After two great years the Highland Experiment is over. We’re moving back to Fife!
There were many reasons for the move. Wanting to live closer to Gareth’s parents, new career opportunities, more affordable housing, and plain old missing the Fife Life. Alright, I admit, when we found out Neighbour Cat was leaving the building… that kind of sealed the deal. 😉
Just before we moved north in 2013 I wrote:
“I’m not scared of the unknown. I’m not worrying if this is the right or wrong move. It’s just a move. I’m not one to wang on about “The Universe” or fate or destiny… I reckon life is a mish-mosh of a) conscious decisions and b) completely random shit. So I will let things unfold, try to be open and choose whatever path feels best at the time. Something will happen up there, and whatever that is, even if it sucks I’ll get through it eventually.”
Well bloody hell, a lot happened up there! I made fabbo new friends for life, bumbled into self-employment, pootled around the Highland landscapes, drank many teaspoons of whisky. And the difficult things that happened, like that stupid mole-y git Wally, we muddled through them. Damn 2013 Shauna, you wise.
To be honest, right before we moved up north I wasn’t a happy bunny, deep down. I was restless, stuck and constantly annoyed with myself. The Highland Times were a fantastic kick up the arse to get out of my rut and do things differently. And learn to be kinder to myself. I’ll no doubt be falling down and clawing out of self-created holes to the end of my days, but it’s all good. I always reckon, if you can get to the end of the year and feel even 1% smarter and more self-aware than you were at the end of the year before, that’s progress. So at the end of two years, I feel approx. 73% better than before. Pow!
I have a Highlands wrap-up post in the works, but in summary it was such a bittersweet feeling to leave. Of course Inverness put on a late burst of sunshine in our last week to be all, “Smell ya later!”.
So back here Fifeside, we’ve swapped the castle and the river and the crappy little flat and the memory of the fluffy visitor for quiet village life and a great wee house! I now have a tree to look at while I’m working instead of a tiny Velux window that pigeons would shit on like clockwork every morning.
Best of all, the bathroom has an excellent shower! I’ve never lived somewhere with a powerful one before. I nearly cried the first time I stood under there and the conditioner blasted right off my head. “The same thing happened to me!” said baldy Gareth. Ha ha ha.