First week in Linton has already passed by, busy filled with opening a bank account, signing in for water, electricity, gas, internet access and tv, checking out the grocery stores, trying to get a phone plan ( still working on it, not so easy if you haven’t yet a pin code for your bank card…) buying a car, a beautiful white Mini CooperS Countrymen by the way, and setting up our new home. But we still found time for some walks through our village and the surrounding. And we visited the first from 583 places on our National Trust bucket list, Ickworth in Bury St Edmunds.

Linton: 2 pubs and a Chinese take away, a wine yard, a zoo, a gym, 3 churches, 2 bakeries, a farm shop, 2 gift shops, a post office, 2 hairdressers, a pharmacie, 2 red telephone boxes (yep, still with public phones inside), a co-op, three bus stops, some parks, soccer fields, a tennis court, in short: everything you need for your daily life. In 1086 the Domesday Book recorded the village as Lintone, with 27 households and two mills. Today the population is 4’600 strong. The village and its surrounding is lovely but I’m still struggling with the English weather, the Brits have a completely different attitude to hot and cold (they’re running around in summer dresses while I’m wearing jeans and down jacket) and I think their rain sensor isn’t as sensitive as mine. On the other side they’re pretty friendly and I really love their dry humor. I think I’m gonna like it here… and we aren’t made out of sugar, right?

On Friday Greg arrived in Linton too. He traveled by itself after his summer camp on a little farm from York (close to Charlotte) to Atlanta, flew with a stop over in Frankfurt to London, managed custom and quarantine and arrived safe but tired after 39 hours at his new home, good job little boy and thanks a lot to all the helping hands. Unlike me he really appreciate the English weather and he loves that they have ducks everywhere…

After a homeless month it’s nice to have a place to call one’s own again. It’s funny but it’s the small things that gives you the feeling to be home: a proper working hairdryer with all the bits and bobs you need to make yourself ready, cooking in a kitchen with your stuff and sleeping in your own bed with your cuddly blanket and the perfect matching pillow. Oh and I like unpacking, it’s a bit like Christmas, always surprisingly what we (still) have in our household and amusingly what the packers smuggled in: I think we’re the only British household with a red recycling box from Harris Teeter, still smelling of our last party in Charlotte…