No Internet!!

Prior to continuing with the blog and the journey in sequence, I feel compelled to type an interlude to explain my long absence. No Internet. Could I get internet with a decent connection whilst in Florida? Well Mrs Bunny here couldn`t, which made me feel quite Grumpy. I tried every which way I could, I even went `To infinity and beyond` to gain a connection but alas, For the `First time in Forever, nothing was going my way`. I had to sit back, switch off the laptop and just enjoy the show. For any Disney/Universal or Orlando fan, or anyone just curious about what a whole month of fun looks like, I assure you the next blog will tick that box. Internet however dodgy or slow around the world, Yes. America?...No. Go figure!

Right now I am on borrowed internet, and speed typing. Probably explains the fat finger typing errors and slightly waffling paragraphs as I try to marshall my head full of thoughts into a comprehensive and hopefully non too boring blog.

Are we home yet? Yes, yes we are. But guess what....No internet here either. Apparently cancelling your every household subscription is a doddle, `Cancel the Internet` ? Sure thing, poof, gone. Ah, 17 months later you want to reconnect? Afraid there is a 6 week waiting list! Have you any idea how much of every day life is internet driven? Yes, of course I could use my phone but my once decent network has failed me. I totally understand the actions seen in many films of walking around with phone in the air trying to grasp any floating signals....

So what does it feel like to be home? Strange, very strange. But also odd, emotional, depressing, comforting, quirky, bemused and a little sad. Prior to leaving and packing up the whole house into boxes we had little idea of how overwhelming reconnecting with all our all belongings, and living back in the house would be. Our first job however prior to any unpacking would be to rediscover the colour of the front door under its myriad of dust, dirt and cobwebs. My very fine idea of keeping our window cleaner employed in our absence ensuring the house remained tidy looking and lived in, fell quite flat when I omitted to ask him to wipe down the front door on occasions. Beautiful clean windows, front door buried in cobwebs....humph.

After a couple of days of little more than endless brews, rest ,sleep and recollections, we started to take stock of the condition of the house. For the most part a good clean, vacuum and spider removal, would suffice to restore most rooms to their pre-trip condition, but we had mould in many places. How does mould grow on places that were scrubbed within an inch of their lives prior to our departure? Doors, furniture, pans. Maybe there is a science secret that I failed to acknowledge. I do know however, that every surface was scrubbed and anti bac prior to leaving. Yet, shoes left in cupboards had to be thrown away, ditto rucksacks. Anything packed into a box, survived its hibernation trouble free. A lesson now learned for future trips.

Unpacking. The first job was to fully unpack our hardworking and over stuffed backpacks. It was quite liberating to be able to dump everything into a washing basket, we have a shiny new washing machine all of our very own, so exciting, no more hand washing, sourcing laundry services or handing over our clothes to strangers praying we would see them again. Equally to be able to relocate certain items straight to the bin having vowed that I never want to see or wear them again was quite satisfying. We then unpacked our America Disney bags, laughing that we managed more daft souvenirs in 4 weeks then we had collected in the previous 16 months. Naturally nothing that went to USA was discarded. A whole raft of washing and drying later, and there it was for all the bunnies, our clothes for 17 months of travel laid out on the bed. The first things to add to these piles were the contents of the boxes we sent home. Warm clothes. Oh the added joy of reconnecting with favourite leggings, warm jumper, best coat, the extra underwear and t shirts because we took too much. The three of us refilled our drawers, and revelled in having so many clothes available to us.

I then retrieved the box labelled `last worn clothes` . Ok, no problems here, favourite dungarees, Mr Bunny`s jeans, comfy dossing pants, Mr B`s fleecy jumper and his quirky lion t shirt, Mrs Bunny`s super comfy well loved white t shirts, both long and short sleeved. So many clothes!! Then I found the clean laundry leftovers, more clothes. I delved a little deeper and found yet another box labelled `clothes`. Suddenly the fun of having extra choices of clothing diminished. Each box depressed us further. For seventeen months we had dipped into our bags, found sufficient clothes, washed underwear, socks daily/every second day, and always felt we had enough choices. I would like to think we looked clean and smart enough? Yet all of a sudden the reality of the life we had left behind became a smack in the face of frivolous spending. I bought pjs on the road, I loved them. When they required a wash, a spare t shirt sufficed. At home I found yet another box marked `Nightwear`. A whole box, containing nothing but nightwear? Yet another box labelled `underwear`.....

Is it possible to have too much? Yes. And still the boxes kept on coming. Not just labelled Mrs Bunny, Mr Bunny had just as many boxes as I. Shirts. Mr Bunny was such a smart, fun, shirt wearing diligent worker, but 35 shirts? Whilst he took great pleasure in dumping the whole lot in a box ear marked for the charity shop, it was a sobering experience when we recall the purchases. Nothing cheap for my Mr B, yet the will/want to market and sell so many surplus clothes eludes us. We are now both retired and wish to leave behind our lives of old. We get excited now by silky sports branded clothing that requires no ironing yet looks so tidy. Walking casuals gives us a buzz, the words quick dry and breathable are quite the turn on. At least eight boxes of surplus clothing now reside in the bedroom waiting for the right moment to redistribute them.

