It's taken me a long time to get my lovely push bike (Marjorie) out and about. The day Andy surprised me with her was one of the happiest days of my life, to know that he loved me so much - as I loved him.
Since he died, even though she is my only form of transport - and the nearest shop being two miles away - I haven't been able to face riding her, a unbearable reminder of what precious thing I have lost.
But this spring I felt able to get her out of the shed and dust her off. Brian-next-door pumped her tyres up for me and we have been having little adventures, finally exploring the gorgeous landscape around us.
We're never far from a view of the Shropshire Hills.
We even found an egg honesty box a few miles away.
It's hard sometimes, to allow myself to enjoy all of this, knowing that Andy never got the chance to see that we made the right choice after all. How he would have loved it.
Shropshire is proving to be more uppy and downy than the Cotswolds, but Marjorie and I are learning to tackle the hills.
It's nice to see my little cottage with its cream chimney stack, nestling in the landscape as we return home.
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