Leaving the Cabin

September, for once, didn't feel like it went past in a blip. So much happened. University was attended on an almost daily basis (very odd for an ex-Humanities student), we were moving, then we weren't moving, then we were moving again, work started up, all the baking took place and I just about managed to catch up on Downton Abbey in-between!

If you haven't gathered from my previous posts, I've lived in a cabin with my boyfriend for the past year, and although it wasn't quite as idyllic and romantic as it sounds, it was still pretty awesome. Our little cabin, with everything in one room, on the edges of a wood and in the outskirts of London. Sounds like a children's story doesn't it?

After finishing university we took the plunge and moved in together, me coming from Norfolk with a car full of possessions that we managed to squeeze and stuff under the bed, wardrobe and across dinky shelves. The transition to London living was hard and isn't something I'm fully used to yet. I don't think I ever will be. What was wonderful was living with my handsome chap and exploring pockets of London I never knew existed before (mainly lots of fancy palaces and gardens).

Merging your things with another person's is exciting and scary and sometimes problematic. Joe drew the line at have heart shaped decorations (I still managed to sneak some in!). I discovered that he had a love of birds of prey (three years in and not an inkling), with one such cast iron eagle reluctantly allowed to live on top of a chest of drawers. The cabin was a mish-mash of wood, cracked doors and many, many cobwebs, but it was our first home together. The first place I cooked chowder for dinner. The first caravan oven I baked a loaf of bread in. The first, and most likely only, place where you could make tea, shower and sleep in a 3ft radius.

Like all good things, they must come to an end eventually. Don't get me wrong, those nights when I was kept awake with mating foxes, woke to a flooded kitchen or found slugs in the bathroom were frustrating at the time, but they're fast becoming quirks thought back on with a smile.

Cabin - you did us so well. You were a little sanctuary in the sprawling mass of London. A warm place of solitude after a day of noise and chaos.

Thank you.

On to the next adventure. Albeit a South-London based one this time...

How do you feel about moving house? 

(Normal posting will resume shortly. Blame house moves and slow internet.)

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