Other household items also found themselves unceremoniously dumped in boxes as well. Kitchenware being the main target. For at least twelve months Mr B made us creative and inventive meals with the food implements we had available. If the room/kitchen yielded a fish slice, fried eggs were a go. A sharp knife and we could add an onion to the food. A potato masher was luxury (cheap cutlery is not an advisable substitute) A wooden spoon meant a `hurrah`, no more burning fingers on hot spoons. We purchased one apron, one spoon, a spatula and a bottle opener on our travels. We came home to several boxes of cooking items, how many stirring utensils? casserole dishes? enough to cook and feed the kids at the local school ! And still we had more...

Ornaments. There is only one rule in our house. You can have it if you love it and it must have a place. No home, no purchase, no matter how much we like it. We only made the mistake once, and that set of 4 blasted elephants haunts us, bought without a home in mind and fit nowhere. Too nice to dump, too darn big for anywhere we have. They move from pillar to post and invariably end up on a windowsill somewhere tucked behind a curtain. Rediscovering our boxes of ` ornamental treasures` was actually a joy. Each item is a memory, a story, a reminder. They all had a home. All except one. Sorry Buddha, but we got so heartily sick and tired of seeing your image in every guise possible, it's time for you to depart. Without even unwrapping it from the protective bubble wrap, this annoying icon was dumped, replaced with a favourite Bunny ornament.

The next casualty of surplus was our cushion collection. Oh dear heaven how many sodding cushions!!! From beds (all 117 of them worldwide) that mostly yielded one pillow each, to rooms that seldom even had chairs never mind a chair with a cushion (certain hotels and cute hotels excepted) to suddenly being in possession of 30 plus cushions???!!! Even little bunny who is currently residing at our bunny hutch for a short while, politely and firmly refused to add a single cushion to a bed that already sports 4 super bouncy feather pillows. I tried adding a `decorative` cushion to our bunny bed, but one week later I am already ready to chuck the darn thing out of the window. Surplus. Just in Case. Maybe. These words are rapidly being erased from our vocabulary.

Nope, cant do it. I have tried. Mugs. The last unopened box. It reads `Favourite Mugs` and you know what? I cannot think of one single mug that could possibly be in that box! In Argentina Mrs B purchased two matching blue thermal mugs with lids, and they were the best buy ever. He will never admit it, but I bet Mr B secretly wished that he too had purchased one of those mugs for himself. For us girly bunnies who love hot tea, they were the best. Decent sized mugs with thermal qualities, and lids for outdoor use, what`s not to love? Mr B managed with whatever piffling little cup any property supplied. We used our cups every single day we had a kettle, but now? I have a box full of `favourite mugs` and not a single recollection of what they are and zero willpower to just send the whole lot to charity I think this is my kryptonite. Mugs. I must add that we did leave the smallest selection of crockery available prior to leaving, just one of everything in a box (with the kettle of course) The need for extra mugs doesn`t exist. Huge shout out to my dad here. Not only did he diligently monitor our mail, he also welcomed us home with a large selection of breakfast goodies. He thought of everything and that basket of goodies just made me cry. Bread, butter, jam, crumpets, cereal, bananas, oranges, tea bags, coffee, sugar and milk. What a hero.

The only remaining items that are left in storage now, apart from `favourite mugs` are trees. Artificial trees. And with the exception of one bare surface where a small plant would look very nice, I have absolutely not a single clue where any of them used to reside. Not one. I have no intention either of placing any of them somewhere `just because`. I guess my storage has just become a tree house.

My final reality of home is the quiet absence of my mum. My lovely mum passed away whilst we were in Australia and the family decision that we were not to come home under any circumstances made the loss more bearable due to lack of visual reality. I hadn`t seen her for almost seven months, with the exception of whatsapp calls, so the harsh reality of absence did not hit me until I returned home, entered my parents home, and found the silence deafening. Seeing my dad standing alone, without my mums presence was too much to bear and the reality of loss hit me hard. Her empty chair. Her slippers tucked out of sight. No vocal reminder of why she bought a certain picture, a tale she told every time I arrived at the house. The smell of her perfume as I went into her untouched bedroom. The reality obscured by travel, time and distance.

I refuse to end my blog on a sad note. Entering their kitchen is the reason (not the only reason of course) we made the hard decision not to return home. Pin Badges. My mum and dad loved to travel, mostly by cruise ship, but coach tours, personal holidays and day trips, and no matter the destination, a Pin Badge was the Prized Souvenir. Such was their love of holidays, travel and sightseeing, their pin badge collections are in the 100s. Together they saw the world, and together they blessed our trip, encouraging us to go see the places they had seen, to live our dream to travel as they had lived theirs. There is never a right time to leave anyone. When you get older, when the house is paid, when you retire, when the kids leave home, after the kids are married, when the grandkids grow up. Now. Your time is now. It may be the hardest decision you ever make, but make it, and go live your dream. I lost 5 people during my time away. Ages ranging from 84 to 25. You never know when the clock stop ticking. Be Brave. Make the decision.

Normal blog service resumes soon as our date for Wifi installation looms large. All things Florida, and clues as to our next wild ride.

Happy thoughts,

Mrs Bunny x