…since the last time I posted on this blog.
We’ve completed a whole year of our marriage. Yes, we have! And to celebrate it with our families, we traveled to India and back. What happened in that one week while we were in India calls for a whole different post, but for now it should suffice to say that I spent more time in a car than anywhere else. Which is what happens when one plans to visit three places within a week. Like I told my Dad, I didn’t even have time to be emotional; to take some time off from all the rushing and running around to reflect on the fact that I was actually home. After a long year of being away. Our anniversary itself was a humble affair with just close relatives and cousins, but it was worth traveling all the way just to be there.
Our stuff finally got delivered from Hanoi. So the last week has been spent unwrapping sheets of bubble wrap (and being distracted for minutes on end while trying to burst all of them and then checking if I’d missed out even one) and trying to cross a room stuffed with all the boxes (which was kinda like an obstacle race, if you ask me); spilling all of the contents on to the floor and then trying to sort it all out. It made me laugh to think about how when we first moved into this place, I wondered what I would do with all the space and all the closets. With all our stuff finally here, it was more about trying to squeeze in all the things we found we didn’t need after all into boxes and stack them somewhere, anywhere out of sight. So, well, word of caution. If you happen to visit us, don’t look under the beds. Please. On a more delightful note, all my books are here! The last book of the Harry Potter collection that I was so scared I had lost. All my Archie comics that I had lugged from India. My precious Diary of A Wimpy Kid series (complete with the last book I bought just last month). My Tintin paperbacks. Now, with all the bits and pieces finally in place (including the DVD remote that my darling husband had forgotten to pack and that embarrassingly huge portrait of moi that he had gotten painted in Vietnam) the house is as close to a home as it can get. And I am as close to being settled as I can. Even though a tiny little part of me knows that this stability is deceptive. Come tomorrow we might have to pack in everything into the very boxes that we unpacked them from, and lug all of it to a whole different place altogether. For now, though, I am settled. Right here.
On a related note, my study is now finally in order. Which basically means I have been able to throw all the odd stuff lying on my desk into a fancy box, which then I tucked inside the closet so I have enough space to at least place my laptop on my desk. Which, in turn means I am getting serious about starting the book I had been meaning to write for a long time. Yes, finally. This is it; and I am putting it down here so I can’t back down this time. While the dream was to be the youngest published writer ever (must have been at the age of ten) I guess I can make do with at least being a published writer. The least I can do is try. And write. A lot.
Oh, and we’re getting swimming lessons starting today (yay!). I mean, after listening to “You’ve put on weight after your marriage!” for the umpteenth time, I decided I should go ahead and do something about it. Well, more than all the dieting and tread-milling that never seems to work anyway. And what better than the supposedly most enjoyable form of exercise, eh? So, swimming it is!
What else? I must have mentioned this before, right? About how it has always been the little things? Well, add more to the list. A cute little marble mortar and pestle. A plateful of hot apple crisps straight from the oven served with a huge dollop of vanilla ice-cream (my diet was screaming bloody murder, but I couldn’t care less). And finally, my own copy of Little Women that the husband gifted me yesterday. Which is amazing because even though I grew up with the book, the only copy I’d had was a hand me down from a cousin that eventually got misplaced (the book, not the cousin). And just so you know how much it meant to me, I actually stopped browsing the shelves in the bookstore for a whole minute and kept staring at the book.
So that’s it for now. With the study finally reinstated to its former glory, I guess I shall be writing more than before. You know what they say about rock bottoms and the only way you can go from there being up, right? Well, exactly like that.