FITTING IN IS HARDER THAN I THOUGHT

How does one fit in to a small town when being from a big city for so long. But it was also once, how does one fit in to a big city from a small town?

Its going to take time to find my way through the ups and downs of the hills.

I cant just slot into place when I don’t fit. I’m at very round peg in a tight knit square community.

The scenery might have changed from the sand to the the green grass, but the shit is the same no matter where you begin the day.

How does one meet new people when you start as the sun rises and take your shoes off as the sun has set. And I just want to wash away the dirt.

Who knows what's around the next bend. Will be the cows crossing the road heading to the dairy or a creek with crystal clear waters flowing over the waterfalls. 

Spending time exploring the hidden gems of this stunning countryside bring smiles, but then wondering if there will be a next time. Or will I have to go on my own like in the past.

The red dirt and grass are my new accessories. But still keeping the pink lippy to brighten my day. 

Walking around the markets and not seeing a familiar face but catching a hello or smile my way. 

Buying home grown fruits and non perfect veggies on the side of the road is my new norm. 

Knowing soon the sun will break through the trees and the wet mist dapples the skin as it makes droplets on the webs from the night before.

Where you can listen to music as loud as one wants and dance like no one can see you, cos they cant. The lounge is my dance floor.  With the twinkle of fairy lights outside. My own private silent disco.

Its so quiet – I think I can hear the grass grow.

The cows are asleep, and the horse was at the backdoor a minute ago. Possums on the roof scurrying around to my 90s remixes.

Knowing tomorrow is just around the corner as plans have changed, there is no reason to close my eyes.

 

 

NEW BEGINNINGS

It all started with a google search. Then within 48hrs it was all in motion.

Here I was going to pack up all my shit and moving 1753kms away.

20 years of memories. 100s of pens and bottles filled with sand, whiskers and feathers all getting packed in cardboard boxes, taped with colour coded rooms.

Weeks of endless googling a location I’ve never been too. Booking a flight to a destination unknown.

Walking around a town that is soon to be my home. And it felt like I belonged there. The rolling hills filled with avocado, banana and the all-important, coffee plantations. 

Job sorted, removalist booked, boxes already to be loaded. I still had months to go.

Now with only weeks until I say goodbye to this place, I have called home. I dream every night of my new “shed” farmhouse and how all my shit will fit into it. From looking out to the water, I can just see from my bedroom to lush green pastures filled with moos and whinnies.

I’ll miss sitting watching the derros wander past scabbing bottles out of the bins for the 10c. listening to the ocean when the wind is in the right direction. My cranky old neighbour putting my bins out/in every week for the past 15 years. I won’t get to see the random fireworks on a Wednesday night at 7:15pm for no apparent reason. I’ll miss uber eats.
I’ll miss double locking my car – cos you know, derros.

I will miss those who have made memories with me over these past 20 years. But it also because of those people that I have made this decision to move so far away.

I am so very grateful that I have made long lasting friendships, that are now only a Facebook message away.
I’ll miss coordinating my work breaks with people who genuinely care for me.
I will miss those who have made an effort to keep in contact with me, even through our busy and shit friendship – we both made time to say our goodbyes.

The ugly cries have already started, and they will certainly continue for the rest of my time while surrounded by blank walls, mountains of boxes and the bare minimum of cups and plates.

I’m starting my new beginning with so much positivity and happiness from the people who love me for me. Or maybe they don’t want me to change my mind, and I end up staying.
You know what’s worse than packing – unpacking!

I’m sad that I won’t get to visit my favourite camping spots again. But excited to make new albums filled with 100s photos.

I’m nervous on how Mr Panda Paws Sooty will cope with the 20hr drive up with 2 birds and a turtle.

I’m worried that I will feel the loss of the beach, being so far away.

I concerned that people won’t like me. I have pissed so many people off and alienated even more.

I am excited for this new beginning. I’m excited for being around a new bunch of people. I’m excited to maybe find happiness again, to find my smile.