Long time no hear

I know had a lot of issues to deal with including depression. Not nice staring at the world through a big bubble and not being part of it but hey I'm getting there. Now I can smell the flowers, I can feel the rain and appreciate the warmth of the sun but there are still times when the darkness reappears and the bubble becomes almost as real as it did before but not quite.

But (and are you ready for this) I'm writing again. Okay the best seller that is going to make me millions is still in the back of the freezer, not defrosted, never mind cooked and ready to serve but short stories are appearing, at least on the computer with quite a frightening regularity. One has been sent to a poor unsuspecting editor and two are at the red pen stage being scored and shouted at with the odd naughty word thrown in. I know that some of you will find this hard to believe seeing as I am such a quiet, gentle, delicate little creature but even us shy violets have to give vent to our annoyance at times.

And more news. I'm moving house. What again? But this time, I think it will be for quite a long time. The powers that be, the occupational therapist, the housing association, the medics, the quacks the caretakers have decided that I'm not safe here anymore so I'm being moved to a bungalow. Now for some, a bungalow at the age of fifty might sound a bit off but for it's sounds like heaven. No more stairs. No more coming down on my bum when the legs and back have packed up. Oh and no more kids. They're moving too, they're having a place of their own.

But let me tell you about Bucknell, where I should be going. It's a quiet village practically on the border between England Wales but fortunately the fortifications were moved and not one but two pubs were put there to entertain the locals once bashing the Welsh became a thing of the past. It also has a shop.  So no longer will I have a ten mile round trip when I've forgotten the milk (must have a chat to them about selling wine) I can 'pop to the shop.'

Bucknell is bigger than Clunbury, considerably bigger but it's a funny place but it's a funny place because the houses are interspersed with fields so possibly if my neighbours do pop their heads over the fence they will chew the vegetation in my garden like they do now.

But like a lot of this part of south Shropshire it is a quiet place where people come to retire. The gentle hum of village life will continue to surround me and the slow pace of traffic that I've become accustomed to, will also prevail. To give you an example of exactly how peaceful Bucknell is see below

Hey looks like fun and yes this did happen in Bucknell.