Given all the craziness with blogger this week, I think I’ll just post this again. See you again in a few….

I have been a bit preoccupied over the past two weeks. I know I’ve talked about my trip to Asia, writing novel three, reading and writing poetry, and even grammar, but it’s time to ‘fess up to what’s really been on my mind, namely The Big Move.

I have lived in central London for over twenty years in a wonderful, small terrace house on a lovely tree-lined street among other young families and aging surrogate grandparents. I have loved it. Although it is a part of town easily joked about — there is even a new tv show about it — I have found it to be a great place to raise my family, a sort of village within the vast variety that is London. We never thought we’d leave, even when a few months ago we decided it might be time to sell the house and downsize. The assumption was that we would just find something smaller in the same neighbourhood.

But you know what they say about “never say never.” Over the last Bank Holiday, Mr. D and I decided to take a stroll in a part of town we love and rarely get to. We were told that there was one flat left in a new development right by the river, with views of St Paul’s, within a short walk of Borough Market, The Globe and The Tate Modern. We knew we didn’t want to live there but we thought looking at it would be a fun outing.  Well, let this be a warning to you. Don’t go looking if you’re not prepared to find. Within five minutes of walking around the development we were sold, both on the flat itself but just as much on a possible new lifestyle. The move from postcode SW1 to postcode SE1 is about as big a move as you can make here in London, sociologically and psychologically speaking. The more we walked around and discussed it the more excited and energized we became. Here it was, a new lifestyle for this new life chapter we are most definitely in, whether we wanted to admit it or not. After a year of rattling around the empty nest we began to realize that this is a time for us to focus on us, on our new needs and desires, maybe even to be the “yuppies” we were too poor to be the first time around.

So we bought it. Pretty much on impulse. Although we probably won’t be moving in until the autumn — there’s the minor sticking point of needing to sell the house first (ugh) — we are already imagining ourselves there, living it in our minds.  And I’m so excited. I do believe it fits us and where we are now in our lives.  Somehow in someway, it also feels connected to my own new commitment of spending a month or so a year in Cambodia.  I haven’t quite figured that out yet, but I think it may have to do with me allowing myself to imagine myself stepping out into the greater world and taking my place in an environment beyond my family.  For my entire writing life I’ve felt as if I’ve been leaving bits of my heart here and there all over the place. Perhaps this move will give me the freedom to come and go, picking those pieces up and gluing them back together in a new way.  Plus Mr D gets to walk to work. And I have a new fantasy of sitting in my apartment, a notebook on my lap, gazing at Christopher Wren’s finest.