So. Here I am. Across the Atlantic again. To live. How strange.

People have often asked me how I do some of the things I’ve done. “How did you up and move to Belgium all by yourself?” for example. My only answer is: I don’t think too much about it. Just like any other day, I set my alarm, I get out of bed, I pack my bag and I walk out the door. Next thing I know I’m in a plane somewhere, then walking into a new home. It’s a complete one-foot-in-front-of-the-other method of living. In this way, I don’t get hung up on nerves or worries, etc. But it also means that, from time to time, it seems I suddenly wake up in a different part of my life. Boom. Just like that. Does that make sense?

That’s how I find myself in London – amazed that I am actually here to stay. And I feel like more of an awkward foreigner here than I expected. Similar to the way that cultural differences with my husband always take me by surprise – because you always think you’ll see them coming a mile away – so do the differences here. My first grocery shop took me ages yesterday because the location of certain products was not intuitive to me. I couldn’t even find the ground beef; it wasn’t at the deli counter, and it wasn’t in an open meat section at one end of the store. It was in a refrigerated aisle in the middle of the store (on normal looking, but cold, shelves). It simply didn’t occur to me to look there. (After 2 rounds of the store perimeter I finally asked someone if it would be even pre-packaged or not.) I also don’t have my residence visa sorted (don’t get me started on THAT), so I cannot get my cell phone account, bank account or anything yet. I am quite the kept woman at the moment.

September will leave little time for writing as well, since I’m swamped with moving (cargo stuff is nearby but in limbo…), returning to the US to help my sister with the arrival of niece #2 (!!!) and starting all over to (re)sort, (re)crop and (re)organize those 4000 Egypt photos, which hubby accidentally erased (oh, you heard me right), not to mention the honeymoon photos. Of course, it helps when I don’t have celebratory welcome dinners with my friend Adam that turn into a sleepover chat-fest until 3:30am! (But no one who knows Adam and me will be surprised by that unfolding of events…)

But I’m edging my way back to the blog and writing in general and I can’t wait to get properly set up and get this writing ball rolling again!


1 Comment

Filed under breast cancer

One response to “Londontown

  1. Amy

    Glad you made it to London and I look forward to hearing more of your stories!

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