This summer is the end and the beginning. Despite my initial distaste for Middlesbrough in the first year, no matter what I feel or say, I've become a little attached. For all it's faults, there are a hundred other things that make this place worthwhile and I will miss it.
These next few weeks, I will be preparing to leave what has become another home. Everyone knows, but I will say this now, saying goodbye is poo.
I am glad I started writing this blog - initially, it was just a way for me to practice my writing and my photography. Not sure if I've gotten better, but when I look back through the posts, I'm glad I made them anyway. I enjoy remembering why or when I took the pictures, and it is a small comfort for me.
You don't realise how many stories your head can recall until you find yourself clicking back through over fifty blog posts. I've had such a good time here, home is lovely, and I really want to go back - but there is no right or perfect moment to leave.
We had a barbecue the other night, and sat outside until the breeze picked up.
I watched the sunset on the red bricks.
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