It’s a long time since I wrote anything on here. And before you ask, No, I haven’t finished the Pooh Corner map yet, and Yes I feel guilty about leaving Simon to keep the blog up to date all on his own.
I’m in a bit of a motivationless morass at the moment. I’m just too hot and itchy (from insect bites) and tired (from waking up at night because I’m too hot and itchy) to be bothered to do anything. I can’t help fantasizing about green, wet, cool places – even though I know that if I was in one, I’d be dreaming of being somewhere warm, dry and sunny. I guess some people are never happy!
So, just for the benefit of all those people who may be envious of our move to the idyllic, sunny rural life in Southern France, here are some of the things I miss about Derby:
- Seeing the ducks on the lake in Markeaton Park.
- Lakes.
- Seeing my children every day.
- Walking the dog in woods full of tall, leafy trees and blackbirds.
- Tall, leafy trees.
- Being able to pass a few moments idle conversation with a stranger in the check-out queue in a supermarket, without having to rehearse every sentence first.
- Carpeted floors and inside window-ledges.
- Dunelm Mills and B&Q.
- Echinacea and Raspberry teabags and Simple moisturizer.
- Knowing what people around me are talking about.
- Knowing what people talking to me are talking about.
- Being able to make jokes and take the mick.
- Drizzle.
- Abundant green gardens with rampant nasturtiums.
- Being able to leave the back door open without worrying about the house filling with heat and insects.
- Being able to sleep under a duvet without melting.
- Being able to sleep.
Of course, I really don’t miss having to go to work every day. I’d have to be insane to miss that. (Although I do miss the fun I used to have there, and the people that made it funny.)
And I don’t miss the relentless sound of the A38, and the sporadic whine of police sirens. And all the chewing gum on all the paving slabs on all the pavements in town. And all the drunken yoofs doing The Mile, and leaving their chewing gum on all the paving slabs on all the pavements in town.
But just for the record – life in Roquetaillade isn’t all a bed of roses.
