In 5 Years?

Maybe… hehe. When I showed this creation from wool roving to my dearest husband, he, very mysteriously, didn’t seem to share my sense of humour – be it the grey strikes in his caricature hair or the fact I woke him up from an afternoon nap, he really didn’t like it so much as I did.
Well, maybe when he will wake up from his pink dreams, he might change his mind?
I don’t get so quickly along with the felting as I hoped to do, but in the end, the purpose was to keep busy while being – at least seemingly – productive, and since I majorly suck in cooking and cleaning and all the housewifing, why not to craft and pretend to be important, right?


The days (of our lives) in this place are counting down pretty quickly, hubby – who doesn’t appriciate my great sense of humour, I have to rub it again – is going to leave to London on Monday, to pick up our visas for Kuwait and than in just few days *pheeew*, we are somewhere else again.
The fact it got so close makes my sleep a bit rocky and I have nervous dreams about it, I mean, would you blame me? Moving when I was 22 was great adventure, moving three years later (and obviously 10 mental years since that point… wrinkles, wrinkles, where art thou?) is just a great deal of stress.
Maybe because we got a lot of stuff and we can’t really make it with one suitcase of 20 kg, maybe because I’m transforming into an old cat and hate changing places and paces and all that stuff around, maybe simply because moving to Britain was “eventually close” from Czech, but moving to Kuwait is “eventually far” geographically as ideologically.
I know, I should not have such a problem there being a Muslimah, but still. Weird place. Way too many unknowns.
Abood doesn’t really make it easier for me (or my thoughts), because he already assembled many boxes and started to pack his part of chaos in here, which really, really, reaaaally makes me tick like a timed bomb (or makes me wanna run around screaming and waving my limbs in the air as the flags… K’Naan, I blame you for this sentence). I am pretty known for packing earliest in about 24 hours before the plane leaves. makes me way more relaxed, and in the end more focused on what I should pack and what not.
Well, let’s hope this “move” will go well.



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  2. Tionois

    I always pack in the last possible moment, managed to be properly prepared just three or four times; don’t be afraid of forgetting something – if you can see stuff around, you still have more work to do :D
    What is even harder though, is unpacking. There’s always too much/ too little space and nothing fits in the right way.

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    Um Abbas

    I tend to postpone till it’s almost too late, and than, arriving at the destination, I wonder how many things I forgot to pack, or why the hell did I pack that or this when I do not need it at all. Heh.

  4. Tionois

    Hehe, if man’s pride doesn’t aprove of your way to express yourself, you can always remove the grey streaks or put over another black layer of wool ;D
    Packing is always a bother. My record is some 12 hours prior, not that I tend to travel that far away. So breath in and out and keep yourself busy… You manage to shape person’s body, even expression… and Abood’s nose is a masterpiece, even he has to admit :)

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