"What is it, what is it?"
"Did you bring a blue laser light with you?"; I enquired.
"Blue las....no, wh...what in a God's name?".
"Well, if you didn't bring a blue laser light, then we have a ghost situation."
"Yeah, look. There's a blue light on the wall. Look!"; I pointed at the blue light.
"It's a light from the clock."
"Oh. Not a ghost?"
I went back to sleep. But not for long. A radio just happened to switch itself on. By itself.
"Poltergeist activity detected!!!"; I said and sat bolt upright in bed.
"Don't be silly. It was me. I accidentally switched it on."; said The Husband.
"Are you sure it wasn't a ghost?"
"I'm sure. Go to sleep, woman."
"Listen, listen...there's a noise. Surely now it's a ghost!! Right?"
"Wrong. It's not a ghost."
"What is it then?"
"I don't know, but it's not a ghost."
I went back to sleep.
The following morning I got over the disappointment of not seeing the ghosts and suggested a trip to a local supermarket. I love visiting supermarkets everywhere I go. To see what the other folk eat. Granted, it's not going to be much different seeing that the York is in the same country, but nevertheless I wanted to check it out. Just in case.
We entered the hallowed grounds of "Tesco" and straight away I noticed a mini aisle devoted to local products.
"Oh, Lawd Jesus, look at that! We don't get this in London."; I said
Right in front of me, there was bewildering array of Yorkshire ginger biscuits, Yorkshire lemon cheese (Cheese??? Did the good folk of Yorkshire discover how to get cheese from lemons or do they mean lemon curd?), Yorkshire mix sweets, Yorkshire mintoes and other Yorkshire related produce.
I stared in amazement.
"We only get Kosher, Asian and Polish foods in our Tesco."; said The Husband.
"I know. Unfair."
After the supermarket, we decided to check out local housing market. Like any self-respecting Londoner, I too am obsessed with houses, property prices and the eternal question of will I EVER be able to afford to buy my very own house (the answer in case you are wandering is..."No, probably not. Not in London. Not if the hell freezes over. Not ever.").
We glued our faces to the shop window of a local estate agent.
"We should move here!", I announced.
The price of a sprawling Yorkshire farm house was the same as the price of an ex-council studio flat in the middle of gangland Hackney.
"We should. Do they have jobs here?"; enquired The Husband.
"Obviously. I mean somebody has to make all that Yorkshire lemon cheese. It could be us."
"Could be. We just need to learn how to milk a lemon."
Pajamas: Cath Kidston
Trench coat: ASOS
T-shirt: Maison Scotch
Watch: Olivia Burton
Pashmina: Joshua Joseph