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Merry January folks.

It’s that time of year again – the time to start a diet, decide to take up new sports, resolve to get back into habits good and avoid the bad. Guess which one I’m ticking off on my resolutions list by starting to blog again?!

I’m writing this on a soggy Sunday in the Cotswolds. Last year was a time of great change, much upheaval and, frankly, chaotic on a scale I don’t wish to repeat. So now we no longer live in God’s own county, but have relocated to Gloucestershire. We moved in on a day of solid, wall to wall rain. It doesn’t feel as if it’s stopped raining since. Yet the Petite Pommes are happier than ever, growing as if I’m feeding them a pure diet of Baby Bio, and are currently much into tuneless renditions of Let It Go. Oh, how I wish they would… it haunts my dreams, that song. An earworm which I will never be free of.

The house is jinxed. We have holes in the roof, a Rayburn which doesn’t work, no heating in our bedroom, damp across the entire front elevation and the most awkwardly shaped kitchen I have ever come across.  I spent much of the latter part of 2015 chasing tradesmen who repeatedly promised to turn up but never did. I’m sure that’s what I’ll be doing for much of 2016!

On the plus side, we are all reunited, live in a beautiful and vibrant village, and can walk to the pub. Which wasn’t on our house wish list, but then we hadn’t listed having our own village brewery – and we’ve got one of those too.  We’ve moved to an area rich in history and fabulous food.  The fantastic farmers market in Stroud is now a regular Saturday outing, and I’m sure that one day we’ll be able to eat at the scrumptious pubs we pass as the children bicker in the back.  Trust me, after they sang their way round the supermarket and then flashed the poor man at the tills by pulling down my top I’m limiting their public exposure for a while. And mine too, frankly.

So roll on 2016. May it bring us – and you – health and happiness.  And, possibly, a new Disney film to sing along to.