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OK, so I’m not really starting OVER, but a new look for us has been long overdue, no? There are a few things I think will change on the blog in this new season. Thank goodness the new face occurred at the hover and click of an icon. Now just for a few nips and tucks and we’ll have settled nicely in our new home.

As seasons go I am also getting ready to unfluff my cardies and to squeeze my million and three scatter cushions into a plastic bag and suck the air out of them. It’s moving time. Even though I’m moving to one of the most beautiful places in South Africa, I am not stoked. I love my place. It’s quiet within and noisy outside, it’s a roomy loft that is perfectly cool in summer and warm and cosy in winter. My bath has a skylight in it’s sloped ceiling, and if I stand on the edge of the tub, I can poke my whole torso out of it and look at the stars. I have twinkly lights installed, sole claim to the remote and the priceless privilege to naughtily run out the shower if I forgot something in my room sans towel or fear. My kitchen is open-plan for movement and chats. I have a guestroom with a cupboard crammed full of sketch books, paints and craft materials. Most importantly, I have room for my head to empty itself.

The saddest part is that I have only been able to implement about 2% of the dreams I had when at first I took my best friend to view the place. The day we fell in love. I think Bob Dylan has accompanied me in every move from the very first, through break-ups and lonely days. Who better than Dylan and Mr Melancholy himself, Bill Murray (two of the loves of my life) to play us out. Here’s to new beginnings, new loves, new projects and bitter-sweet memories. Good-bye home.

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