In a reflective mood

Autumn has that effect on me. As the days shorten and the leaves start to show hints of gold, I often find myself remembering, rather than looking forward, especially on days like today, with its leaden sky and persistent rain. Such a contrast from last Friday, when John and I had a long but very pleasant drive from the heart of rural Wales to that of the English Midlands, to attend a touching and affectionate celebration of the life of one of our oldest friends, whom I met in my first year at university in the mid-60s. 

In the six and a half years since I stopped blogging, this was just the latest in a series of such celebrations and memorials – for two of my four much-loved sisters, one older and one younger - for my dear mother-in-law, sister-in-law and nephew - and for a number of good friends. It was a reminder, if one were needed, of passing time and the fact that life brings constant change. 

Thankfully by no means all the changes have been sad ones. One of the happy and satisfying ones has been the transformation of our three grandsons from gangling schoolboys into (very tall) young men in their early 20s. The eldest is already in his second job since graduation and thoroughly enjoying life in the big city. His younger brother graduated this summer with an excellent degree and is busy job-hunting, and their cousin, the youngest of the three, starts his second year at university this month. 

Another of the happy changes was our adoption four years ago, in the middle of the pandemic, of our beloved black cat, Larry. It was over 20 years since our last cat died and couldn’t be replaced, because we were constantly on the move. We had almost forgotten how totally a cat will take over your life if you let him and of course we did let him, becoming completely besotted with his affectionate nature and endearing ways. We can’t imagine life without him now. 

Talking of Larry, I hear scratching at my study door, which means that it’s his tea-time (his time-keeping is remarkably accurate) and as we all know, dogs have masters, but cats have slaves…

Well, hello again....

Almost six and a half years ago, I published my last post on my old blog to mark our Golden Wedding Anniversary. Although there were still 18 months of our roving retirement to go, somehow it felt like I'd said everything I needed to say about our wonderful peripatetic life, moving between Wales, France and Scotland in turn.

Then came the pandemic and normal life was put on hold. New responsibilities took over, especially caring for John's 96 year-old mother and our newly-acquired rescue cat, so that once travel became possible again, it just didn't happen. In any case we were older and not as fit as we used to be, and long journeys had lost their appeal. Reluctantly we put first the little Scottish bungalow, then our much-loved French cottage, on the market, and to our amazement sold each of them within days.

Now we are simply at home, firmly rooted in our beloved corner of Mid-Wales, to which we moved over half a century ago. Life is slow and quiet, but still enjoyable and, inspired by the example of a couple of blogging friends on Facebook, I think it may still be worth chronicling. Only time will tell...