When I moved to Court Farm, I was a self confessed city girl. I liked nothing better than the buzz of a busy mall, bright lights and the thrill that retail therapy gave me. I liked to be busy and I liked the thought of a city that never sleeps. I was accustomed to hearing traffic and sirens and even the odd drunk group walk annoyingly past our home on a Saturday night, and though I had dreams of bringing up my babies in a nice rural location where they could bird spot and bug hunt, really and truly I believed that kind of drastic change would never suit me, or even fully entice me. Then I visited what would be our new home. And I fell in love. And as I walked the spiral stairs to view the bedrooms, my heart dreamed up scenarios of the little girl I carried in my arms, walking down them in a prom dress and eventually, a wedding gown. And it hit me that I'd viewed houses before, but never a home. And I tried to reason with myself that even thinking that far ahead was crazy... and when that didn't work, I reminded myself that the size and frequency of spider squatters in a farmhouse are insane. Nothing overshadowed how awesome it would be to actually live there though. And last spring we moved in. It was amazing and cold and exciting and did I mention cold? After our cushty warm terraced house with gas central heating, moving to a thick stone walled farmhouse with lots of quirky cross drafts and oil fuelled heating was quite the shock to my system. I won't lie, there were times I missed that old house, because, let's put it this way: I'm not at my best when I'm cold! Then summer came, and as the weeks passed and the weather broke, I learnt new things about my home all of the time. Like the fact there are three different coloured rose bushes in the front garden, there are apple and damson trees in the orchard, and there is no joy quite like making a homemade apple and blackberry tart from home grown apples and blackberries. The girls didn't know themselves during summer break- they had fields to play in and ladybugs to collect and perfume to concoct from rose petals. I physically pinched myself a few times to check it was all real, and I realised that instead of shoe shopping on a Saturday, I found myself home making and sitting in the amazing garden, and appreciating everything about where I was. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't transformed instantly into some country buff, who subscribed to 'home and garden' and only wore dresses that matched her china. But, it started to become clear that maybe just maybe I wasn't as much of a city girl as I originally thought. Perhaps, I was more suited to the simpler and quieter way of life after all. Hear my heart, homegirl still loves a good blow out at the shops, and if some louboutins were to find their way into my hands, I don't think I'd return them. Ha. (However I definitely wouldn't wear them on my driveway- that bad boy has WRECKED my Choo's and so many more shoes besides!)