Coastalblog

Huh. It turns out that this blog is, as of, well, roughly about now-ish, 20 years old. 20. I've been doing this (very intermittently) for twenty bloody years. And, I cannot help but note, still am, for some reason. I've done posts in the past, when this whole thing was comparatively blemish free and dewy-skinned looking back on its history and how it's changed down the years, there's not really a lot of point in doing that again. It's reflected what concerns me at the time, is, I think, the most charitable way of phrasing it (a  polite way of saying that it's been self-absorbed and solipsistic, but then, it's a blog, this should not come as a shock), it's interesting for me to look back over the lists of posts, but not so much for you, I imagine. Likewise, pondering how I've changed in the intervening years is also fairly pointless. It's painfully obvious that I was a very different person at 25 to 45, my experience of jobs and kids and marriage ...

 At the back end of last week, I heard a sound which told me Autumn had truly arrived. It seemed out of place, as we sweltered in unseasonable warmth, but it is as reliable an indicator if the seasons turning as leaves browning. A slightly comical, slightly mournful honking, early in the morning then again at the turn of the day The pink-footed geese are back. It is one of those sounds which is part of the fabric of this place, the siren being tested at Ashworth Hospital means it's Monday, Bringing practice means it's Tuesday, and the migration of the Pinks to their wintering grounds at Martin Mere means it's time to dig the jumpers out. It is one thing I do think I'd miss if I moved away. The arrival of these faintly ludicrous birds, strung out loosely against the sky in their rough v formations is something which seems to have burrowed its way deep into my consciousness, a sign that yes, things are definitely not all they could be, but some things are still working. T...

It's got nothing to do with your Vorsprung Durch Technik you know (one for the teenagers, there). We've been in here a month now, and it's safe to say my life is considerably different to how it once was. Before moving in, my biggest worry about living above the shop was that it would be impossible to delineate where work ends and home life starts. This has been the case to an extent, but I've been pleased to discover that it cuts both ways. What I had feared was that work would take over my life, that I'd be unable to resist just popping downstairs and clearing "just a couple of prep jobs, I won't be ten minutes". I will admit, this has happened, but the reverse is also true, being able to pop upstairs and say goodnight before the kids go to bed is worth the price of admission alone. Likewise finishing service this evening and being able to pop upstairs and have dinner and a glass of wine with Mrs Coastalblog before going back down to supervise the ki...