Borde Hill - "Borde Hill Garden is nestled in 200 acres of English Heritage listed Sussex parkland and woodland, with wonderful views across the Sussex Weald and the magnificent Ouse Valley. The garden is home to a nationally important collection of rare shrubs, champion trees and exotic plants."
Yesterday was a day for deep contemplation, which was not what I had in mind!
On entering the garden the first thing that I found was a beautiful wooden bench curved around a small tree. It reminded me so much of the Mediterranean that I had to take time out to sit there in the early morning sun.
Whilst there I found my mind wandering to our holiday home in Fondespierre, France. We'd put it on the market in February this year and have had a few bites on and off, but nothing concrete. Each time Muriel (the owner of the campsite where the mobile home is located) contacted me to tell me that someone was interested, I'd always feel a frisson of sadness - I don't wanna let it go. As a result, it wouldn't sell.
I've been giving myself stern 'talking tos' for months, but my heart isn't in it. I love the Med so much I don't want to leave.
Logically my brain is telling me that with our impending move to Australia, it wouldn't be practical to keep the chalet as a mere indulgence of the heart. We have no idea whether we will ever venture out this way again as there is so much in Asia that we want to explore. I have to let it go and yet with the doubts in the back of my mind and the yearning of my heart, I am unable to do so.
Once again, we find out that someone is prepared to put in an offer, and again I feel that deep seated cry of 'no!'
Sitting on that bench yesterday morning had me remembering all the things about the Mediterranean that I love. As I basked in the sunshine, no-one around, I swam in the happiness, joy, laughter, sunshine, the family get-togethers and love that the Med represents to me. It always makes me feel like I've come home. I don't think it is the letting go of the chalet that is the issue (although it has 8 years of wonderful memories), but the breaking of the ties with the Med that it represents.
I often wonder if dry, hot dusty places always stir memories of childhood holidays spent in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, which I so enjoyed or maybe its my teenage years spent in Windhoek, Namibia? I love dry dusty landscapes and yet I love the lush beauty of England and surrounds. Or could it simply be the sense of community created with the extended family holidays? I have good memories of many places that I love, but cannot be everywhere!
I found myself almost glued to the seat in a place I didn't want to leave. Finally, a cocoon of gentle calm acceptance found its way inside me - I can make new memories filled with the same wonderful feelings - we've done it before.
And yet this morning as I sit here writing, a lump is forming in my throat in juxtaposition with the sense of peace that I feel.
My mind is like a dog with a bone - not letting go of the logical questions it constantly poses -
How am I going to do this?
I really really really want to be in Australia with our daughter, my nephew and his wife and our dear friends and yet I want to be in Europe as well.
My heart has no such fears - it believes it is possible to do both - maybe not initially as long as Greg and I are working - but there is something in the future that will allow us to travel without ties to a 'job'. With time it will sort itself out.
Eventually I moved on (with a wet bum as it had been raining the night before!) and found so much to delight in - English rose garden, Italian garden, garden of Allan, ruins, and a beautiful stone manor house - sculptures everywhere. The house is still occupied, so we weren't able to get in and look around.
We stopped for lunch in the restaurant. Whilst deciding what we wanted to eat at the counter, someone came in to tell her husband that it was raining outside.
Eh?
We'd just come in from sunshine. It was a brief shower, but we landed up inside the conservatory instead of outside, which we later regretted. As soon as the sun came out we started to boil!
After this we headed out into the surrounding woodland. Despite the cool climate, there are so many exotic plants thriving here. We found a farm of pheasant (probably bred for hunting season) and a herd of young cows. We also heard something tapping (which we initially thought was a woodpecker). Although difficult to see as they blend in so well with the bark, we did catch sight of several of the birds as they climbed the tree. They looked nothing like a woodpecker - were a sort of dull colour with very long beaks - we think they might be Treecreepers.
Yesterday was a day for deep contemplation, which was not what I had in mind!
On entering the garden the first thing that I found was a beautiful wooden bench curved around a small tree. It reminded me so much of the Mediterranean that I had to take time out to sit there in the early morning sun.
Whilst there I found my mind wandering to our holiday home in Fondespierre, France. We'd put it on the market in February this year and have had a few bites on and off, but nothing concrete. Each time Muriel (the owner of the campsite where the mobile home is located) contacted me to tell me that someone was interested, I'd always feel a frisson of sadness - I don't wanna let it go. As a result, it wouldn't sell.
I've been giving myself stern 'talking tos' for months, but my heart isn't in it. I love the Med so much I don't want to leave.
Logically my brain is telling me that with our impending move to Australia, it wouldn't be practical to keep the chalet as a mere indulgence of the heart. We have no idea whether we will ever venture out this way again as there is so much in Asia that we want to explore. I have to let it go and yet with the doubts in the back of my mind and the yearning of my heart, I am unable to do so.
Once again, we find out that someone is prepared to put in an offer, and again I feel that deep seated cry of 'no!'
Sitting on that bench yesterday morning had me remembering all the things about the Mediterranean that I love. As I basked in the sunshine, no-one around, I swam in the happiness, joy, laughter, sunshine, the family get-togethers and love that the Med represents to me. It always makes me feel like I've come home. I don't think it is the letting go of the chalet that is the issue (although it has 8 years of wonderful memories), but the breaking of the ties with the Med that it represents.
I often wonder if dry, hot dusty places always stir memories of childhood holidays spent in Bulawayo, Zimbabwe, which I so enjoyed or maybe its my teenage years spent in Windhoek, Namibia? I love dry dusty landscapes and yet I love the lush beauty of England and surrounds. Or could it simply be the sense of community created with the extended family holidays? I have good memories of many places that I love, but cannot be everywhere!
I found myself almost glued to the seat in a place I didn't want to leave. Finally, a cocoon of gentle calm acceptance found its way inside me - I can make new memories filled with the same wonderful feelings - we've done it before.
And yet this morning as I sit here writing, a lump is forming in my throat in juxtaposition with the sense of peace that I feel.
My mind is like a dog with a bone - not letting go of the logical questions it constantly poses -
How am I going to do this?
I really really really want to be in Australia with our daughter, my nephew and his wife and our dear friends and yet I want to be in Europe as well.
My heart has no such fears - it believes it is possible to do both - maybe not initially as long as Greg and I are working - but there is something in the future that will allow us to travel without ties to a 'job'. With time it will sort itself out.
Eventually I moved on (with a wet bum as it had been raining the night before!) and found so much to delight in - English rose garden, Italian garden, garden of Allan, ruins, and a beautiful stone manor house - sculptures everywhere. The house is still occupied, so we weren't able to get in and look around.
We stopped for lunch in the restaurant. Whilst deciding what we wanted to eat at the counter, someone came in to tell her husband that it was raining outside.
Eh?
We'd just come in from sunshine. It was a brief shower, but we landed up inside the conservatory instead of outside, which we later regretted. As soon as the sun came out we started to boil!
After this we headed out into the surrounding woodland. Despite the cool climate, there are so many exotic plants thriving here. We found a farm of pheasant (probably bred for hunting season) and a herd of young cows. We also heard something tapping (which we initially thought was a woodpecker). Although difficult to see as they blend in so well with the bark, we did catch sight of several of the birds as they climbed the tree. They looked nothing like a woodpecker - were a sort of dull colour with very long beaks - we think they might be Treecreepers.
