Thanks for popping in. Wet n dreary this afternoon in Kent. But hey! If you don’t like the English weather, just wait a minute! Two weeks from now we will all have had enough of the heat wave which is imminent, and be praying for rain!
It’s a funny old life, innit. Years ago, and for many years, we lived in a really old farm (built 1412) in the middle – and I mean the MIDDLE – of nowhere, with no neighbours to speak of, and no proper road. We loved it. The kids loved it and hated it at the same time. They loved the fields and the brooks and the hours of building bridges and damms and climbing trees. Then at the same time they hated the time it took to get anywhere and hated the isolation and the lack of contact with other humans. We loved that isolation, that removal from mainstream life.
Then we moved to Crowborough in East Sussex, to another newer farm (built 1650). Not in the middle of nowhere, but close to a main road, with a bus stop right outside the front door. Yep. If I want to go to Brighton, I stand on our side of the road; if I want to go to Tunbridge Wells, I stand on the other side of the road. It’s very noisy, with all the cars piling past, and there’s nothing more offputting than the peeps on the upper deck of the bus all staring directly into your bedroom. I have moaned about it since the day we arrived. The kids love that the bus stops right outside our front door!
Well, at Easter we visited our good friends Mike and Shona Bossom in Wales for a few days, remember? Now, where they live, mae hynny’n dawel (Means THAT’S QUIET in Welsh). So when we got home, our road noise seemed even louder, and there were even more people on the top deck, staring at me!
But. It’s all relative.
Last weekend we were in New York. Noisy doesn’t cut it. It was bedlam compared to London, let alone Crowborough!!! What a racket!!! Sirens, bibbing, people shouting, motorbikes roaring – 24 hours a day. If you sat in a restaurant, you couldn’t hold a decent conversation because the noise levels of people just talking were so high, and just got higher as the evening and the vino progressed. We ended up shouting at each other too! Even a little afternoon nap was a farce, because the entire New York Hells Angel Chapter was clearly holed up next door, and evidently decided to ride out just as we closed our eyes! And by the sounds of it, every one of them was kitted out with Screaming Eagles pipes! Mental.
Then there was the heat on Sunday. HOT?? Heissenscheissen HOT!!! Oh boy. Way too hot to be outside; it was as if the pavements were heated. So you went inside (with all the other overheated people) to where the AC was ice cold. Am I getting too old for this lark?
So this morning, we woke up early, to the sound of blackbirds singing in the garden. Dave opened the window – and it was beautifully tranquil, sunny and but fresh, wonderfully quiet. Admittedly, it was 6am, but nonetheless, silent. Which just goes to prove, that it really IS all relative. Spend a week in Wales, and our home is too loud. Spend a week in New York, and our home is an oasis of calm. I will never again complain about the bus or the traffic outside our house.
Loved being with Grace and her Mark, love New York in small doses – don’t think I could live there though. Not in the middle of that lot. Maybe that’s why Grace lives there now, and why Mark lives in San Francisco (another busy bustling city). Perhaps they need to make up for the isolation years of their youth!
Time to go find Dave.
Love & Hugs,
Grateful of East Sussex. aka Barb xxx