Home and away

I've been away for a holiday, out of the country and enjoying some summer that the UK now seems unable to deliver.  Most of the people we met were expats; used-to-be residents of this chilly island we call home who decided that enough was enough, packed up their goods and chattels and headed waaaay south.

Talking with them has helped me to accept that that moving away, even just a little way east where the family grows, is easily possible and achievable.  But then I consider the tales of the parents who haven't seen their families for weeks, months, years and, even though the view from their windows is truely something we'll probably never experience for more than the odd few weeks, is it enough to justify the life they're now living?  For some of them, when the sun is high, the sea is cool and the beer is cheap, probably. 

But perhaps for one or two others they know that their offspring may never truly thank or forgive them for making the move (because we all know how grateful offspring can be when the mood takes them).

I've been seeding the idea with the boys; what about if we loaded everything we own into a container and moved here to this warm and sunny island?  Noooo was the plaintiff cry.  For my youngest, the prospect of even moving to the next village is a thought too far, so how we're going to persuade him that 100 miles is a good plan, well, that's for another day.

Until them, I have the photos to remind me that even the impossible can become reality, one day.