So what a hiatus! I am so sorry. Life took over. However, I am back now and about to start a new series of posts about a new and exciting family adventure. We have moved to Devon! Ilfracombe to be precise. Don’t all rush here! It’s my little secret. So how did we get here? It’s been a dream of Mr G and mine for quite some time now. We independently fell in love with the West Country as children. Me… so many holidays I have lost count spent with my parents and siblings in Cornwall (mainly the Helford area) and Devon (all over). Mr G… Padstow, Rock, Pentewan, Croyde, Woolacombe… So we spent last summer in Woolacombe and visited Ilfracombe – the home of Damien Hirst – and fell in love. Like proper, proper, passionate love. I have been here before. Many years ago and during another lifetime when I was married to my ex husband. Nothing was tarnished though. It was like coming home. My heart soared. The light, the lush foliage, the craggy nature of the rock face, the smell of the sea. Ilfracombe beguiled me. Literally. And also Mr G. We stopped off at a parking stop on the cliffs between Hele Bay and Combe Martin and looked over at Ilfracombe, held hands and said to each other… ‘let’s do it’. We went home to East Sussex. Put the house on the market. And waited. Bloody Brexit. Nothing happened. Still nothing happened. Then I was offered a job of a lifetime in Brighton so I said yes. Started in January of this year and then sod’s law we had buyers who were uber keen. What to do? The dream was calling. But I had this incredible, challenging, creatively exciting job… So I kept the job and we sold the house and bought a vast doer-upper in the heights of Ilfracombe. It’s a four-storey Victorian terrace. The ceiling height is bonkers. The views are sublime. Out the back is the sea, Capstone Hill, Hillsborough, Wales, the Bristol channel, and all the ships and boats, tall ships, fishing boats, vast floating hotels and canoeists, ribs, life boats that you can imagine. At the front is a stunning Norman church that is bathed in brilliant red/pink light at the end of the day. Everywhere I look is replete with light and nature. The sunsets are out of this world. There is something incredibly spiritual about sitting in our living room by the huge bay window and seeing the sun set over the sea. Turner springs to mind. The colours are incredible. It feels like God’s own country. I tell you honestly, I was pretty low at the end of last year. This place has elevated my spirit beyond belief. And that of the whole family I think. Mr G is far more animated and is taking photos left, right and centre. The house has become a passion of ours. She is a she and we are going to breathe a whole lot of new life into her. She has a soul. Palpable. I run my hands over her banister, marvel at her huge doors, feel the warmth bouncing off her walls. This home is smiling. I hope you join us on this adventure and enjoy the ride.
Huge apologies for the radio silence. It’s literally been months. Well I have had my third little bundle of joy. He arrived safe and sound in May and has been eating his way through day and night ever since. He is a robust little monkey and adored by the whole family. But I won’t waffle on about my beautiful little baby boy too much, promise. Suffice to say the house is a tip, every job is half finished, the garden is a jungle and I have just about learned not to get anxious as a result! It won’t last forever is what I keep telling myself.
So as I seem to spend most of my time of late in a sleep-deprived, fairly hallucinogenic state I do a lot of daydreaming. Pretty much all my poor baby brain can deal with right now. And what I am dreaming about is sunshine… yes lots of sunshine. What is going on with this so-called summer of ours?! I am not impressed. And as I am cultivating a jungle outside at the moment, I am also dreaming of beautiful outside spaces. So here are some gorgeous pics to help you mentally escape the greyness currently gracing our British skies. Blah to grey is all I can say! Enjoy. (All images from pinterest)