On our last night in London, while recounting the various places we were heading the the near future, I was asked if the Isle of Man felt like home. My answer was no, I hadn't been there for 36 years, my memories were faded.
We arrived in clear sunshine, the whole of the island was presented below us. I started to remember.
My uncle Tim was there to great us, he hasn't changed, more memories.
 |
Lamb catching
|
After a quick tour of the island we were settled in at Cammall Farm, nestled in the valley between two rolling hills. Dinner that night was pheasant casserole and chocolate cake. Awesome.
 |
| finally....got it |
Lambing had begun on my Uncle's farm. We fed lambs, herded a new mom with twins into a warm trailer, played with dogs, marvelled at the peacocks and were full of questions. Dinners by the Aga, where we shared the warmth with T&J, dogs, cats and a new born lamb. New memories.
Passed my grandparent's old house every night on the way home, down the narrow high sided lane (did I really walk all the way down for eggs with my grandmother and back up again? Yes, I remember that!) Thatched roofs, huge water wheels, cliffs, harbours. It's all coming back.
 |
| The Chasms |
 |
| Cregneash, thatched roofs and stone walls |
 |
Laxey Wheel
|
We hiked and healed, spread our wings in the countryside and counted our blessings. We are so fortunate.
 |
| Tim and Jean, wonderful family |
Now I say, there is definitely a part of me that calls this island home.
No comments:
Post a Comment