I have been pining so badly for Cornwall for the last four weeks that this morning, when we got up and packed to come down here, I couldn’t quite believe the day had come. Once again, I was forced to concede to David’s good sense last night and we waited until this morning to make the journey, rather than tackle it late last night when we were both tired. It’s the second time in a week that he’s applied the brakes for me and made a decision that stopped me doing something silly - I was all set to get off the plane on Saturday morning and go to WHL for the footie but again, he was so much more sensible than me and he said ‘no way!’

So, tonight I sit at the table in the cottage, typing this while DM laughs at some of the suggestions in a photography magazine and the dogs snooze after a medium length walk - I got my boots on but couldn’t cope with the rough terrain very well with my limp so we ambled around the dressing floor of South Caradon while the dogs splashed in the Seaton and chased sticks that DM was slinging around for them. DM was shooting with his Mju and I captured the sight here!

I’m going backwards with my story for today and my only excuse is having an addled brain. When we were getting ready to take the dogs out, I went upstairs looking for some socks to wear in my boots, came downstairs and saw this sight. Our boots, my wonderful Ecco boots that have been worn to death and sprung a leak last time we were here are on their last legs now, in front of our Stovax cast iron stove that was installed before Christmas and is our main source of heat in the house for the time being (until we find a Rayburn that is the right spec for the house).

We’ve done well to get through the winter with this one heat source and now the pressure is off to find the Rayburn because we can now get by until next winter.

Mother Nature decided to give everything a good wash overnight for us so the fields and hedgerows have been sparkling and vibrant with the bright, acidic green of new growth starting to push through the debris left from last year. She did it specially for us. The hedgerows, full of colour now, saw clumps of daffodils joyfully waving us along our route and the primroses winked in the sunshine.

Leaving behind the exhaust-choked and exhausting South East is like peeling away layers of misery and revealing a newer, more vital, sparkling person. I’m still tired but nowhere near as care-worn as I felt yesterday. I feel calm and at one with my world here.

The clouds had returned by the time we turned off the A30 and down the twisty, turny lanes to our little village but they couldn’t deplete our stash of happiness, nor could they muster enough energy to rain on us. By the time we’d got our car unpacked, Erica (neighbour on one side) had been out to say ‘Hi’ and when Becky pulled up after a day out with Fin, she had the biggest smile on her face when she realised we were here. It’s such an alien feeling, yet so exhilarating and so marvellous to be so appreciated - most of our neighbours in Sandhurst couldn’t care if we live or die as long as we don’t bother them.

Last year was magic and I was finding out 'stuff' about myself!