Sunday, 16 October 2016

Moving Times

Two weeks ago, The Gentleman Farmer ceased paid employment, and this week, we completed the sale of our home in East Yorkshire. We had lived in this small town for 27 years, and in this former vicarage, a Victorian house in 1/3 acre of garden for more than 20 of those years.


We raised our children there, held parties, laughed and cried; so many happy memories. We spent time and energy turning a house into a home.


We have sold to a lovely young couple, with children the exact same ages ours were when we moved in, and are confident that the house is in good hands.


However, a house is bricks and mortar. We will so miss the many good friends we have made over the years, and we look forward to welcoming you all to our new home.

Saturday, 1 October 2016

Hiatus

hiatus
hʌɪˈeɪtəs/
noun
  1. a pause or break in continuity in a sequence or activity.

Apologies for our absence. A recent comment nudged me to explain the recent gap in posting. At the end of July, I was diagnosed with breast cancer, following a routine mammogram screen. The weeks since then have passed in a blur of hospital appointments, scans, minor op, and the first of six rounds of chemotherapy last week.

Having nothing interesting to blog about, coupled with an inability to bring just the right words to mind, have left the blog sadly neglected.

Somebody suggested that I blog about the illness and treatment. We won't be doing that. Firstly, there are plenty of health and wellbeing blogs already. Secondly, this blog is about our farm, and thirdly, I am protective of details of my health, to ensure the privacy of my family and other loved ones.

Once my treatment is over, I plan a piece praising the excellent treatment we have received from the NHS, as absolutely no cost to us at the point of delivery. I rail against any plans to privatise this service. I know that it isn't perfect, but when I discovered that each round of my chemotherapy drugs cost £5000, I was amazed. That is Thirty Thousand of your English Pounds, just for the chemo drugs. Not to mention the time of nurses, surgeons, consultants, GPs, lab staff, ancillary staff; associated prescription drugs; operations; scans and a wig, and probably a whole heap more costs of which I am unaware.

So please bear with us - I will get better, our farm will be delayed slightly, but we have big plans, and can't wait to get started properly once my treatment is over in the spring.


I leave you with a gratuitous picture of a blanket I knitted for the youngest person I know. Welcome to the world Baby G - may you have a long, happy and healthy life.