the little one and herself as the medium sized one. So I guess these are about 2 years old. So much development between these 2 stages (right and left), and since then there's been an equally rapid development. Amazing.
Yesterday I finally finished packing up the studio. That's a bit of a watershed for me, both because it is the room with the most stuff to pack, but more importantly because it represents the biggest emotional wrench. I can't explain it in rational terms alone, but the feeling of being separated from the accumulated materials and tools of my craft is quite anxiety provoking. And of course the second I had finished I found something that needed repair and I'd packed up every single needle and spool of thread!
But I am extremely glad to have it done, and to be able to move on to concentrate on other tasks since time is rapidly diminishing. Aside from the masses of packing still to do, and cleaning out and just plain old cleaning, and lots of last minute socialising and goodbyes, I am trying to prepare for remote working. D is similarly snowed with work and commitments and on Tuesday we are booked for our final inspection for our certificate of occupancy, so he is also very focused on silicone seals and downpipes and small touch ups. Oh and he's just realised that perhaps the trailer may need some structural work to make the distance.
Six more sleeps till Wil and I say goodbye to D and Amy, and 11 more sleeps till Wil and I are winging it up to join them. So near, and yet so far.