Jul 30, 2009 21:27
I'm moving to the UK to live for three months next Saturday. How strange. After thirteen years of not living in the country of my birth and childhood I shall be back as a super grown up person. I don't know if I am old enough or young enough to go back! Should I visit my old house again? I'm afraid it has been desecrated (I suspect is has as I know they concreted over our lovely front garden - no more lavender).
And my Uncle Raul who used to always be there died from a stroke nearly three years ago now. And that's strange too. He worked for British Airways and always used to pick us up from the airport.
And I no longer read Enid Blyton books. Because I got sick of George being as good as a boy.