"Don't fence me in..."

My attention has recently been drawn to a blog (now made into a book) of a young wife and mother of three, whose husband wanted to move the family to the wide open spaces of rural Northumberland. It goes by the title: " Wife in the North" and tells of the enormous upheaval relocating from the bustling bright lights of London to the remoteness of a small Northumbrian backwater.It is a very amusing and insightful blog and mirrors many of my experiences on doing the same thing some four years ago.Whilst my motives for moving North were somewhat different, and having had three of my four children already left home, I can nonetheless relate to the emotions and bewilderment of being so far removed from the comfort derived from familiarity.

It was four years ago this week that my husband, daughter and I uprooted ourselves from the hustle and bustle of "the smoke". Everything that I knew and loved was gone in the three hundred mile drive up the A1/M. Family, friends, streets and local amenities that I had grown up with faded from the rear view mirror as we sped our way to a new life.

Yes, it was hard to adapt to the quietness and remoteness of a more rural setting, and yes I did find myself longing to just pop on one of the frequent trains to Charing Cross to visit a familiar tourist attraction (not that I did this much when I lived there!) But time has taught me to appreciate the amazing place in which I now find myself living.

Northumberland is the Uk's best kept secret! Golden, sandy beaches that stretch for miles, deserted but for the occasional dog and it's owner.Magnificent castles that suddenly surprise you as you come around a corner. Wide, vast skies that go on forever and the darkness of night,black and solid, devoid of the orange glow of street lights and illuminated office blocks.

Yesterday I had to deliver a wedding cake to a country house hotel and then drive on to the Market town of Alnwick to take part in a food fair promoting local produce. As I motored along the country roads I couldn't help but think how lucky I was to have all this on my doorstep. I drove for miles without seeing more than a handful of other cars. The undulating hills and fields, sheep and cows grazing peacefully, farmers harvesting their crops. What a pleasure to live in such a wonderful place.

Water, water everywhere...

This last week has been very strange. Eight days ago we experienced rain on a scale that I've never witnessed before. Torrential, all night long and throughout the day.

I awoke on the Saturday morning to a dull brownish light that seemed very different to a normal morning light, even for a rainy day. The rain was lashing down, just as it had been when I went to bed the night before.

The nearby Market town of Morpeth has the Wansbeck running through it, an old town that has developed around the snaking bends of a usually calm and genteel river. It occassionally overflows a little, but after a catastrophic flood in 1963 the flood defences have done their job successfully.

I had to go down to the town that day to return some library books with my daughter. It wasn't pleasant as the roads were already becoming water logged, running off the fields and down the hills into the town. Having parked the car next to the river I was shocked to see that the Wansbeck was already steadily rising. At 10 o'clock it had reached almost to the top of the bridge arches and was a raging torrent.

I jokingly commented to the Librarian that she would need a boat to get home in later that day. She laughed it off saying that they would be okay! Having sorted out the books Hayley and I walked up to the main street to do some banking and a bit of shopping. There was water everywhere and the roads were beginning to resemble small rivers. We hurried about our business and got back to the car both soaked through to the skin.

Once home we both had to change all our clothes but soon settled down to the normal Saturday routine. After about an hour a dear friend of mine, whose house is right next to the river, rang to ask if she and her family could take refuge at our house that night as the river was rising at the rate of a foot an hour and they were taking as much of their furniture as they could upstairs in preparation for the inevitable flooding.

Suddenly the urgency of the situation began to hit home and I began to prepare the house for the impending visit of six wet, homeless refugees.

What happened over the next few hours was reported on the national news. The flooding of Morpeth, along with a number of other places in Northumberland, headed the main bulletins. Footage of the area and the emergency rescue operation beamed into houses across the nation. It's strange seeing familiar places completely under water: shops, sports centres, parks, streets. Peoples lives broken open by a deluge of water that swept through the town.

There isn't a person in Morpeth that wasn't affected, or knew someone who was. For my friend it was a double whammy of house and business washed away. It will be many months before people can get back into the homes they love. Many had no insurance and are trying to survive in houses that are damp, smelly and without gas and electricity. Those that had insurance are slowly moving into rented accomodation until their houses are returned to normal.

What happened last week has changed peoples lives. Many have lost almost everything but no one was injured and there was no loss of live. Despite the sadness and sense of bereavement, it has brought out a spirit of togetherness and a desire to give whatever help is needed.

It has made me sad to witness such an event but it has also made me begin to appreciate what others all over the world experience to a much greater degree than the dear folks of Northumberland! For us it was an extaordinary event that is only usually witnessed once or twice in a lifetime. Somewhere in this world, right now, people are having to deal with situations that are far worse than we could ever imagine. The cameras will not always be there, and the aid may not reach them in time. If nothing else, what has happened in my "backyard" has helped me to think a bit harder about others hardship and appreciate what I have.