On moving in

Our new abode is feeling like it's our home... pretty much. Even though we got things in order pretty quickly, the soul stuff still takes time, you know? One problem of course is that you unpack, put things away, but the cupboards, shelves and drawers are different and you can't find anything! Then there are the items that go missing....

This happened to our bread knife.

Why bother with a bread knife? I hear you ask. Well see, we like different size slices and often find the ready-sliced bread too thick. But more than that, whether it's my imagination or not, I think bread Tastes different when it's been machine-sliced. Hand-sliced feels better.

Maybe I've mentioned our dear late friend Jeanne Malherbe, she who was the pioneer bio-dynamic farmer in the Cape, South Africa. She made wonderful, healthy bread but she also did something I envied, she could hold a loaf and cut it towards her heart. Isn't that special?

Anyhow, I digress. Our bread knife went missing. I knew it was unpacked on the day we moved in because I saw it lying on the kitchen counter, thus...

Now, I hope you'll agree this is a special kind of bread knife. It would be hard to find a replacement, let alone that this belonged to my mother and so the sentimental value is huge... I can think of her each time I hold it in my hand. Anyhow, I went off in search of a new one, and was put off by the price.

So we made do. My husband sliced the bread with the ham knife as well as he could. Two months went by. Then one day it was raining when we needed to leave the house. I opened the hall closet and patted the top shelf, looking for my small folding umbrella. Something metal moved under my fingers... and lo and behold, there was the knife!

My husband must have used it in the hall for opening one or two or three of the packing boxes and placed it up there, out of the way.

In any case, thank you dear house spirits. I'm glad you're becoming friendly towards these new intruders.... I mean, occupants.