patience...

I'm guilty of neglecting this blog in recent weeks. I'm not sure what it is, perhaps it's that January down fall of excitement - Christmas has ended, junk food needs to be avoided, and it's a new, daunting year. Or perhaps it's just that not a whole lot is happening, which is more than true. My weeks are full of pouring drinks and serving food and running around the pub. My evenings consist of eating dinner (half of the time I'm not even sure what we're eating, my memory is just so glazed), finding something to watch on tv with the husband.
Speaking of the husband, he got his driving license last week and so we've been out and about a lot lately. Out with friends, a date night, shopping for things we need for the apartment.
Ah yes, the apartment! In one of my last entries from almost two weeks ago (!) I mentioned that we'd paid a holding fee while they do our referencing. I bet you're wondering if we're living in the apartment now, amongst a slew of boxes and slowly, but surely, getting ourselves settled. Well, you're wrong. They only just completed our referencing today, due to slow-movement on both the real estate company and the referencing people. We still don't know when we are signing the contracts and moving in, but we're getting pretty frustrated. We're supposed to find out today... but we will see. I hope to have some news for you all tomorrow.

In other news- I was able to secure tickets (via ebay) for the sold out Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers concert in London in June. Have I mentioned they're my favorite band of all time ever since I was 8? Well they are. And I get to see them (for my second time) on their first European tour in twenty years. Yay!
Have some photos.

A butcher block chopping board and a granite mortar & pestle for the apartment's beautiful kitchen

A dog desperately trying to get me to feed her a chocolate muffin.

Going the Distance

In writing this blog, in telling the story of Aindrea and Mick, and in talking to people face to face, I've been surprised to hear how many of them (the women, really) want what I have. I'm not surprised that they want a fantastic husband who is also your best friend, but they want the whole process. It happens almost daily, a customer at the pub will notice that I'm obviously not from around here, ask where I'm from.
"America"
"Oh, what are you doing all the way over here."
"I married an Englishman."
"Oh, how did you meet?"
"We met online as teenagers. Over the years we kept in touch finally met, and now here we are."
"Oh, how romantic, what a love story!"
And I'm always a little bit surprised. Even a friend of mine said to me once, "I want what you have. I want that love story and I want a British boy."
We all want a love story, and we all deserve a great one. British men are plenty nice, but they're still just men. What I don't think people realize is just how hard it all is, and how much it entails. I love Mick more that anything in the world, but would I recommend that any couple go through what we did? Absolutely not. It's hard, it hurts, you find the most stupid things to argue about when you're apart, and you just end up not being very nice to each other a lot of the time. Not because you're horrible or you don't love each other, but because you're so frustrated with the situation and you don't know how else to express it. We were only apart for 7 months, but in that time, we had a lot of arguments, a lot of doubts, and I even had to visit the ER twice because I was in so much stress, I had a panic attack that lasted for several days.
Mick and I have both talked about this, and we have agreed that if, for some reason (God forbid) things didn't work out for us, we wouldn't do this again, with another person. Would I do it again, with Mick? Yes, because what we have is special and unbreakable. It takes unquestionable and complete trust, a lot of faith, and the kind of love you only find once in a lifetime.
I think it's really important that people don't limit themselves. If you decide at some point in your life that you're going to have, x,y,z (in my friends case, a British man), you're going to be focused on only one area. And if you do that, you're going to limit yourself and you might miss out on something really fantastic. Perhaps a Swedish guy? An Australian guy? A guy from New York or Vancouver, or, most desirably, a guy from your own town. Don't put yourself in a box, be open to life and all the surprises that life sends your way. I didn't plan to fall in love with an English boy, but it fell in my lap, I discovered how important he was to me and I decided that, come hell or high water, I'd fight to keep him. We can't help who we love, and so that also means that you can't make yourself love someone. You might find someone who checks all the boxes on your list, but at the end of the day, you might really surprise yourself with what you actually want.

Today I met a girl in the pub, and she asked all those typical questions. Once she realized we had been long distance, she immediately launched into all these questions about how she should handle a sitation with a guy that is long distance. I immediately recalled the insecurities, the desperation, the excitement, and the sadness. Let me tell you, I didn't envy this girl one little bit. I basically told her that she just had to be open, honest, and decide what would work for her, and would just have to go with the flow.
And then she spoke the words, "but I don't want to just wait and see, I want to know."
I could have laughed out loud. Not because it's funny what she said, or that it's so unusual or unreasonable to want to know how love will turn out, but because I can remember saying that to my mom, or to Brittany, curled up on her couch and wallowing in the distance. "I just want to know if we're going to make it." Over and over. I was such a broken record. I wished the girl luck and walked away wondering when I'd become Dr. Love, but I was glad to be able to help, because I certainly know how she feels.
Nobody has a crystal ball (as my mom has told me over and over and over my entire life when I worry about something) and we can't know how something is going to turn out.
But isn't not knowing half the fun?

