Homeward

It’s tough being a grown up sometimes when you just want to jump, skip and generally bounce off the walls. There’s just a tiddly chance of travelling in a southerly direction, with a tiddly chance of me singing Take Me Home Country Roads, much to M’s dismay. It’s not exactly West Virginia but it’s home and it’s where I feel I belong. We wouldn’t travel down by train despite the train timetable. M brought that home recently after a Croydon job and noticed that the line linked up to Bexhill and Hastings. There seems to be a lot of court work there lately so I could tag along and then hop on a train at some stage in the future. It’s always difficult trying to shoe horn a few days away. Currently the issue is whether J is over the worst of his man flu or not. After this small work free slot for M things get ridiculously busy so it would be me travelling solo after that or not at all. Just the thought of seeing proper hills is exciting enough, then there’s the sea, hearing familiar accents. Fingers well and truly crossed.

I am packed and ready to go, just in case. As always the crucial part of packing is choosing the right crochet project. I don’t feel as though my concentration levels will be very high and it may well be cold by the coast so I’m going to take the tweed yarn and make a tailored pair of fingerless gloves for myself, or for M if he expresses an interest in owning a pair. E and I had a great time on our visit last February and the project bag on top of my suitcases was from Yak in Brighton. It has been in constant use since then, it is surprising how much it can hold.

Riley has been eyeing the suitcases with suspicion. If there’s one thing he hates in life (because of his early years elsewhere) it is being left, or someone leaving the house. It’s noticeable how much happier he is when we are all home. He stops pacing and growling at every slight noise outside.

I’ve started reading Villette by Charlotte Bronte. I like these old pocket editions and I’ve got quite a few. I’ve read the Jane Eyre copy several times but Villette is new to me. I loved the programme that was on earlier in the year ‘To Walk Invisible’. I find I have to be in the mood for this kind of reading, just the same as I wait until I’m in the mood for other types of novel. One I never tire of is Larkrise to Candleford. I loved the television series but the book is so much richer in detail. I will always prefer the depiction of simple living in a book like this than I ever would something like Downton Abbey. I’ve enjoyed Downton Abbey, but I prefer the tales of hardship.

Simple rustic crochet, good literature, the sea, hills, leisurely coffee and visiting family. My idea of a restorative break!

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