We're off to sunny, sunny Spain

Not just for a holiday this time.

For years we have fantasised about living abroad. Every Friday night after a week in the rat race, we would talk about how we could do it, over a couple of bottles of wine. The ideas seemed so real when all drunk and fuzzy but crashed with a reality every Saturday morning, when we realised that we were probably here for a very long time.

We discussed travelling the world for a year, we talked about buying a caravan and bumbling around Europe, road-schooling the kids - we considered volunteering as a family in places like Ecuador or Columbia.

Every holiday we would look around the place to see if we could live there. Romania too difficult, Cuba impossible, India too mad, France too French but Spain was always just right.

We had lived in Spain before, you see. In Seville, amongst the traditions and ferias - before children when life was different. We can speak the language, love the food and of course the weather is very appealing indeed.

Mallorca felt just right as soon as we landed, it helps that my bezzie lives there as well. We have plotted and schemed, taken the romance out of the move with excel spreadsheet after excel spreadsheet, I have contacted the schools, I have done the maths. We can do this.

We are going to live in Mallorca. We are going in July. We are staying for a year, but probably very much longer.

And yes, the cats are coming with us.

End of an era

It's days like yesterday I miss him most. Those sunny starts to the day, knowing that very soon I would be greeted by warm breath and a velvety nose. It has broken my heart that he is no longer in my life, and like any long relationship that ends, the grieving process takes a while.

Fletch has gone to someone braver and stronger than me. I am sure he will teach them to fly, to win ribbons and to sit tight. Although that was a lot of fun, what I really miss is the stroking, the grooming, the fussing, the touch and his gentle face. I really miss him an awful lot.

And just like when I used to break up with a boyfriend in my teenage years, when I would play records which reminded me of our good times - I have taken to looking at all the photographs of Fletch and I together. With tears rolling gently down my face, adding more puffiness and wrinkles to the already haggard visage, I remember our three years.

I know it will fade, all this hurt, the future is bright for me and my family.

But for now, the comforts of watching us over and over again is helping, hardly believing that it was me up there on that beautiful ginger horse.

Silence

I haven't written a post for a while, not because there is nothing to write about, rather there is a storm in my head. A loud, noisy mess which I am struggling to put in order, struggling to quieten down.

Huge changes are afoot, there is so much to consider. There just never seems to be any time to give the changes any proper thought. The children's demands are no less than when they were toddlers, they are just different but all consuming. He needs me to listen. The horses never stop poo-ing. The house is one problem after another which needs to be solved, let alone the never ending dust and washing piles. 

So to be able to have a moments calm, alone, is rare gift. To empty my head completely and revel in the moment is a scarce delight. And when the silence happens on a cold, but sunny day, my heart can join in the singing.

I took my pony for a walk. He is the size of a big dog. We walked, my pony and I, up the lanes and down the hills. He investigated the icy puddles, tapping them with his hooves. I did not hurry him or berate him for his inquisitiveness. We opened our lungs and ran side by side, smiling. The air was still, time hovered for a second, allowing us both to appreciate the deep beauty of the Kent countryside. Alone. 

And in silence.

The beginning of something new

The cloud of Christmas and New Years Eve has lifted. The fog of celebration has cleared giving me more clarity for the future. The cheese has been eaten, the last Mr Kipling mince pie scoffed and only a few pine needles remain to remind me of the festive season. Thank goodness. Such a mountain to climb at the end of the year - and now finally, I can see the view.

It's time to change. I mean really change. We have pondered on it for years. Either a big trip to exotic locations or maybe move abroad, to see if we like it.

Sussex is nice, it has served me well through the 8 years we have been here. It has provided my toddlers with forests and rock pools, with play groups and friends, Sussex has safely cosseted us from the news, from the terror and abuse. It has been a pleasant place to raise young kids, while my head was mush and I whizzed their meals into slushy dinners.

Except they are nearly 10 and 7 now. Tweens almost. A is nearly ready to enter the world of the mobile phone and popular culture.

So while they still like us, and want to come - I think that 2016 will be a year of great change and adventure.