I don't often yearn for my previous life, in Smallsville, England...

...the (almost) eternal bright lights and sunshine of BigCity, USA, seem to blind me from the memories of wind and wuthering...

.. of wrapping up, in layer upon layer of warm clothes and gladly, walking to the corner shop (a 3mile round trip) for a forgotten loaf of bread.

.. or opening the door, to a pint of milk (20oz - bottled) silver top, already pecked open by the birds.

OF COURSE I miss my family - it's not easy to know you can't drop by to help, when someone gets sick - or just needs a hug..

You know....THAT'S the biggest part of the deal!!!

..can you and yours, put your own hopes and dreams BEFORE those of other loved ones???

Sometimes you just HAVE to - or you stifle yourself and spend a lifetime of regret..pining for what might have been.

..selfish? - of course! ..necessary? - I think so!

So why now? - what makes me think like this today?

I had a 'conversation' with a friend recently - it led to the moors, to howling winds and Wuthering Heights..
..to childhood Sunday's with steaming baked potatoes,
..and then, to a slight hint of sadness,
..and finally, a burst of pride...

..because, although I may have laid my hat in the desert, those dark satanic mills and whistling windy moors are where my roots are....the very fibre of my being!!



Post Script..(And what of the family?)..

I received a package today - a big box, with 24 individually wrapped parcels in it - a grown up advent calendar from my Mum - (6000 miles away) - and an instruction to open one, per day, whilst sitting with my feet up and a mug of coffee (or an alternative, of my choice) in hand.

Did I shed a tear? - what would YOU Do??