So, it seems that I upset people with my last post and I am sorry.
As a wannabe writer, I spend a lot of time being told that you SHOW DON'T TELL!!!!!!!
And I had hoped, that with my descriptions of beautiful sunrises, stories of Saxon coin burials, all the excitement of my new job – which, by the way, is going to be a VERY damp squib, when I eventually reveal all! - and my saying how inordinately lucky we are to live here, I was doing quite a good job of SHOWING that I was generally very happy with our decision to move to this area.
However, it appears that, instead, I was giving an impression of deep and abiding misery and hatred for England. So I guess I need to TELL a lot more. I LOVE BUCKINGHAMSHIRE! I LOVE THIS AREA. I don't like the cold and the black ice, BUT I REALISE THAT I COULD BE STARVING IN A GARRET.
However, though I DO consider myself lucky, in every way, I CAN'T pretend that there aren't moments when I feel very homesick. I lived in Australia for almost twice as long as I have ever lived in any one place. I had a lot of friends there - most I will never see again. I had pupils I taught every week – some I saw for several hours a week and had done for many years – and I will probably never see most of them ever again. I had a dog who was my almost constant companion, who I had nursed through many illnesses and loved very much and I have had to leave him. While I am very glad to be close to my family and friends –half of them are b*******g off to live in other countries in the next couple of months. And, in the interest of other people who may be considering the move, I felt it important to be honest about my feelings.
I am sure that when we have beds to sleep on and pianos and cleaning equipment, I will be ready to forget my friends and life in Australia, but please forgive me if I am selfish enough to feel down about it sometimes now and to admit to it. I promise never to mention it again. I promise I will be a positive shining bubble of light forever more.