I guess I just wanted to bring some light to the situation. I'm not saying I'm not really happy, because I am. I have snagged an amazing opportunity- I'm living in another country and learning about another culture, I'm a newlywed and the world is my oyster. But we're still a couple, like anyone else. We fight. I'm sometimes really unreasonable, and he's sometimes really insensitive. I get sad and homesick and want to go home somedays, and he gets sad about that. But each day, we wake up in the same bed, happy to see the other there. And that's all we wanted for so very long.

You just have to greet life with open arms, take what it gives you, and turn that into something that makes you want to get up every day and smile at the world. I found it in an English boy, but you mind find it somewhere else. And that is beautiful.

London Getaway

Yesterday afternoon Mick and I returned from our mini trip to London. We went up early on Monday and stayed the night. We walked and walked (as one does when in London) and finished up our Christmas shopping, saw some of our favourites sights again, and enjoyed good food. In the evening we hailed a cab and went past Buckingham Palace and Horse Guard Parade and Trafalgar Square and got dropped off in front of the Garrick Theatre. Chicago did not disappoint. The music was great ad America Fererra was fantastic. Even Mick didn't hate it too much.
After the show we visited the M&Ms store in Leicester Square, then caught another can back to the hotel, where we slept the sleep of people who walked miles in a cold and rainy city. I'm the morning we had breakfast at a pub near the hotel, then we walked past Marble Arch over to Hyde Park for the winter wonderland carnival. We drank mulled wine, are roasted chestnuts, and Mick even won me a little stuffed pig shooting Christmas ornaments. After that it was back to the hotel to grab our things and get a cab to the train station. Neither of us wanted to leave - it was wonderful to have some us time, and I for one came home feeling very full of love.
I just love London in the winter, especially at Christmastime.
Have some pictures :)

Transitions

Winter creeps in so slowly that you don't even notice it. I check my phone weather forecast and each week the first digit in temperatures drops. It's only in the 40s now, due to be 30s next week. I know that's not as cold as a lot of the places you folks live, but I've been told the cold in England is different, and I have to take people's words for it, having spent exactly no time in cold climes before. Apparently it's the damp that does it here. It gets in your bones. Or so I'm told.
So, as winter presses her nose against the window, peering in and preparing herself to settle in heavily, Mick and I prepare for something as well. It's time to dip our toes into apartment hunting. We've looked at one place, but for our reasons we've decided to keep looking elsewhere, even though we really liked it. Nothing serious yet, no paperwork has been filled out, we're just collecting out data, looking online, and planning to go look. And, oh, is it exciting!

Finding Winter

I've never experienced a real winter, having grown up in Southern California and Arizona. I remember one particularly cold "winter" in Arizona, I was walking to class one morning at the college. I walked across the grass and was a bit bemused when it started to crunch beneath my feet. Frost?! That is something we're seeing more of these days, now that I'm in England.

Such amazing patterns to be found in ice and frost. Little trails, mountains, rivers and valleys to explore with the eye. I found myself hoping this morning, when I woke and heard someone coughing and rattling objects in what should have been an empty house. I could tell the cough belonged to my mother in law. At first I assumed illness, but then quickly replaced that idea with a hope of snowy roads and no way for her to get to work. A glance out the window erased this dream, and an explanation of car trouble answered my question.

This approaching winter not only brings the normal things for me - my mother and sister's birthdays, Christmas, warm fires and time spent together, keeping warm on the inside, hot drinks and snuggles. This year, winter holds more for me; an exploration of a new season, new elements and a whole world of winter wonderland to discover. Mick and I hope to make it up to London before Christmas for some shopping in Camden and Greenwich Markets, perhaps catching a musical at a theatre in the West End. This winter will be a walkway into my new life, in this new place, with my new husband. What an adventure! 

