So, here we are at our new home. Or at least here G is, asleep in her pram on the porch of our new home, at Dobcross in Saddleworth. The move itself was a bit of a production, with removal men that didn't turn up and Mrs J coming down with the lurgy, but it was all good in the end, even though most of our stuff is still in boxes.
Today I walked down the road to Uppermill, the nearest bigger village, to go to my first-ever mothers and toddlers group. It was a sing-along-with-baby sort of idea. Inevitably, once everyone was sat down I realised there were 18 babies, 18 mums, G and me. It wasn't too off-putting though, and I managed to get through it without doing anything that would lead to an outbreak of tutting, such as forgetting to warm up G's feed, or dropping her onto the floor. I'll go again next week.
In case you're wondering about the exact location of Dobcross, here's a mile post handily situated more or less outside our house. It reveals that we're almost equidistant between Manchester and Huddersfield:
But I don't fancy rushing back to the city this weekend, even if the shopping is better. There's plenty to explore around here. Not to mention a lot of boxes to unpack.
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