Eight Years

 It’s the 8th anniversary of Damson Cottage today. Eight years! Where’s it gone? I’ve been humming that song, you know the one that goes: 

‘Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think,

Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink,

The years go by as quickly as you wink,

Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think!’

And we have enjoyed ourselves here. There have been ups and downs, of course there have, because that’s life, but we’ve never once regretted the decision to leave my home town in Kent and move here, into the middle of fields. A psychic once told me I’d find peace and happiness in the middle of fields, and he was right. 

One thing I do miss, though, is being able to pop round for a cuppa and a chat with two of my very good friends, Jane and Jean. I was trying to work out how far back our respective friendships go; it must be over thirty five years with Jane and fourteen years with Jean, who was the best teaching assistant a girl could ever ask for. Funnily enough, a postcard arrived from Jean today…

It did make me laugh! I sent her a ‘thank you’ message and said I could always start charging! And even though I’m miles away from Jane and Jean, we’ve continued to chat away like I still live just around the corner. The only difference is that I can no longer say, ‘I’ll pop round for a cuppa.’ Proper friendships aren’t restricted by distance. 

I’ve moved my rocking chair back into my office. It’s been living in the bedroom for a while but I got the urge to claim it as a meditation chair and it fits nicely in the corner between a bookshelf and a small table. When it was in the bedroom it was studiously ignored by Bambino Bobble Wilson. But now it is installed in my office, it’s suddenly become his favourite sleeping place. Even though he is a bit of a pudding and can barely fit on the seat…