I thought this week would be one of calm, serenity, quiet and reflection. Instead I feel as if I’ve run a gauntlet, and it’s only Wednesday. Mum appeared on our door-step and dragged us to Penzance. I think that I need to have a leave from the leave soon.
My dear Mama is in the final throes of shipping her life and things across the North Sea from Scandinavia to Coventry, where she has gotten herself a little house in a small village. Apparently she is bringing everything that isn’t nailed to the spot, which seems more sentimental that I would have given her credit for.
She has never been one to grow attached to things, and it seems out of character for her not to just sell her things in Sweden and buy new things in England. It seems much more efficient and practical, at least to me. But instead she has two lorries that’s going to carry everything at great expense across the borders.
While these lorries lumber across the Scandinavian peninsula, the continent, and over our little isle once the lorries have pushed across the channel, she invited Mark and me for a get-together in Penzance in Cornwall. The town was quite lovely with a great view of the sea.
I knew she was coming to England at this time, but didn’t know she was coming here. I thought she would go directly to Coventry, and then we could meet up in a couple of weeks. But no. Never one to keep to a plan when formed and fixed, she decided to come here first, and then go to Coventry because the lorries would not reach Coventry until Thursday.
She drove past our house, we stuffed everything into the car, and then went there for a couple of days with a detour to Mark’s parents in Wiltshire. Having never been so far west in this country, it was interesting to see what it was like. But we didn’t see any pirates, at all, if you discount Mark’s and my raid to get sweets from the shops on Tuesday evening.