Alas, we head south tomorrow.
Mini-Husband isn't happy about going home. He's told me and Hubster on the phone last night that we have to promise him that if we don't fix the roof, and we need to change house, we change to one in England.
I love that he feels such a strong connection to this place. And why shouldn't he? He was born here. Just like his daddy and his aunt, uncles and cousins. He was 15 months old when we moved to France, but he can point out our old house every time we pass it. He loves being with his grandparents and watching CeeBeebies all day long. England is magic to him.
This part of England is chalky cliffs and coast line, constantly being teased by the North Sea. There are wide bays that change constantly with every tide and every swell. There is a promenade that runs for miles along the cliffs and one can easily meander between the beaches that pop up around practically every corner.
When we lived here, we weren't very far from St Mildred's, a bit of tidal beach with two cafes and a boat slip. It was a favourite spot for Hubster and me. We would take Luna-the-Love-Dog there and let her run free along the rocks and sand. Who knew a Malamute would love catching crabs so much! We'd wander with her down the sands until we had to join the promenade again and then continue on to Hubster's parent's house. Grandma was (and is still) always wonderful about offering us a warming cup of tea when we arrived.
Hubster asked me to marry him on that spot of sand at St Mildred's. My life as part of a "we" started here. And as I ran past that beach today on the promenade, all my memories embraced my heart, and I see just how magic this England is to me too. I can understand Mini-Husband's attachment to this place.
That being said, I'm ready to be home. I miss France. I miss Anouk. I even miss hearing my morning wake up song performed by Typhon.
But more importantly, I miss my Hubster. I want to be in that world of us right now.
And I really, really hope we get that roof fixed.