the next chapter

I feel a little ashamed looking at this blog now - started with such good intentions and then so sadly neglected for the last two years.

But the truth is that I've just been too busy living life and enjoying all that our move south has brought; brighter, drier weather that has meant more weekends away and evenings out walking until the sun sets, dining outdoors at every opportunity and an improvement in health that seems to have brought an end to the bronchitis and pleurisy I was floored with two to three times a year.

Life has a knack of sneaking up and kicking you in the behind when you least expect it though and the sudden loss of Hobbs, after sixteen gloriously happy years, has completely pulled the rug from under our feet and turned our world upside down.

So this year we find ourselves reluctantly starting the next chapter in our lives without him; lives that will now run to a different routine with a different focus, direction and purpose.

What we will never forget though is the joy he brought us by embracing each new day as a fresh adventure, and we owe it to him and his memory to have that same enthusiasm for each and every day that this new year will bring.

With that in mind, I wish you all a wonderful New Year and may 2019 bring you happiness, health and a bright new start to each morning.

reflection and resolutions

The start of a new year and a day of reflection and resolutions; knowing that all of the latter will have melted away like snow by the time Spring comes.

Instead, I'm making myself a promise to be fitter, healthier and happier, and I'm sure the warmer, drier weather here will help play a part in all three. And the weather isn't the only warmth we've enjoyed since we moved here. 

Yesterday, we were welcomed to the home of one of the local cycling group to join the team and their wives for their New Year's Eve lunch. We didn't think that after just a few weeks of moving here we'd be spending an afternoon with such a lovely group of people.

Among then was a woman with the most fabulous name - Salome. She arrived carrying a enormous platter, but far from it containing the head of a rather unfortunate baptist, she unveiled it to reveal a huge - and incredibly delicious - panettone bread and butter pudding. It was like eating a hug.

I can only hope that the last few hours of 2016 gave us a glimpse of how 2017 could be; great food, sparkling company and the sound of laughter and happiness to accompany it all. That's what I wish for us and that's what I wish for all of you. Happy New Year!

starting over

The way I see it, when you're in your forties you can either give in to your mid-life crisis or you can run towards it, arms outstretched to fully embrace it and start your life anew.

Clearly the first option is the easiest, but who ever said that easy is best? Where's the fun in easy? 

Easy doesn't mean dragging your partner and terrier to the other end of the country; starting two new jobs, finding - and moving in to - a new home and selling the old one in the space of one month and a day. 

That's not easy; that's crazy. But that's how we've found ourselves living in beautiful Berkshire.

This morning's dog walk from the back of our house, through the frosty fields and along the banks of the Thames, was accompanied by the sound of a pheasant shoot (I later saw them in the copse and thankfully they didn't look like they'd bagged a single bird) that flushed two deer out onto the path in front of Hobbs and I. 

They glanced back at us, then turned and pronked off round the corner, their heads held high and their tails flashing as white as the frost in the undergrowth as they bounced along. 

Before they'd appeared I'd been thinking about those whose lives had been cut short this year and how you have to take every opportunity that life throws at you. So, while I'll always glance back at my old life fondly, I'm ready to take my partner and my pooch, and pronk off into our new life and whatever that will bring.