Well, this is a bit of a different review of the month...

It's not a run-down of the last few weeks' posts, because there have hardly been any...

True, we covered the first days of 2026, and bleated about how busy we were (ha! file under "you ain't seen nothing yet"...). There were a couple of minor celebrations of Sarawakian heritage (Batu Lintang camp, and the new mural at the Brooke Dockyard). And there was a bit of a reflection on our current reorientation (whereby we head off to be based on the Isle of Man while still maintaining our ties with Sarawak).

But after that -- silence. Because we have been so ridiculously run off our feet... There has just been NO time to do anything apart from move from one place to another, buy stuff for the house, and clean, clean, clean, clean, clean...

There has, therefore, been no time to actually think about stuff in the way that blog posts require.

Let me recap briefly:

Chapter 1: We fly to the UK.

There's not much anyone can do to make a 14-hour flight enjoyable, but Malaysia Airlines do their absolute best. And none of the bad scenarios we'd worried about eventuated. No-one took exception to the fact that we seemed to be transporting a vacuum cleaner in our luggage; nor had we miscalculated on the (stupendous) weight of our bags.


Now it's Wednesday. We collect our van, and drive it through the rain to Derbyshire:



We stayed in Alfreton, which is said to have been founded by the cake-burning King Alfred (849-99), but no-one can really be sure. In the 19th century, the town's population swelled on the back of the coal and iron industries, but the 1960s saw the end of all that, and the economy shifted to factories, retail enterprises, and services.







We stayed in a nice quiet house on the edge of town:





After seeing family, adding the stuff we'd stored with them to the vast collection already in the van, and picking up a few things from the Nottingham IKEA, we headed for Haydock. It's Saturday by now.





We were due to pick up some more stuff from a different IKEA not far from Haydock. Total farce. We collect three trolleys' worth of items. It's dark; the collection area is crowded; we end up parking on the double-yellow lines. So there's no room or time to reorganize the van (now in a bit of a pickle). Everything goes in as best we can shove it. Plus, the collection area is on a slope, and the trolley wheels do not lock... It's Keystone Cops material.


And then it's Sunday, and we get a bit of a respite by walking round Lyme and Wood Country Park, sited on land reclaimed from former mines:



Nearby there's a monument to the humans and animals killed in various terrible pit accidents:










Chapter 2: We take our van to the Isle of Man, and stay with my brother until moving-in day.


We're lucky to be sailing. Before and after our crossing, many boats were cancelled on account of the latest storm system to hit the British Isles.

There followed a Monday, Tuesday, and half-Wednesday of comparative calm (emotions-wise at least). The calm before the hurricane...







Chapter 3: We pick up the keys...



It's now Saturday evening, and it still feels as though we've made incredibly little progress. We have a clean bathroom, a clean bedroom (we're currently occupying it, but it will ultimately be the guest-room-cum-sitting-room), a few clean surfaces in the kitchen, and a clean half of the downstairs room (the bit that's our computer corner). We still, therefore, have lots still left to clean; and Nigel has a few more items of furniture to build.

Stuff is still sitting round in boxes and cases because it doesn't have anywhere to go yet. We've ordered a bed, and are about to order a fridge/freezer (at the moment, our fridge is the van, and Nigel goes out to fetch the milk and yogurt every morning...).


We have a TON of waste to ship off to the tip. And although the boiler seems to boil (so we have heat and hot water), it flashes up disconcerting error messages every now and again. A boiler man will have to be tracked down next week.

I'm easily discouraged (a big fault of mine), and the monumentality of this entire undertaking has been -- and still is -- daunting.

There has been very little time to actually enjoy being here. But as we motor from one purveyor of household items to the next, I think: How beautiful this place is, with its skies and its hills and its ever-changing sea. Once our noses are off the grindstone, we'll be able to benefit from all this every single day.



Fortunately, there's a very nice cafe, called 360, quite close to our house:



And our trips into Douglas have brought fresh air (in spades...) and good food:



I've been complaining for a while that The Velvet Cushion is running behind. Needless to say, it still is. I've read/listened to loads of books this month (mainly while cleaning and travelling), but only four have so far made it into posts: Claire Keegan's exquisite Small Things Like These; Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower (my introduction to Afrofuturism); Jonathan Franzen's Freedom (enjoyable, but not as stunning as The Corrections); and Yael van der Wouden's The Safekeep (I found this account of Netherlands WWII ghosts slightly disappointing, but that view definitely puts me in a minority, as it has garnered considerable acclaim).

My three wishes for February: 1. More walking; 2. More downtime; 3. More reading and writing.

May it be...