I decided to begin this diary with just a little background on how we came to be in England in the first place.
In 1994, after the death of his brother,My husband, A, and Son J, and I decided to up sticks and move to England to look after A's elderly mother, who didn't seem to be coping to well. At this juncture, may I offer a word of advice to anyone who is thinking of moving in with an elderly parent with your family - DON'T DO IT! If I had know about blogging then, I would have starting this diary much sooner as a terrible warning to others. However, what doesn't 't kill you makes you stronger, and fortunately, I'm not dead. I just kept telling myself, "This too shall pass". And three years later, she did (I'm ashamed to admit, I did start humming, 'ding dong, the withch is dead').
All the negative things aside; we moved to a beautiful little postcard perfect village in Somerset, called Hinton St George. Stunning scenery, honey-coloured stone, lots of thatched roofs - and after 3 different landloards, the pub finally found salvation from the current owners, Steve & Michelle. The village is full of interesting people and we have made many good friends which we are very sad to leave. they have all promised to come see us in North Carolina - I just hope they don't all arrive at once!
1 comment:
Hello from Son J. I too had similar feelings about my grandmother, and would offer the same advice, but on the basis that the elderly person was bitter and spiteful, like my grandmother.
I still feel happy though that we made the move, as it gave me a great upbringing (if I do say so myself ^^)
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