From Bradford to Speyside.

From a small holding above Bradford to a bungalow on the edge of a small Highland town...for life.

Not that we have lived above Bradford for long, only 8 and a half years. But it is the first time that we have left England to live in a foreign country. Does Scotland count as a foreign country? Not to me, as my mother was a daughter of a Grant and her mother married a Matheson who was from Stornaway. Not that I've been to the Islands but from the age of 0, my family was a regular visitor to the Highlands.

When my mum and dad retired, they went to live in Grantown on Spey and although my mum has now died, my dad who is from the Midlands, lives there still. Their home lies vacant since August 2010 when Dad went into sheltered accommodation and that is where me, and my Yorkshire spouse, are off to live.

The farm we live on at the moment was a dream come true, years of working up to having a place where we had fields and walls, sheep and cows, chickens and pigs, trees that provide a refuge for birds and foxes and the roe deer who has her fawn nestled in there. It is hard to leave but we do hope to be able to find some land near to Grantown so we can start again.

Meantime this is the story of this move...industrial, multi-cultural Bradford to small town living.