New Beginnings

Open doors and fresh paths....

I'm writing this post sitting at my recently purchased Victorian Davenport desk, looking out onto a green vista with rolling fields spilling into the horizon and stately oak trees silhouetted against the sky. I'm writing from my new home in Yorkshire.

What a difference a few months make, eh?

I'd promised myself this afternoon off, to relax with a book, as I haven't read one so far in July (most unlike me), and after the flurry of moving (not an easy task during a pandemic), packing, unpacking and furnishing a new home, I'm feeling a little strung out. I have almost finished The Greengage Summer by Rumer Godden, which, although set in France, feels especially apt right now, as I too - just like the Bullock children - feel I am living a strange, enchanted and life-altering summer. After all, I have changed my life: I've moved from London to the depths of Yorkshire. I've exchanged busy streets, endless entertainment, tube stops and the constant hum of traffic for verdure, lilting birdsong and winding country lanes. In the evenings, I listen to the last sleepy chirrups from blackbirds and - a little further off - the occasional bleat of sheep. I peer out of the window to watch the white flash of rabbit tails as they scamper across the cropped lawn to the safety of the meadow.

I couldn't be happier.

Eager as I am, though, to finish Godden's classic novel, I've put the book aside today to write about my move, because I have had yet another query on instagram: why? Since announcing my move, my inbox has been flooded with 'whys:' Why did you move? Why Yorkshire?Why now? So today, I'm sitting down to write you an answer.

First of all, it's important to say that experiencing London under lockdown due to Covid-19 was not pleasant. In fact, it was claustrophobic and frightening. Both my mother and I have health conditions that put us at higher risk of complications if we caught the virus, so we were both continually worried about the other. Our small flat felt even more cramped. I barely stepped outside for weeks on end. We had no balcony, no garden; opening the windows brought in even more black dust from the busy street and barely any breeze. We felt very lucky that we were healthy, as were our loved ones, but - as for everyone - March, April and May especially were very anxious and difficult times.

I've fulfilled one of my life-long ambitions of having a kitchen dresser!

I was working hard, but realising more and more that the type of content I wanted to create didn't involve a London lifestyle. I looked at the dozens of volumes of nature books I'd bought over the past few years and for the first time considered what my subconscious was telling me. And then my Mum was made redundant and we started to ask 'what if?' What if we moved out of London? What if we took a leap of faith? Investigating rentals, we realised we could enjoy more space for less money if we moved to the countryside. The idea of living at a gentler pace was also appealing. And we could have some of that fresh air we were - by this time - desperately craving. But where should we go? Driven by our desire for more space on a small budget, we turned our thoughts North.

At the kitchen table, on one of our first mornings in our new home

Years ago (before I'd started this blog), we'd holidayed in North Yorkshire twice and fallen in love with the area. We started to look up properties in the Yorkshire Dales. And then we found it: the ideal place, available for long-term rental. The house was so perfect it felt somehow fated: we were meant to live here. Because of the coronavirus travel complications, we had to say 'yes' to the place before we'd even seen it in person, but as soon as we arrived I knew we hadn't made a mistake.

Our new home occupies part of a wing of a country manor house and is surrounded by beautiful grounds. It has large, high-ceilinged, elegant rooms with shutters at the windows and bell-pulls by the doors and mantelpieces. My bedroom retains hand-painted wall-paper from the late 19th Century. I feel rather as if I've skipped Mr Darcy, but wound up in Pemberley anyway (or at least a fraction of it!). Jane Austen, no doubt, would entirely approve.

My bedroom

I won't be disclosing my exact location, so please don't ask, but I am very much looking forward to sharing my experiences of getting to grips with country life with you all, as well as my explorations throughout Yorkshire and Northern Britain. I've already started to visit some of the glorious gardens not too far from us. Of course, once I feel safe to travel by train, I'll be popping back to London plenty too; it's not like I'm gone for good! London will always have a piece of my heart, but I'm looking forward to fresh adventures and pastures new.

I hope you'll enjoy following this new chapter of my life.