Sunday, 10 April 2016

Going Home

I didn’t blog for the whole week last week. Usually I’d feel down about this and like a bit of failure but my lack of presence in the Blogosphere was due to spending five glorious in days in my hometown with my family.

I haven’t spent as much time there since my uni days when we were given what felt like months off to bum around sofa surfing round various family member’s homes, skanking food and being the poor student. I was so excited to go back up to Crewe this time around as my Mum has recently moved back and the kids were all on their Easter Holidays.

I love being home, I love the fact that I have all these people in one little town with all their homes dotted around that I know all care about me and want to see me. I love that I have all these different relationships and conversations that with my people and catch up with them like I only saw them a week ago. Living away from all your family can be quite lonely sometimes, I don’t have and Auntie who I can go around and get Sunday dinner from, or a child to steal and take to some kid place that I really want to go down here. I do have Luke, who is my whole family when I’m here, we’re a good little unit and get by but sometimes, you just need to go home and see all the faces and smell all the smells of home and have Tuesday Chinese, learn about Equestria Girls, go to Funsters, get lost in the Cheshire Countryside and have a cheese and tomato sandwich made by your Grandma.

Family are like fuel they’re all the ingredients that make you who you are and sometimes being apart for so long means I need to re-fuel. They’re the people that you can always be yourself around, whether its stroking each other’s moustaches, laughing at smelly feet and shoving cream eggs whole in your mouth. It’s where traditions were made and standards upheld. Luke understands that sometimes I need to just go home and thankfully, we’re loved within each other’s families enough that when he needs to go home, we’ll go and do all the things that he needs to do.

This time when we went home, we got in a convoy of cars and drove up to the Cheshire Workshops Ltd. and made candles. I hadn’t been here since I was small and the place had grown from a shed in a car park next to a castle to a proper building selling bags of sweets for an extortionate £2 and and a plethora of candles and candle holders. Fortunately, the candle making workshop was only around £6 per person and comes with a holder. I was the only grown up that actually made a candle and there were only kid-sized aprons about – that didn’t stop me wearing one though. After dip dip dipping, drip drip dripping and wipe wipe wiping, I left with a beautiful orange and yellow twist-candle that I will never light.

Next time, I think we need to gather the troops and continue our nostalgic tour of Cheshire and get up Beeston Castle and throw stones down the well and listen for the monster or, paddle in Brereton Heath whilst being mindful of the Crocodiles and walk around the walls of Chester and look out for the ghosts of Roman Soldiers and visit our ‘anne-sisters’ in the graveyard – Damn, my childhood was good.

Photo credit goes to Rhiannon Fox 

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