You should never go back............

They say that you should never go back.........but sometimes you just have to, to see if you have made the right decision. So, at the beginning of July, at the beginning of the heatwave, I set off from Cheltenham bound for Somerset. To be more precise, I was headed to Draycott, and to be even more precise, I was heading for the home of my friend Grainne, situated just two houses away from my (rented out) cottage.

I had visited her back in May for a quick catch-up whilst farm-sitting near Bristol, and to see the amazing transformation that had occurred in her house: she has made a rather dated, dark and badly laid out bungalow into a stunning light and airy modern home with wide, sweeping views across the levels from Glastonbury Tor in the east to Steepholm in the west. To watch the sun setting over the Mendip Hills and reflecting on the distant sea and the nearer reservoir is truly awesome. I had volunteered, half jokingly at first, to come and 'WWOOF' for her to help transform the garden but, as it turned out, she was not quite ready for that, so the major push of the week was to paint the outside walls of the bungalow with masonry paint.

Unless you have been out of the country recently, you will know that we have had some very high temperatures and lots and lots of hot, sunny days and cloudless blue skies. These are beautiful to look at from inside an air-conditioned room, or to laze about in by a pool clutching a nice cold glass of Pimms, but …... painting a house? Actually, it wasn't too bad because, with a bit of forward planning, I could start painting in the shade and then follow the sun around the house, until we got to the last gable-end and had to spend part of the day in bright sunshine. Bearing in mind my 'Jeni-voice-of-conscience', I carefully anointed myself with Factor 30 sun lotion before venturing out and, bearing in mind my 'Karen-voice-of-conscience', I drank many glasses of water during the day!

I had a day off on the Wednesday and Jeni and I tackled a very overdue job: nine years ago Jeni graduated from Cardiff University and, knowing that she and her then-fiance were going to be in China for at least a year, she looked around for a storage facility in which to put their 'stuff'. Self-storage seemed to be very expensive so my husband and I came up with a brainwave – we would buy a Transit van. We eventually found one locally with one month's tax and one month's MOT, so we drove it to Wales, loaded up all their worldly possessions, drove it back and parked it in our field, where it has remained ever since, slowly rusting into the landscape! Wednesday was THE day that we had allocated to finally sort it out.

It was quite amazing that the van had remained water-tight all these years, but the only damage we found were a few items of clothing nibbled by mice and moths. We both found things that we'd forgotten we had (some of my stuff had taken up residence in there, after Rhys's belongings were removed) but we tried to be as objective as possible, although I have to admit that all soft, cuddly toys were saved. Jeni took away much of her stuff and I packed what I still wanted into the old touring caravan that I had almost forgotten that I owned! We were ably assisted during the long, swelteringly hot day, by Possum, the stable cat who, we worked out, has got to be nearly fifteen, but doesn't look her age. It was very gratifying that she made such a fuss of us as she doesn't go near 'strangers', so must have recognised us.

I did manage to catch up with two other friends of mine, and spent a lovely evening in their company, catching up on village gossip, hearing what their families were up to and drinking a very nice red wine in Mary's beautiful garden. It will probably be the last time I do that as she and her hubby are imminently re-locating to Devon. (I have already volunteered to 'WWOOF' for them!)

It felt very odd to be on my 'home patch' again. I remarked to Jeni that it was like being a ghost who has returned to haunt your old home only to find that things have changed slightly and no-one recognises or even sees you. Like being separated by a dimensional shift, somehow. One thing I did discover, though – I have no wish to return to my former home of thirty years. There are too many memories, some good, some bad, and I need to move on. Now that the Llanidloes cottages are beyond my reach, I wonder where I'll finally settle?

Having spent a week in Grainne's lovely house, enjoying her company and her cooking, I removed myself to the top of the Mendips to my good friends, Karen and Ade, who live at Binegar (it rhymes with vinegar).

I had agreed to help them in their garden, before the heatwave set in, but it proved almost impossible to work, at all! Karen and I made full use of our time, sitting in the shade and chatting, with the occasional foray into a shaded patch of garden to do something. Over the course of the week I did manage to sort a corner of the garden that had become a general dumping ground for old pots and wood that needed to be cut up for their log-burning stove, amongst other things, so felt that I had partially earned my bed and board!

Our shared history goes back a few years to when we worked side-by-side in the purchasing office of a large company, formerly based in Wells, Somerset. When they asked for volunteers to take redundancy, we both leapt at the chance of escape and, on our last day, skipped up the driveway with never a backward glance – that was nearly ten years ago, but we're still close friends even though I may only see her once or twice a year. As I've mentioned before, she does fantastic aromatherapy massages that kept me sane when we worked in our stressful jobs, and also cured me of my debilitating IBS symptoms. I took the opportunity to have one while I was staying there and it was really lovely to be able to completely relax afterwards and then retire to bed, rather than having to get up and drive home.

