Transition Time....I don't know what to do...

Dawn this morning.

This morning I stand on a ladder in the  drizzling rain

hoiking out dead leaves and moss and smelly debris from the gutter at the front of the house, unblocking the down pipe.... a great whoosh of brown water collects and overflows in the drain, sending a river down past the front door. And the drain is still backing up with water because the soak away is full.....has been for years.

It's a long continuing drama ever since I moved in  - what to do about the drains?

I don't know what to do.

There are a lot of things I don't know what to do about in this limbo/transition time before I move on.

I want to hibernate and just take up the space as it is and not do anything else to the house during these winter months.

But it's like having a tooth extracted....my tongue keeps checking the unfamiliar gap...can't leave it alone....maybe I'll paint the garage doors....get the kitchen done....knock a window through the wall instead of taking it down.

Instead I drive to IKEA and immediately loose the will to live. But still I  meander through the many rooms and aisles and corridors for hours, in a kind of stupor...  mesmerised by everything ...so modern and simple, clean lines, bright/muted colours and so cheap.

I  finally queue up to collect the small wooden table and 2 chairs with padded seats which I've bought to replace the plastic picnic set in the kitchen.

A young man wheels the trolly to my car and loads it up with the flat packs of furniture.

When I get home I struggle to lift and manoeuvre the table out of the car. It's too heavy and defeats me. So it's still there in the well of  the back seat.

Waiting for me to decide what to do about it. Along with all the other uncertain things cluttering up my mind, taking up the space I thought I'd cleared for anything lovely to happen.

Like an unexpected rainbow.