For me, winter means one of two things; 1) an ever-increasing descent into loathing for the cold weather and decreasing daylight or 2) New York.
Today was a particularly unpleasant day on the south coast, with the wind picking up and the daylight dwindling, I wrote this with a hope that spring and summer hurry back. I am also thinking of New York and the times that Rob and I have spent there over the last [almost] nine years together.
The first time we flew across the pond was in February 2004. It was a very spontaneous holiday, so spontaneous in fact that I had to rush my passport application through, by spending three hours sat in the Peterborough passport office just to get on the plane. Rob booked the trip and at the moment he told me we were going I was struck by two emotions; the first being…
View original post 184 more words