For my patient and forgiving readers who have been peering into this unreliable window on my life through their computer screens since 2008 ... when I first started wailing, and wondering why, and writing about how I had packed up and left my home, all my precious (but now fading) friends, my livelihood and the familiar streets of the birthplace of my precious babies and moved back down south ... well, we've finally sold the house!
Yes, our little white house in Cheshire. A place that holds a pinata-full of memories ... a little poke and they all come tumbling out. I still wish I could pick up that house that we nurtured so, and bring it down here. But that is of course fanciful silly-talk, and we've agreed to sell it to a stranger named Johns. Or is it Jones? Whoever they are, I hope they'll be happy there. I know I was (most of the time anyway).
Perhaps now Big G and I will be able to put down some new roots? Goodness knows, we have a bag full of homeless, dangling roots that need to be dug in somewhere.