It’s official – ‘home’ is now the South-West!
It finally feels real. To start with, I’ve felt like the visitor I usually am – like I’d be due to pack my bags and return to Norfolk once more, after a brief visit. That’s been the pattern for the last 20 years.
I made my final* departure from dear ol’ Downham Market in my fully-laden camper toward Exeter on the 18th November.
*The fourth run in the van, I moved myself, almost single-handedly, using my little camper – because I worked out that the fuel and time was less expensive than hiring a company to do it all myself, plus with lock-down #2 in full swing, it was just easier that way.
It won’t realllllly be my last departure from Downham, I know I’m going to be visiting lots – but it was the last day of calling it home.
So now, I’m settling in to Exeter – Mum and Dad are taking exquisite care of me temporarily while the house-hunting is ongoing, and, despite being in Tier 2 for Covid restrictions – I’m managing to get out and about just enough to re-orientate myself to the city I last called home in 2000.
I could happily write longer, but thankfully, Lingo is busy with Christmas work, and this post is just intended to be about the snow day – and I should think that, by the time I’m writing this there’s only the smallest pockets of snow remaining.
I love snow. I mean, I reallllllly love snow. Some of my happiest childhood memories involve sledging, snowball fights and building snowpeople (yes, snowpeople – I particularly enjoyed ensuring there was always an anatomically correct snow-lady). So, when my Devon bestie Leigh Ann messaged me excitedly with a voice-clip of her excitedly repeating “Snow, snow, snow” 12 times (yes, I counted) and a screenshot of the weather forecast with the words “tomorrow at dawn” my heart was all a flutter!
We rendezvoused shortly before dawn, and high-tailed it up to Haytor – where there was already a light white dusting covering the ground. We slipped, slid and smiled our way up to the top, and admired the stunning view as the winds whipped around the Tor. We tucked ourselves in on the sheltered side and demolished a flask of tea that Leigh Ann had brought with her (talk about amazing adventure buddy).
A few minutes later and the clouds came down around us and delivered a torrent of giant soft flakes. We twirled around and stuck out our tongues, making daft noises and trying to catch them – I was 8 years old again, and I was home.
Thank you Leigh Ann – it’s so good to be back.
📸 Photo Credit: Leigh Ann – @wildythingsandveg