Well, its the last day of Kmans holiday. He'll be back at work tomorrow but I wont be - I'll be ringing positions I've applied for, going out and cold canvessing, calling and resume polishing. I'll also be house cleaning, training horses, tending animals.....Back to my Real Full time job.

Ive been lying to you. Couldnt you tell? You know I hate lying. But with everyone saying how 'relaxed' I am I thought I just had to come clean...Its not that your wrong, I AM relaxed, but Im also bursting with excitement, for so many reasons, like a little kid thats got a secret she's not allowed to share...

All thats left me feeling a little disjointed....Id say the last time I felt like this was when we first moved to Swallow Hill, (where these pics are from) it made me nervous with its immensity, tingled me with its whispers. It was more alive than any place Ive ever lived - not just the massive, two storey house, but every blade of grass and fibre of earth on its five acres - it was coherant.

Understand, it was not a fancy place. Despite the long circular driveway in front of the house and its impressive size, it wasnt artistic or architechturally (is that a word?) inspired at all. It was just a big brick slab, in those brownish colours that reminded me of housing commision. And a weird smell that reminded me of Korea..

But she felt like mine. I impulsively unpacked and created MY room - something I hadnt had in awhile - a room that has a mosaic of posters and smaller pics of my favourite scenes, including the wild 'Castles of illusion'. Also essential to 'my room' is a rug hung on the ceiling to cover the light, so the light in the room is always soft. The rug has a picture of horses crashing through a stream that lights up beautifully when displayed like this.
I have not unpacked those things here. Even though we've amost been here for a year.
If I went back and looked at Swallow Hill now, I could not imagine what she looked like when we moved in. I know there was various crap strewn around, wire and blocks of concrete as well as old machinery, piles of wood or dead trees and huge gaps in all the fences.

Beginning nervously, as if someone was watching over my shoulder, I began to work on my property. Id never had one before - It was quite a challenge. Soon the fence repair that once took all day now too 5 minutes and I strode confidently over every inch of soil where once Id stumbled and crawled. I remember my leisurely routine of collecting kindling in the evenings - if I was well prepared I would have lugged a nights worth of wood to the bay at the side of the house and brought a fair amount upstairs(no easy feat) as well. Then after the horses were in bed eating dinner Id wander about with my wheel barrow and a small bucket, collecting tinder, and small and large kindling. I always preferred to start my fire without paper or fire lighters, if possible. Even though we were near a main road and I could hear the trains - I still can from here! - there was always such peace at that time. The darkness falling, the rhythmic and comforting sound of horses chewing, the wood breaking between my hands and the promise of the fire's beauty and warmth later on. I still have a fireplace, but its an enclosed slow combustion. The old one was an open fire...

When we first moved there, I was that jumpy, that nervy, I used to leap out of bed in the morning to the sound of Kmans alarm. Even though I had no where to go, I was that trained in the response that I still felt the need to rise, run.
I suppose thats how I feel now....I never expected it to affect me so badly! For the response to become so ingrained once more. And this little slice of hell is not my beloved Swallow Hill....

The weather today is so similar. Its torture without being able to climb up into my office widow and see it, really see it, and invite it into my home. Im sure the animals find it torture too...Moving from all that space to this dinky slice.
I think this might be the first time Ive felt disgruntled about my chosen job. First day jitters I guess.

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