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I've taken it off, and suddenly I start to see where to go. Not there yet, but much more balanced, I've cropped the edges as well, in this image
In the meantime, I'm still to'ing and fro'ing sorting out Cecil's house, salvaging things to decide about later, dealing appropriately with what's left. It's quite gruelling, my third trip Thursday to Sunday last week, but then there are revelations, a little collection of miniature china that I remember from my childhood, nestled in a drawer
They are all cracked and battered, but I clearly recall the thrill of finding them, as a solitary child, staying with her Aunt in this mysterious dwelling with it's hexagonal kitchen, uppy downy stairs, bowls of pot pourri, nooks and crannies. These speak to me of explorations and discoveries in quiet houses, where a clock ticks and the sounds of birds drift in through windows. I was often alone, but not often lonely. In my mind's eye, I was usually half away in Narnia, or the world of E Nesbit, and around me these little ladies, Cecil, Mum, Ganna, lived their quiet lives.