Standing in the kitchen, chopping onions, tears rolling down my cheeks. A normal everyday task, but tonight it felt more special. Tonight, chopping onions in my own kitchen I finally felt at home again. It’s been a long haul.
So where have the last seven months since my last post gone? In short, the last few months have been an exhausting, emotional blur. My ambition to keep a regular diary of our move and renovation, turned out to be an ambition too far. The magnitude of what we have undertaken has taken most of my energy and time. Writing and creativity have had to be put aside.
I think it’s fair to say, that we went into this project with the naivety of those who have never done anything like this before. Having a few improvements made to your house is one thing, but having one completely gutted and starting from scratch in a new country is on an entirely different scale.
Our journey home would have been far more difficult had it not been for the help and encouragement we’ve had along the way. It was our estate agent’s vision that made us take a leap of faith and buy the house. She could see the potential, where perhaps we didn’t. Our team of builders has realised our vision and turned a once loved, but sadly recently neglected, wine maker’s house into a home again. We have learnt from the experience and stories of village residents who have lived in or known our house for many years. I hope that we have done the house justice.
Our move and renovation in many ways has been like chopping onions; at times tedious, fiddly and tear inducing, but the effort and discomfort have provided the ingredient to make something very special.