Tuesday, 5 January 2010

Rural unpacking


1st September 2009. I have been abandoned. All extra adults have left The Larches, including husband who has retreated to work. They have left me with two children who can't stop saying; 'Can we watch television?' even though the sun is out, they have 15 acres of meadows, various dens in the arboretum that doubles as our garden, a tenant horse, a million rabbits and 3 hopeful rat-traps in the attic.

I am unpacking. It is a rubbish job. Over the past two years I single-handedly kept an Oxfordshire charity shop in business with the amount of nonsense I gave them. Why then is there still so much stuff packed into these boxes? Our last house was half the square footage of this house so how have we more than filled it? I think I'm tired, even though it's only about 10.30am. I wonder if it's too early for vodka and whether vodka and orange would pass as a morning drink?

In a utility room that smells of stale dog poo I find a laminated card. It is worrying; telling me that in the event of an emergency I will need to call the air ambulance to tell them my map coordinates, these are helpfully inscribed on the card. I realise that in the event of an emergency, we are all going to die.

After I have said no to television for the nth time the small people storm off. Some time later when I am trying to break into a reception room filled with boxes I realise it is way too quiet. Wandering the house I finally spy them from my bedroom window: The six year old carries Daddy's huge tree loppers to an impressive rhododendron bush while the four year old, dressed only in pants, no shoes, is helping her by using Daddy's rusty saw. I mentally divorce my husband.

The Archers at The Larches

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Lou - Chicken whisperer....

Snowy and Moon

Snowy and Moon