mrs. stewart moves to london
Sometime last week… in a disjointed, jet lagged state…
I slept until 10:30 this morning. I don’t remember the last time I woke up so late. I don’t remember the last time I had 4 consecutive hours of sleep, for that matter. But that’s all I’ve been doing lately — swallowing sleep. He left for work early, kissed me on the forehead and I stretched with every intention of getting up but the birds were singing such a sweet morning song and the sheets were so new and so fresh that I softened a little… maybe just another 10 minutes. The last thing I remember is hearing the click of the door and before I knew it, two hours had passed.
He gave me strict instructions to do nothing this week. That if all I wanted to do was laze around in my pyjamas all day and watch episodes of Sherlock, then so be it. It’s a challenge for me, this doing nothing thing, but after the madness of the past couple months, I’m taking his advice. I’m giving myself this time, this space to settle in. Next week, I’ll begin in earnest.
I made coffee, unpacked my 2 suitcases, rearranged the 3 giant bouquets, folded the “welcome home” banner and placed the balloons he bought for my arrival back on the bed. I put my few books up on the shelf and my Pyrex bowl in the cupboard and my antique bottles on the window sill with flowers in them. I felt like Mary Poppins arriving at The Banks home, pulling a large plant and hat stand out of her bag, making her room cozy. I didn’t bring much with me, mostly clothes and the aforementioned, but I needed a few pieces of “me”. I had cake for breakfast (a heart-shaped cake, which he baked for me on Valentine’s day), took a short walk with my camera and got my very first London library card. And now, here I am, sat at one of my favourite cafés on the green. Later, I’ll meet him at the gym for a steam and sauna, followed by a cheeky pint to discuss wedding plans. That feels sufficient for today.
It’s raining in London. No surprise there, really, but it feels like Spring. And after months of being cooped up and wound up so tight, I welcome these grey skies, which are now my new home. I find solace in their softness. And home is exactly what London feels like. When I flew out of Montreal last week, I expected to feel sad but I wasn’t. Truth is, it was time for me to leave. I was ready. I am ready for this new beginning.
I sometimes think about the whirlwind that led me here. I suppose if I’d opted for a gentle breeze to push me along, I’d have ended up somewhere entirely different. I may have never landed here at all. We often wonder where we would be today if I hadn’t written this email 3 years ago?
How are you? I got your name from Brian Gauthier – he had lovely things to say about you and said you were expecting my email. I am planning a solo trip to Europe in March. I’m arriving in London around 7am on Tuesday March 3rd then need to catch a train to Bath on Thursday March 5th.
So I thought I would take a chance and see if you happened to have a couch available for a night or two ? I’d be happy to supply the beer :> What part of town do you live in?
Hope we can hook up.
Little did I know, I was starting a chain of events on that February 23, 2009 and this blog has been a love story ever since. This love story is not ending. It is about to expand and grow into something entirely different. A whole new adventure is about to begin and I don’t know where I’m going but I do hope you’ll follow along. If the past few years are any indication, life with Mr. Stewart promises to be anything but boring.