There’s probably a clinical term for the sort of anxiety one feels when one must really get going.
Whatever it is, we felt a very strong compulsion to do just that this morning, albeit not so obsessively compulsed that we couldn’t linger over breakfast with Elle and Jörgen for the sort of time that even a Hobbit would be proud of. After all we had more to catch up on that was possible in just one evening.
The draw of home proved too strong too keep us beyond second breakfast time though and this time we had to forego the sights of Wuppertal in favour of getting home by sunset. One of us hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that we’d missed snow here by two days, but the residual chill was enough to give us a picture of how it may have felt we thought.
Four or five hours later, with the clear blue sky and yellow of the colza seeming to amplify the siren call of the village, lulling us into a false sense of warmth, we arrived, welcomed by friends as ever to the news that it had been snowing yesterday, and if we thought it was cold now tomorrow was going to be minus two and Mr Perkins has broken again and the toilets leak and you must come up for supper....
Sigh. We are home at last.
1 comment
Welcome home!
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