I’ve been very excited, today - I’ve been to the tiny village in Shropshire that my Granddad’s granddad came from. It was lovely - very small, and with about twice as many 20th century houses in as older ones. The church is very odd, because the plain brick makes it look like a 20th century building - and probably catholic at that - but it’s actually 18th century!

I took lots of photos of cottages and things - pretty much any building that looked like it might pre-date WWI, and discovered a row of cottages that were built in 1857, and the village school which was built in 1856 (someone throwing money about in the 1850s, apparently…). And I talked to a couple who live there, who said I should go when the post office is open, and talk to Sue who knows everything about everyone, and Dean, who’s writing a book. And they were terribly friendly and nice, and I came away feeling all warm and welcome and fluffy and nice.

That’s two villages that I’m from - Cockshutt, and Haskayne. I’ve been to both, and whilst both are in country that’s a little too flat to be beautiful, I think I could get used to village life. Plus, compared with Liverpool, houses seem to be very cheap there…