There are many stages of moving: (1) Denial (2) Acceptance (3) Nostalgia (4) Ready-to-Go. I am at stage #3. Everything I look at or experience this week makes me weak at the knees, drenched with bittersweet longing and a need to etch a memory of it in my mind.
Perfect example today, my gorgeous friend Mel took me for lunch on Acland Street in St. Kilda; as we strolled along the street, I sighed at the iconic European cake shops which J and I have frequented at the end of every school term as a special treat. After lunch we went for coffee at the beach. As we walked along the St. Kilda beach boardwalk to the Stokehouse, I sighed again, as St. Kilda beach was one of the first places we visited upon arrival in Melbourne 3 and a bit years ago, and it has always had a special place in my heart. I even barracked for the St. Kilda footy team (don't tell them I am switching allegiances to the Fremantle Dockers).
During my workout in Central Park this morning, I etched every loved corner of the Park in my mind. As I walked home along our high street, I sighed as I glanced in the window of the My Kitchen Table cafe where J and I have lunch after tennis during the school holidays, I sighed again as I passed the Soul Cafe where I pick up coffee on my way to the tram. I even sighed at our Australia Post outlet...I know I know, I am deep into Stage #3.
I am going to highlight what about Melbourne I will miss most....there will likely be several more entries in coming days:
1. My High Street with its' block of cafes and dear little shops;
2. Glenferrie Road, my other High street with its' three blocks of cafes and dear not-so-little shops;
3. Melbourne's iconic trams;
4. From the tram window spying original Victorian houses with names like 'Ye Olde Parsonage';
5. Central Park and Hedgley Dean Gardens both adjacent to our house and loved by all of us (including Murphy);
6. Stunning Albert Park and it's rows of Palm trees. I drive on the Formula One track around the Park to work in South Melbourne and often have to stop to allow crossings of waddling Black Swans.
7. My peoples. We've been having serious quality time with our dearest friends over the last week or so to etch as many memories as possible. They have been amazing. Supportive, loving, funny. Everything I needed my friends to be.
Marco and Marie-Pierre - our port in a storm from the very beginning And makers of THE best pizza outside of Italy:
|With their crazy cat Minou|
My girls at Ficelle for dinner (thanks Majella and Thierry):
|In my usual position, guffawing at something Kerry has said|
Only a family of six could have this many skateboards, and only this mother of four who works 60+ hour weeks would make this many home-made hotcross buns on a Saturday night.
|Our backup family|