Again, I had the Wednesday as a day off, and Jeni and I went to Frome.......eventually! We meandered in a slightly drunken fashion across the Mendips in the vague direction of Frome, taking turnings at random. At one point we came to a T-junction which stated 'Holcombe Old Church only' to the left, so off we went. The church stood completely on its own in a peaceful wooded valley that could only be reached by driving through a farm yard. The churchyard was obviously still in use, but the church was locked, so we could only look at it from the outside. Judging by the rounded doorway, it was originally of Norman construction but had been altered over the years as it had arched windows and a carved stone angel above the porch. Suspecting that Holcombe might have been a plague village, I googled for more information later and found that this was so. The original village which had been located around the church had suffered terribly in the plague of the mid-1300s and had been buried and rebuilt about a mile away. It is also thought to be the source of the nursery rhyme 'Ring-a-ring of roses'. The family of Scott of the Antarctic have their family grave there as his father ran the local brewery in Holcombe and, although his remains are not there, Scott is commemorated on their family memorial.

We eventually got to Frome at about lunch time and made our way to an organic restaurant that we had been to some years ago. We then had a mooch about in the rather trendy Catherine Hill area before deciding that it was far too hot for window shopping and making our way back to the car. We were finished with Frome, but Frome was not finished with us! We took a different route out of town (the car was pointing in that direction) as I figured that if we turned left and then left again we would emerge somewhere near where we wanted to be. However, at the second left turn the road was closed, so we had to go on and turn left a few miles further on. Eventually Jeni and I realised, at almost the same moment, that we were now travelling on the original road but in the opposite direction! There were no other turnings off this road so we gaily sailed past our starting point and drove back through Frome and out the other side! We have no idea how we managed to achieve a 180 degree turn without realising it, but I did notice that for several miles virtually every turning was signposted to Frome!

We managed to break free of Frome's gravitational field and made our way back to Mells where we stopped for refreshment at a walled garden that we first visited about four years ago, when the lady had only recently taken it over. It had matured dramatically in that time and looked as if it had been like that for ever, including the formal, rectangular pond that she was just creating the first time we visited. The refreshments were lovely, but the plants were a tad expensive, I thought, but it was such a nice place to sit on a gorgeous summer afternoon (thewalledgardenatmells.co.uk)


In the evening Dave, Jeni and I went to the Somerset Waggon at Chilcompton and I had whitebait for supper, and half a pint of Stowford Press cider. Yum! It was great to spend some quality time with my children again – its one of the downsides of my nomadic lifestyle that I don't see them very often. On the Sunday afternoon we met up again and went to visit some mutual friends where a ridiculous water fight ensued using those Supersoaker water pistols and ending up with four young adults and two children, fully clothed, in a large paddling pool! Even though Ann and I claimed age as a let out we were still frequently fired upon by all parties, but managed to escape the paddling pool plunge! Sometimes its really wonderful to revert to childhood and forget that you're supposed to be 'grown-up'.

I also got to visit my step-daughter, Bess, and her little son, James, in their new home near Weston-super-Mare. She only moved in about six weeks ago so is still finding her feet and unpacking boxes, but it was lovely to see her again. I caught up with her briefly last year but I have not seen James since he was two (he will be six in a couple of week's time) and, of course, he didn't remember me at all. He kept asking if I was staying for a 'sleep-over'! Bless him!

On the Thursday Karen invited me to 'Crafternoon', where she meets up with a couple of friends for an afternoon of chat and craft. I took along my peg loom rug. Karen has also been bitten by the peg loom bug so she took hers, too, but we spent quite a lot of time sorting through some sheep fleeces that they had bought and sharing them out. We also went and picked up some alpaca fleeces that they were given for free. Alpaca fleece is quite different to sheep fleece as it resembles dog hair more closely and doesn't cling to itself in the same way that wool does. I think they are hoping to use some of it for rug-making – it was beautifully soft.

Realising that I would not have enough Jacobs fleece to complete my rug I, cheekily, contacted Geoff and Sally at Dundry and was invited to lunch. In the short time since I was last there, they have sadly lost their older (but not old) Labrador from suspected lung cancer. Sally and I shed a few tears together, but we couldn't be sad for long, because we were continually interrupted by Sampson, their eleven-week old Labrador puppy! They have always had golden labs and, generally, two together, for company, hence the prompt arrival of the youngster to keep Merlin company as he was pining for his friend. It wasn't altogether clear whether he appreciated his new 'friend', but he has only been in residence for two weeks, so they haven't bonded yet! I finally left there late in the afternoon and with the most beautiful Jacobs fleece in the back of my car – I now think I have more wool-related things in my car than anything else!

All too soon the week was over and I was packing up my car yet again. I have now got a two-week break with my Mum in Cheltenham before heading off into Oxfordshire for six weeks.