New pastures

We're in!

Today I closed the door on the old flat for the last time. It felt quite odd looking around the empty space, and posting the keys back through the letterbox knowing I will never see the inside of it again. I hope the new tenant likes it as much.

We had some good times there but I know I will end up loving the new place. It doesn't quite feel like home yet, but already I'm loving how much room we have, and I'm really enjoying being able to cook in the new kitchen. We're close to friends and Dad, we have some great places nearby and we can still be in town in a 30-minute walk - all in all we're much better off. I know Simon is happier being here all day than he was in the old place. Oh, and I'm hoping my bike will get more use, having discovered how dusty it was when I rode it here yesterday...

In other happy news, we have a new person at work who lives in Cambridge and I've discovered that car-sharing is a wonderful thing! Not only do I no longer have the guilt about driving all the way to Bury by myself, but I'm saving petrol and the journey feels twice as fast with someone to talk to on the way. Who knows, I may even get some knitting in on the weeks I'm a passenger. Score!

On being married and moving house

One of the most common questions I've been asked in the last month is "so what's it like being married?" - to which I always reply: "it's just the same as before, except I have a ring on my finger." And that's exactly as it should be, I think.

Simon and I tied the knot on August 8, and it already feels like a lifetime ago. We had an amazing day celebrating with all our friends and family; everyone seemed to have a good time and the whole thing just felt completely right. And the honeymoon was awesome too - the most relaxed we've both been in a long time. I wish we didn't have to come back to reality!

But here we are, and after 18 months in our lovely flat we've decided to move, because we're finally fed up with sacrificing space in order to live right in the middle of town. And I said 2009 would be the year we didn't move!

It will be a wrench to leave here - I love being right on the edge of Midsummer Common and right by the city centre - but we're also fed up of tripping over each other and everything we own. So now I'm surveying all our possessions and wondering how long it will take to pack them. We move in four weeks, so I guess I should get started...

In other news, I'm nearly finished the main body of this beautiful jumper and very excited about finishing it. I will try and get some photos and post them here soon!

Feeling lazy

Having just sponsored a friend who is running the Race for Life, who I know doesn't naturally enjoy running, is making me feel very lazy and pathetic. I have now been living right next to a massive green - runners' paradise - for more than a year, and I've been out for a 'run' once... must try harder. I am now publicly vowing that tomorrow I will get off my backside and try again. It's Mother's Day, so I have a good excuse to get some fresh-air-therapy.

The last two months have sped past. But my aunt reminded me that Mum squeezed every ounce she could out of life; I think it's time for me to start doing the same.

Mum

My mother died just over a week ago. At 2.52pm - the time is etched into my memory - on January 10. She had Meningitis. She was just 50.

I am still figuring out how to come to terms with this; at the moment I'm almost pretending she's on holiday, as if she'll be back in a week or so. She was so full of life and such a big presence that I can't really believe it's possible she's gone, even though Dad and I were with her at the time.

Mum, I miss you. I know the pain hasn't even begun, really. I've been reading your livejournal - all your hopes for the coming year were so hard to read. But it was a comfort, too, to read how happy you had been recently and to see how many friends you had. Kind words have been pouring in from people who knew you (there are so many of them; I bet you never knew just how many people's lives you touched), and they're all saying the same thing: She was so cheerful. She was so positive. She didn't have a mean bone in her body.

It's impossible to sum you up in just a few words, but suffice it to say that I was - and am - so proud of you. You were so courageous and so determined; you must have sacrificed a great deal to be a mother to me at the age of 21, but you never let that set you back, earning your degree and your teaching qualification, learning to drive, setting off on travels abroad, where you made so many more friends. You were a role model, a caring mother and a best friend. One hug from you eased so many of my troubles. If only I could have one of those now.

Mum, Dad is lost without you. You have left a hole that will never be filled. What are we supposed to do now?