London was fun, but frantic. Jet lag coupled with the need to get out and see and do as much as possible meant we were all fairly ragged by the time we left.
When we arrived on this little island in the middle of the River Severn, I dropped my bags in the house, kicked off my shoes and stood barefoot in the grass in the front yard, just looking. It struck me that I’m really not a big city kind of person. I enjoy visiting them, and I certainly appreciate the things they offer you can’t get elsewhere.
But here, in the space and quiet, the green and the gently rushing weir as a backdrop, I feel like I can breathe more deeply.
So we have all taken the time to go a little more slowly. (Except Tony, who delivered a conference paper this morning). We have watched the narrowboats go through the locks. We have walked to the shops through tree lined walking trails
and played spot the plants we don’t see in Australia.
There is a lovely sunny front garden, that has given the kids time to crawl, and explore, and sit, and leap.
There’s also a fairly well stocked kitchen, which has meant I can regain some of my equilibrium by doing one of my favourite things. Being able to cook while looking out the front door to a river certainly adds charm! (As an aside, in terms of holiday cottage cooking, a while back we bought two knives for the sole purpose of taking with us to self-catering accommodation. They’re mid range, good workhouse knives, and we have them with us now. It makes a big difference having good sharp knives to work with, and makes any holiday kitchen just a bit more practical).
This afternoon, I engaged in some backyard to plate kitchen alchemy. It doesn’t get more local (or delicious) than this.