It’s a brand new year, and I see it being like a white path ahead, just waiting to be marched upon. It is quite exciting, and already I have been active. On Tuesday I  shoogled my way down through the stormy skies into Cyprus, zoomed through the black windy night to the north, and met up with John here in the apartment, and gave thanks to the good Lord that we had the foresight to bring an electric blanket, hot water bottles and snuggly dressing gowns. The cold tiles and thin walls are not the most cosy in chilly January.

Since arriving I feel as though I am on a sleep cure, as all I want to do is knock out the zzzzzz. I bought some new Egyptian magic face cream full of all things natural. Bees wax, honey, pollen, and royal jelly. My face may have wrinkles, but in the future they will be soft. I shall resemble chamois leather rather than old boot leather, so that is good. I may even gleam like the gloss on well-polished wood. I am just so excited.

The motto on the jar is ‘life takes from the taker and gives to the giver’ and was used secretly by the great sages, mystics and magicians. I keep looking in the mirror for that rejuvenating gleam.

I have been so tired these last few weeks, to the point where my nails broke down to the quick, where I was doing ladylike swoons from exhaustion. The build up to Christmas, Natasha’s unexpected burst appendix, John’s surgery, my far too ambitious Christmas menu, and finally the wonderful week when Bonnie came to stay have left me like a rag doll. It was all full on, and I was on high alert, but I loved having my two girls and their husbands close at hand. But how did Mrs Walton do it, with seven children up there on Walton’s Mountain? I am glad I am a granny, and don’t have the full time responsibility.

My own granny got me when I was two, when my own mother died. It must have been quite a shock to the system, and I didn’t know at the time she was very ill and died just five years later.

Saying all that, when it was time for my precious Bonnie to leave I was so tempted to be like Billy Connelly and hide her in the cupboard and keep her for ever and ever!

I find myself humming ‘5 little ducks went swimming one day’ and ‘5 little speckled frogs’ – time to return to a grown up world, but I can’t wait for Tasha and Leo to visit again.

Here in Cyprus the fields are green, rain has fallen in abundance and suddenly the island is like an emerald. We are planning to walk over to Iskele tomorrow for the Friday market and buy some oranges and so on. I shall also look for a bobble hat, and some wellies or something, as my old black boots that I brought out broke in Heathrow, which was why I bought new ones in the first place. I had visions of wearing out all my old clothes and dumping them when I leave. BUT we have a month to go before we move on to part two of the adventure, and I do want to walk along the beach by the beautiful blue Med, and not get my possum socks soaked. Life is just so full of trials. Here are my girls posing, of course!

A new puzzle is on the go, my computer needs sorting out, I have hundreds of photos and files all over the place; it is such a MESS – it makes John’s buzz cut just twist with rage! So, already there doesn’t seem enough hours in the day.

I must rally forth, fight the homesickness, for I miss my Gerry and Tasha and the little baby so much, but with a stiff upper lip (softened by Egyptian cream) and a good dose of happy optimism, I shall soldier on.

Gerry said that I had got out of the UK in the nick of time, as dark thunderclouds were gathering and evil winds and hurricanes were looming.

So, from chilly Cyprus, I wish one and all a Happy New Year!