One year on…

Right, I’m a day late. But it’s been a year (and a day) since we made the big move back to East Yorkshire. To village life. To family.

I went for a run this morning – no need to drive to the canal like I used to – I can run a perfect 5k route straight from the house. While I was being advised to Work Bitch by Britney, I was looking around and thinking about how much our lives have changed in the last year.

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Babyproofing

We’re a lot more relaxed about babyproofing this time around.  Not that we don’t want Jude to be any less safe than Scarlett, obviously, but we know what was worthwhile from doing it all last time around.

Everything dangerous is clearly out of reach.  There are a lot of extra cupboards in this house that we didn’t have in the last house, which is handy.  They even left us a lockable medicine cabinet.  Plug covers are contentious… we bought them last time, and then threw them away after reading that they actually make the plug live, so we haven’t got those again.

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The art of walking with nowhere to go

IMG_6270I like walking.  It’s probably borne from the need, because I learned how to drive a bit later than most, but I’d rather walk to the shop than jump in the car.  Unfortunately – and I’ve mentioned this before – that’s one thing we’ve had to sacrifice to live here – there’s no shop.

In fact, other than houses and farms, there are only two other buildings in this village – the village hall and the church next door.

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A loooong year

If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you may remember that we put our house up for sale a year ago.  Just over a year ago, actually.  I looked up the date.

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For sale

Our house is up for sale!  I’m sad, nervous and excited in equal measure.  It’s the house we nagged and nagged Barratts to reduce until they gave in, and it’s the house we struggled with mortgage payments for three tough years to pay until we were out of our insane fixed rate.

It’s the house we fell in love with because of the bedroom at the top with all the light.  The one where we went to the showhouse six times with different groups of people before they’d even accepted an offer.  It’s the kitchen project that we needed at a difficult time in our lives.

This is the house where we brought Scarlett after she was born.  This was where she had her first bath.  Her first bedroom.  The garden was where she had her first unaided steps. Continue reading