I haven't written anything much on here for a while, but what with our BIG MOVE coming up, I thought I might start again now.
For anybody who doesn't know or is remotely interested, we have decided to move back to England at the end of this year.
This decision has come as a big surprise to most people, especially me. After all, most of the emigrating is happening the other way, isn't it? Why would we give up our huge house, with its acre of land and swimming pool, the blue skies, ablaze with sunshine and winged with a multitude of brightly coloured birds, for the joys of living in a tiny, cramped house in Aylesbury? Well, put like that, I'm really not sure.
At the beginning of this year, I didn't think that it had crossed my mind to go back. I have lived in Australia for longer than I've ever lived anywhere in my life and we have been Australian citizens for a while now. But I guess, if I'm honest, the thoughts have been percolating in our brains for a couple of years now. Much as Australia has been wonderful for the last few years, the best possible place to bring up young kids, Rupert and I are both getting to the point where we find we are missing our families, missing the sense of history that only comes from walking down a cobbled street which has felt the tread of centuries, missing the proximity to Europe and its myriad cultures and climates. And, like a blow to the stomach, has come the realisation that we are not getting any younger – that if we left it much longer, it would be almost impossible to make the move back.
It must also be said that the shine of living in this beautiful country, with its safety and freedom and wide open spaces, has been dulled by the thought of those many, many people – including many children – who are being denied that freedom and safety and being locked up like criminals, with little or no hope, by the government of this country. For all the marches I have been on and letters written, the situation doesn't seem to get better and so we are voting with our feet – because surely, the desertion of the Bignalls will bring Tony Abbott to his senses....Well, anyway, we are returning to a country which hardly treats its own refugees any better, but then, at least, we will only have the guilt of one country on our backs....
The news of our impending return to the UK has been met with great joy. My sister Camilla, who, incidentally, is married to Rupert's brother, immediately announced her and John's plans to emigrate to Germany and my youngest sister, Miriam, is absconding, with her husband, to Dubai! Clara maintains that she and her family will be staying in England, whilst keeping busy furnishing their “holiday” house in France. Bernadette seems intent on staying in Hemel Hempstead for the moment, but we shall see how long that lasts...
My eldest sister lives in America so I imagine she thinks she will be safe there, though of course we will be a lot closer to her in England than we are at the moment....As for my parents, they live in France most of the time and their lives are a mystery to everyone else, so who knows. They will probably move to Antarctica when we get back.
As far as Rupert's sister and parents are concerned, we have not yet heard of any plans to skedaddle....Andie??
So, we are now in the infuriating process of selling the house, trying to get our heads around all the things we need to get our heads around - and, for the most part, not succeeding! For more exciting updates and even the odd piece of fascinating news, you know where to find me!