So for the past week C and I have been up north visiting family and friends. We’ve mainly been based in the family caravan in Bamburgh and we’ve kept ourselves busy seeing some of the great places that the North East has to offer. I’ve loved spending quality time with my daughter away from the hubbub of everyday life where we can focus on having a good time and forget about chores. But do you know what? I’ve really missed home. J has still been at home and working during the week and when we’ve caught up via phone or text I’ve been bombarding him with questions about the chickens and the veg and what’s been happening. I should point out here that of course C and I have also missed J but given that he used to work away all week we’re quite good in some respects at being apart for short periods. It has been nice to put C to bed at 7 and then just chill for the rest of the evening. No watering or feeding chickens or weeding or washing or clearing up to do. Being able to put my feet up (I’ve massively missed having a sofa so it’s lovely to have one this week) and just watch TV and mess about on my iPad is lovely. But do you know what? If I was doing this everyday I do think I’d get bored. There has been no sense of achievement and seeing something which I’ve worked hard on being completed. And let’s face it there is a lot of rubbish on TV. If I was watching TV normally of an evening I’d also be doing a bit of knitting or something creative but in the rush to leave I forgot to pack the cardigan I’m working on for C. But in a way that’s been nice. A bit of time out has reinforced that I love our life and really want to keep on living it with my little family. I can’t wait to get back to it and J.