nostalgia for England

I'm required to get proof of attendance at Lancs U from 2005-2006 for my background check at my Domestic Violence Shelter job. Initiating email contact with some of the departments has tugged on my heartstrings some, least of which are connected to the Wednesday Market and sitting with a crepe on the Library/Museum steps, Blue-Anchoring myself, pints at lunch, dinner, and before and after damn Syntax lab (never thought I'd need an entire pint to get through a linguistics class, although if I can ever find the limerick that giggled Kara and me near enough to expulsion from the class, I'll post it), taking the free Sainsbury's bus on Wednesdays because we were so poor and cheap, the Sugar House, £1 Yager shots out of a test tube, for whatever reason no one knew, the LUSU shop, charity shops and radiant heat.

The closings of letters and emails are something I miss most from the single year I lived in Lancaster, and unexpectedly so.
A sampling of my favorites:

Kind Regards,
Earnestly,
All the Best,
Best Wishes,
Many Thanks,
xoxox (mostly text messages),
xxxxxxxxxxxx (mostly text messages, and more from Northerners that I remember),
thanksx,
and of course,
Cheers, (that as often was spoken; I would fake a softer "r" when getting on the bus so no one would ask me where I was from. No shame. And anyway, it worked).

I miss the green, and the softest Springtime I'd ever known. I miss the cows on my walk to town. How weird is that?