Sandwich

Kia ora and welcome to the sandwich years.
Those years when your kids are still pissing the bed, and you find yourself visiting Dementia Support for advice because you think your parents may not be far off pissing the bed either.

Welcome to the sandwich years.
Those years when you've finally managed to get yourself a house and mortgage (at the top of an over heated market, with help from your -fairly poor themselves - parents), and you have a university fund for your kid, but you also have a student loan which is more than your annual salary.

Despite all this, it's what I want. A gigantic garden to prune and plant and harvest, a 1960s house to revive, a short drive to the beach, in MY country, with my people and my own little family.

Despite all this, I'm lonely. Violins? We've moved to a far off Hi-Vis neighbourhood (once known as blue collar) where we know no one and I little time to meet people. So I rekindle friendships with a few high school and university friends,which doesn't necessarily feel natural either. People move on. I miss my London friends. I miss my London.