It’ll be excellent when it’s done, though, and worth it. Close the door, don’t look back – I’ve always been good at moving on, though if ones life flashes before the eyes just before one (*one* is a wretched word when used as an impersonal whassisface, innit?) pegs out, it’ll be a symphony of repressed memories. I’m not traumatised, that would be silly. Just that my childhood was – well, rather lovely, actually, and I don’t like to let it go.
The Sage, Elle and I are all at our respective computers. Modern living, hey.
Elle is off to London tomorrow, to see a friend who’s staying in Bristol – it’s a good halfway spot. She’s returning on the train that gets in at 11.10 pm, so I’ll drive over to Diss to fetch her. She acknowledged last night that she’s quite nervous of the dark. Of course, when I was growing up street lights went off at midnight but, though I lived in towns until I was over thirty, I mostly had very large gardens and I adjusted to village-in-the-country living very quickly. It isn’t for everyone though.
When we moved here, which was at the end of July, many years ago, the rain set in in September and hardly seemed to stop for the next eighteen months. It may not have been a record-breaking year as this has been but, since I don’t remember flooding in the West Country, maybe East Angular was wetter than other places for once. Ro, who was a toddler at the time, became known in the village for being always in wellies. However, I loved it from the start. I’ve known other people who have moved here and whose first question has been “Where’s Tesco?” (or Sainsbury’s or Waitrose, depending on, um, personal preference). But, not only did I love it, but I had thought it through – because that’s what I do, loves, I act on instinct but there are surprisingly sound reasons when I think about it – and I didn’t overdo the discomfort, whilst embracing the good parts of living here.
Ooh, as so often, I sat down not knowing what I was going to write and now I have something for tomorrow too. Splendid. A bit of my past that I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about before.
Toodle-pip, dear hearts. Until tomorrow – don’t get your hopes up, mind you. Nothing especially revealing, unless you’re interested in the minutiae of Zhistory.