A Moment

It happened Saturday night. The pub was relentlessly busy, a coworker had a sick son and couldn't make it in, so three of us were pulling it together and making it work without so much as a breath between customers. I was baptised with fire that night, learning by doing. I stood, mixing a Malibu and diet coke facing the back part of the bar where all the spirits are stored. I glanced up to reach for something and caught my face in the mirrored back-splash. I looked younger than I have felt in a few years; fresh faced and wide eyed, eating up the new. I thought about how much my life has changed in the past year. That tired, drawn "teacher face" is gone. I saw freshness, newness. I thought of my Mick, and of the huge thing I've done for him- us, even for me at the end of the day. I saw myself mixing this drink and suddenly felt the positive impact this huge transition has had on me. Everything shifted, fell in place and aligned in one of those moments where you are suddenly very aware of your little place in the universe. It hit me that the steps are all over- we are done with visas (for two years), I managed to snag the first job I applied for, and we are in motion. Things are happening now, and this is the life that was planned for me, the very same one that I chose.
I remembered my teenage dream- moving to Ireland and opening a pub. I had to chuckle- I made it to England, and am working in a pub. Not exactly on target, but a very pleasant alternative. And the thing that makes it all worthwhile? That boy who stole my heart when I was 17 and took me as his wife three months ago. I felt peace, and turned to mix the next drink, once again absorbed in the sounds of inebriated laughter, clanking bottles, and cheerful banter.
And so after work this afternoon, I ran to the store to buy a sandwich for a late lunch, found myself a new pair of gloves and a scarf, and bought that boy I love so much the pair of slippers he pointed out a while back.
Which may or may not have gorilla faces. I'll never tell ;)

Bringing Thanksgiving to the Redcoats

What a great, full weekend we had here- visiting friends, attending parties, and for me, lots of cooking! Saturday night I began my cooking for our little belated Thanksgiving which we would hold on Sunday. It's hard to do Thanksgiving on Thursday here, because nobody has time off, obviously, since it isn't celebrated here. But that wasn't going to stop me- we pushed it to Sunday.
I did my two casseroles (sweet potato as well as twice baked potato), put them in the fridge to bake the following day, and left the turkey out to defrost.
When we woke up Sunday morning, hubby and I walked to the store for some last minute ingredients and came back to the house so I could get started on the pumpkin pie. I had ordered pie filling from amazon (not available here!) and got my store-bought crust out of the refrigerator to place in the pie dish. It was square instead of round, so I had to knead it and roll it out to make it fit the pie dish. Took care of it, placed it in the dish- looking good! Pop it in the oven to flash bake. Cool. I decided to check on it after a minute or two only to discover that the crust was slipping down the edges and settling in a pathetic puddle at the bottom of the dish. I freaked out, shouted for Mick, and got all teary. I'm not sure that it was really the crust that got me so upset. More likely it was the fact that I didn't get to have Thanksgiving with my family, didn't want to ruin the pie because it's my favourite part of Thanksgiving, and it was just a hectic morning. Back we went to the store to get more pasty ( 4!) and another pie dish, because the one at the house was shaped weird (straight edges instead of angles), which I thought added to the problem. We rushed home and I started over. It started to do the same thing, but only on one little edge of the crust, so I pulled it out of the oven and patched up the spot with extra pastry (which had been frozen and had to be thawed! Ugh!). Back in the oven to finishing flash bake and out in a few minutes. It looked pretty compromised, but it was holding together. In went the pumpkin mixture to finish baking. It all turned out fine, and tasted just like it should!
This was the only mishap of the day, apart from the store-bought apple pie that didn't want to bake. But that was okay, because we just did our dessert in two stages. Most of my Brits had never had pumpkin pie before, and they all seemed to like it. Even Mick, who had been more skeptical than the rest, said he really enjoyed it. And he is one picky man!
So thanks to my wonderful husband, his mom and step-dad, my sister in law and her boyfriend, I was able to have a Thanksgiving. And they helped make it special.
Hope you all had a wonderful weekend with your families and friends!

Centerpiece

My mom's side of the family always had gherkins and olives out on Thanksgiving. It wouldn't have felt legit without them!

My pie didn't look all that great, but it tasted perfect :)

I think I did Mama proud!

Pretty table

I know this is an awkward picture, but I swear- my husband does know what a camera is. He just hates them.

The turkey!

Rainy day

What a nice Saturday. Mick and I slept in until 10:30, sharing cuddles for a good half hour and being silly. We had a late breakfast and did some cleaning around the house before the in-laws went out to lunch. We had warm lunches while the rain fell softly on the wooden deck out back and landed in speckles on grey windows. Hours on the couch, laptops and tvs, video games. I finally decided to take a shower while Mick sat on the bed with Harley and Truffles. Harley was just "fixed" so we have to keep them in separate levels of the hutch for a few days while he heals. They miss each other so much, though, so we let them out for some supervised sibling time. After my shower I walked into the bedroom to find a very sweet sight- Mick on the bed reading his book, while happy bunnies ran around him. There is nothing so sweet in this world as my lovely husband and bunnies playing in soft, weak milky sunshine.