We have just returned home for good after spending the last nine months in Eastbourne. My husband was working as a lecturer on a short term contract at Sussex University. However, the round trip of nearly six hundred miles between Eastbourne and our North Wales farmhouse, each fortnight, was beginning to get exhausting. We were not enjoying life in the south-east, people seemed to be more stressed out by the faster pace of life, and in consequence we saw many more instances of anti-social behaviour than we experience in our peaceful rural community. When the owner of our flat decided to put it up for sale, and give us notice to quit, we decided that it would be good idea to return home sooner than we had planned.

We spent the last week packing up our belongings. We could not believe just how much stuff we managed to accumulate in a relatively short space of time! Fortunately Eastbourne abounds with charity shops so we were able to share out our donations among several shops rather than overwhelm one with our largesse! Our two sons-in-law very kindly hired a ubiquitous white van and came down to help us with the move. We were rather concerned that the van might not be large enough to swallow it all, but in true ‘Tardis’ fashion it seemed bigger on the inside than the out, and comfortably accommodated all our stuff with a little room to spare.

Once we arrived home the business of unpacking and finding homes for everything is still on going. Every time I turn around I discover another box waiting to be unpacked, and the goods distributed around our home, the job seems never ending! Still it is great to be back, and I am determined that I am NEVER moving again until they carry me out in my own little box! Trouble is, I remember saying that last time we moved!