You remember the charming young couple I told you about last newsletter? The ones that loved our house and put in an offer for it?
Well, it’s all going ahead…
“Ideally, when would you like to move?” they asked.
“Gosh, given the choice, we’d love to stay here in El Hoyo one last summer,” I said. “For us, September would be perfect.”
“Well, that suits us fine,” they said. “That’ll give us time to get our house sold and our affairs sorted in England. Then we’ll move out to Spain in September.”
“We couldn’t be that lucky, could we?” I said to Joe later. “A whole summer in front of us and oodles of time to pack up and sort ourselves out?”
Joe had returned to Spain armed with injections that the Spanish medical care system would administer.
We were that lucky and we’ve had a heavenly summer. We enjoyed the hottest July on record, watched the grapes swell and blush purple outside our kitchen door one last time, and swam at the beach or neighbouring village pool nearly every day.
But the time has slipped through our fingers. When the swallows leave the village, so will we. Joe will return to family in the UK and begin his radiotherapy treatment, and I’ll go on ahead to Australia to stay with family while I find us a home. Then Joe will come out and join me.
As I write, butterflies are cartwheeling in my stomach. I am so excited to be living near Indy, my granddaughter, but heartbroken at leaving El Hoyo, where we have been so happy. It marks the end of an era for us, but also the start of a new one. There are adventures ahead.
We’re confident that Joe’s treatment will be fine and that he’ll be with me in Australia very soon.
Indy has just celebrated her third birthday, and I missed it. But I’ll be there for all her next ones. And when this Spanish summer fades, I’ll be starting an Australian one.
So sling another sausage on the barbie, cobber, I’m on my way!
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