Tuesday, June 23, 2009

#24: Darwen.

Darwen is a small industrial town whose history centers around stories of cotton mills and lowly working class folk. The noise of clogs on cobblestones early every morning is now long consigned to the history books and the cotton industry is all but dead. However, there remains everywhere the solid exteriors of the old vast cotton mills, reminders of our heritage, refurbished inside to accommodate new modern businesses. I don't think I need to tell most readers that of Britain gets more than its fair share of rain, day upon day of dull overcast skies, bleeding the colour from this already drab industrial landscape.

My return from the perfectly manicured lawns and dazzling sunshine of America to the overcrowded, sepia drenched little island I call home, instantly made me realize just how unrealistic it would be for me to ask Lisa Jane to ever consider moving here. I had voiced this concern to Lisa on so many occasions in reference to a proposed visit, but things had now progressed to a point where we were projecting our ideas far beyond just visits.
Lisa Jane was now my best friend; I adored this woman in a way that went beyond mere friendship though. I was dreaming of a life with Lisa as my partner, and I couldn't see how to turn this dream into reality, unless I took Darwen out of the equation. I was beginning to have serious misgivings about my judgment; maybe I was cruelly leading Lisa down a cul de sac whilst giving her the impression that we could possibly share a future together.

It was at this point that I became reliant on Lisa Jane's drive and tenacity, as she motivated me on a daily basis to scour the local area for housing that would suit my needs. I was reporting nightly on my findings as she in turn searched the internet for more and more interesting properties for go and explore.

For all its faults, Darwen is surrounded by a verdant, beautiful English countryside, scattered with little atmospheric old public houses and farms. Even the rain cannot diminish the majesty of our dark green, fertile, landscapes of rolling grassy hills dotted with sheep and cattle. I found myself spending hours, strolling from property to property, invigorated by the knowledge that I could possibly one day share these views with Lisa Jane, and then I accidentally stumbled upon DerMar.
Its location was perfect, being across from open farmland and a quaint English pub. Its price was also perfect, with my miserly years as a single man at last paying dividends. One quick viewing was enough, and within months the house was mine. It all sounds so simple now, but if it hadn't been for Lisa's determination and insistence, I definitely would not have found my new, much cherished home.

The time was now right for Lisa to visit England.....

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