Earlier this year two of my dearest friends moved abroad, but as they still call me at least once a day, it doesn't matter if they are in rainy Glasgow or sunny Gran Canaria.
This time last year I was getting ready to go with my mum to Greece, exactly as we are this year. I'm fatter than last year, but I'm blaming that on the drugs, and lack of mobility, and not my almighty, and still healthy, appetite.
I know I'm worse now than this time last year. Walking even a short distance is now sometimes a struggle, and I've had the occasional day when I couldn't dress myself because my muscles were too rigid to move. I hate the fact that I'm dependent on people, when I've always enjoyed living an independent life. Emotionally after a few wasted days feeling sorry for myself, I'm much more cheery, and am once again able to count my many and varied blessings.
My neice has just moved up to the senior school at Westholme, and my nephew has moved from Westholme to QEGS, and has one master who taught me..and my dad! They are the apples of my eye, and the best thing about moving back to Lancashire has been that I've been able to play a bigger part in their lives.
So, one year on, fatter, less tanned than last year...but happy.