There is a part of me that is Tasmanian. I can't deny it, it has my heart. My ancestors settled in northern Tasmania from England and I feel a pull every time I go there. There is a little town, just west of Launceston, called Westbury, which has a village green, where my maternal Grandmother was born. And look what I spied, on the village green. A house, for sale. Truth be known, I had already found this house on the internet (just a tortured little hobby of mine - to find gorgeous real estate for sale in places I simply can't pack up and go to, let alone afford!!)
But what I didn't know is that it's right next door to the church where my great, great grandparents were married on Christmas Eve, 1860.
The post-holiday wearies are setting in. I think I'm going to have to love you and leave you here, while I take my tired bod off to bed and dream about beautiful old houses on the village green in Westbury, where I could lay in bed listening to the bells of St. Andrews next door ...
'night. Seeya tomorrow : -)