Don't it always seem to go, you don't know what you've got till it's gone

I am leaving Toowoomba.

Not that I really wanted to be here, but I tell you what, this is more difficult than I thought it would be. My lovely friend gave me some advice, it did not involve any wine or booze, but she knows me well. By invoking the poetry that surrounded the experience, rather than specific events, I will be ok, so she tells me.

So – I mourn:
My House: my lovely house; my home, built by a hard working man, with his own two hands. He made it posh were people could see, and saved where they couldn’t. So solid, water tight and unassuming. My boy built a fence, a patio, a kitchen, a bathroom, a vegetable garden, a front garden, a side garden, re did the roof, put in insulation, polished the floors, new carpet, along with re purposing furniture, studying and working.
(By Jingo – look how much you can get done when you’re committed.)

My Job: I learned so much at my job, and my boss was great for me. The friends I made at work have been lovely, and it was certainly a soft landing for me.

My position: Our house is so close to everything, I wish I had taken more advantage. Seriously – 1.2 km from a major department store, 400 m to two major bottle shops, 900 m to a cinema, pub restaurant, 300 m to pizza shop , video shop, chicken shop, butcher, GREAT fruit shop.... OMG why am I leaving??

The Parks: Walking Jake is much nicer in a park. He probs doesn’t know, but it is nice for me. So close as well. Hmmmm..

*not sure if this is helping*

I might have to get back to this.

*open a bottle of wine*