So, Tring...

I haven’t written a blog for a while. There are two reasons for this:

1. By the time the two Halflings are fed, bathed and wrangled into bed, I clean up the house (and by that I mean sweep enough toys off the sofa to allow me to sit down) flip open my laptop and do whatever work I am actually paid to do. 
2. We’ve just moved house. And here’s the thing. When you are building up to a house move – once the arse-achingly awful financial and bureaucratic stuff is out of the way – you start to daydream about what each room will look like, maybe even create a Pinterest board or two (actually seven). The reality is: you move in, unpack the essentials and life carries on. Laundry needs to be done, food needs to be cooked and, heck, The Great British Bake Off and Mad Men still need to be watched.

 
In a nutshell – I’ve been busy. All of the above still applies, I’ve just got more okay with it. There are still no pictures on the walls and six boxes (mainly containing books) to be unpacked.
 
It’s been nearly two months since the move and today I’ve been thinking about our old town. I absolutely love where we have moved to, but it’s only when you step away from a place that its idiosyncrasies stand out.  
 
For just over four years our family resided in a quirky little enclave called Tring in Hertfordshire. We loved it and found it maddeningly frustrating in equal measure. So, now that we’ve moved away – lured by a bigger house and family on the doorstep – I wanted to write my own rough guide for people who (gasp) might not have heard of it.
 
NB: To those reading this who still live in Tring, I mean all of the following with Love. Capital L.
 
Tring - Home to the world's best-looking window cleaner. Seriously. Fact. I'm happily married and not really inclined to noticing other men (ahem), but honestly Mother Nature – well done. Just. Goodness me. I'm sure he's the main factor his business is still running as I'm not sure his brain matches up to the package. I don't think I even paid him for the last two times he came round (to wash the windows, I hasten to add). 

This isn't him. But it could be. Do you see?

​Tring - Where, if you want to open a successful business, make sure it's a hairdressers or estate agents. In the last year, four units on the high street have been changed into two hairdressers, another estate agent and since we moved, two empty shops have been knocked together to form a second branch of an existing estate agent. That will make 11 places to cut your hair and nine places to buy a house in less than a mile’s worth of high street. Tring deserves better than this. If there are any restaurateurs or deli owners reading this (what am I saying, OF COURSE there are) get thee to one of the delude of estate agents in Tring and buy up some real estate.

   

​Tring – Where hundreds (possibly thousands?) of long-deceased stuffed animals reside in a branch of the Natural History Museum. It’s a beautiful building filled with specimens that are well over 100 years old and worth a visit. If only to see this guy... I miss his cheery little face.  

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Tring - Where you'll meet the friendliest Marks and Spencer staff in the country. Go there after visiting the museum to remind yourself what mammals with a pulse look like. I once spotted a cashier out jogging and cheerfully waved and said hello – I don’t think she had the foggiest who I was, however.
 
Tring - A place as intensely proud of its history as it is fearsome of its future. Recently, Tring celebrated its 700th birthday with a parade through the town (which E took part in, dressed in traditional medieval attire – no, it wasn’t a Disney princess dress with a mop cap made out of a napkin. Every peasant had their own quota of bright blue satin and gold sparkly embroidery in 1715). There were also impressive floral displays and month-long celebrations. All very jolly. However, when a plan for 400+ new homes to be built on the town’s outskirts was proposed, it was met with indignation, petitions in every cafe and the sharpening of pitchforks.
 
And finally, Tring... Where we welcomed our beautiful babies into the world, met life-long friends, had a pair of fabulous neighbours who knitted stunning cardigans and scary clowns. Where E went to a fantastic nursery and wonderful pre-school, where we lived in two houses and nearly bought two more, where we made the painful, but actually brilliant, decision to move away from.

​We’ll miss you, but we’ll be back. 

PS. She's not smoking in this picture, it's a lollipop.