The G.O. and I resigned from our jobs yesterday.
30 days until my 50th birthday for which I’ve rainchecked ‘festival of’ until 2016 in favour of simple gathering of family for lunch at the lovely Lifeboat Seafood Café on the Hawkesbury River.
36 days until our next trip to our house at Taylors Arm where we will shuffle and prepare accommodations to absorb our Sydney apartment belongings.
42 days until we finish work.
46 days until the removalist truck arrives to load up our apartment contents for the 500 km trip up the coast.
56 days until Christmas, when we’ll be 9 for lunch.
After that we’re having a long holiday…
“Every one of us is called upon, perhaps many times, to start a new life.
A frightening diagnosis, a marriage, a move, loss of a job…
And onward full-tilt we go, pitched and wrecked and absurdly resolute, driven in spite of everything to make good on a new shore.
To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another–that is surely the basic instinct…
Crying out: High tide!
Time to move out into the glorious debris.
Time to take this life for what it is.”
Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide in Tucson