We have waited patiently for the right time to move for years. For as long as I can remember – certainly at least a decade as I remember discussing it when Harry was a baby – we’ve been making plans for a more self-sufficient life.
We knew what we had to do in order to reach a point whereby we could realise our dream.
We needed an income which relied not on a boss paying what we thought we were worth, but which we could create ourselves with no limit to how much we could earn.
We needed to live flexible lives – free from job restraints whereby we could ‘up sticks and go’ when the right time came. Schooling, of course, was not an issue. Home education provides the most flexibility of all, not only in how a child learns but what and where too.
And we needed money. As we’d used built up equity from previous home purchases and sales, we would be looking at equity again as the main source of financing our move.
We were aware that achieving all of this would take time. Probably a long time, we expected. Yet we always kept our goal in mind and we always believed that that ‘one day’ would finally arrive. There is no doubt that we have been patient.
Now that we have decided that it’s now or never patience suddenly seems to be in short supply. We just want to go… now! Although we are making progress in preparing the house for selling, it still seems to be going too slowly for our liking. The children keep asking when we can begin packing and we all have a bad case of itchy feet which isn’t down to a fungal infection of the masses.
Our patience is diminishing and our cornucopian eagerness to begin the new chapter of our lives – one with veg patches and fruit trees, with pigs and livestock – is overflowing.
We are still waiting and hoping that our offer has been accepted, but we do not doubt that somehow things will all work out and wherever we end up is where we are meant to be.
In the meantime, we’ll continue to be patient.
Not much longer now… we hope.