Friday favourites: old blog posts

The process of getting this new website ready to show you all involved quite a bit of trawling through old posts and making sure everything had made it here in one piece (there’s still a few kinks to iron out – feel free to let me know where they are if you find one).

My writing has slowly been evolving from a log of all I was up to (to keep far far away family and friends up to date) to something a bit more thoughtful. At least, I hope that’s the impression you get. As you know, my One Word for the year is Brave and this is another area I want to learn to be braver in: my writing.

So forgive me a moment for being entirely self-promoting, if I share with you some of my favourite posts from the last four years…

Miss Teacher
“But sometimes I get to hear small details of their lives back home, their journeys to get here which usually lasted weeks and occasionally include a part about being shot at. Or they tell me about the children or husbands and wives they’ve left behind. Or lost.”

Back to the start again
“The feeling of taking off the old year like you’d take off an old coat, a bit worn out and frayed at the edges, perhaps even torn or burnt by some experiences, but also with pockets stuffed with mementoes of good times and new lessons learnt. And so it’s a bitter-sweet moment to take it off and hang it up.”

A beginner’s guide to installing insulation
“and half the time I felt like a fraud while I was measuring a wall with part of my head saying “what are you doing, you’ve never measured a wall in your life” but then I did it once and said “well now I have”.”

Brave is a red dress
“Because I need to welcome back colour in my life. I need less black and grey dresses that claim to flatter but make me look like everyone else. I need less worrying about fitting in and more courage to just be myself. I need less gloominess, less realism and resignation, and more confidence, more positivity, more carving my own path.”

This place has meant so much to me. It has been a good home to us. I love the flat itself, but it is the memories it holds of friendships and love and moments that made me braver and stronger and happier. Now we move on to the next home, but we take all those treasured moments and relationships with us.

“I grew up in a small village where everyone knew who you were, probably heard your big news before you even did. I love the strong sense of community there. I love that for our wedding, one of my dad’s friend’s from the pub offered his vintage car to drive us to the church in exchange for a pint of beer. I didn’t think I would find that in a city…”