In the last ten months, I’ve moved across the Atlantic…twice. I quit my job of nine years, traded my heels for pink wellies, and said yes to a left-handed sparkly. All of this for the low price of my first case ever of body-covering hives, a bit of a bimble through anxiety and insanity, and a (very brief) detention at Heathrow airport.

And what have I learned?

That I am not good at growing parsnips.  That a coin purse is required.  That it is not the most frustrating thing in the world for your schedule to be at the mercy of the bus system or the weather.  And that it is possible to make it to Sainsbury’s and back while biking through those damn roundabouts. 

Welcome to Asylum Cottage.