It’s a year since I moved from Sydney to Melbourne to be with my partner. It has been hard, at times unsettling, and often very lonely as I swapped a big office for a tiny one, and left a very social life of talk and laughter and many friends for one with a man who has few friends but throws himself into giving his three children the best life he can. I am well loved by my new family here and each day we are consciously and unconsciously building a life together.
It is possibly this which has got me feeling like nest-building. For months, I’ve been a tad obsessive about blogs about homes, and furniture painting, and I planned my own looks from pieces collected at flea markets and garage sales and trash and treasure markets.
But I haven’t tried it out for myself yet.
I want to be creative in that way but I’m a little lacking in confidence. I have trouble seeing myself as a homemaker. I worry I’ll fail and that the things will look silly. I’ve been opening pages of magazines and asking my partner and his children what looks they like.
I took one tiny nesting step on the weekend when I planted a little herb garden. Hopefully, the sight of sprouting Parsley, Thyme and Basil will help me take those bigger nesting steps soon.