The brief rundown of an undocumented period

There's really been a lot happening in my life, and unfortunately, I haven't seen to it to document it here. I am not sure why. Perhaps laziness and frustration or even just forgetfulness.

I love England and London. I had a lot of preconceived notions about what it would be like to live here and the people I would meet here. I don't really think it's unusual to have these. I am pretty sure every person I've spoken with from North America has their own preconceptions. I don't even think these can be dispelled through a short visit. I learn more about my new home the longer I am here, and unlearn what I thought I knew about both the country of my birth and the country of my choice.

We've done some sightseeing. I see Big Ben and the London Eye on such a routine basis, it does indeed sometimes become routine. But I still get awed, even by these sights that are now common to me if I stop and reflect for a moment. Or if I see them from a different viewpoint. I think people who have lived here all their lives still get that awe.

When I used to live in one of the oldest neighbourhoods in the last American city I lived in, I'd often try to think about what the buildings were like 100 years ago. What the avenues looked like at night before it became lit by street lights. What it felt like to travel from one community to the next well before these smaller settlements became eaten up by the growth of the city and they became just different neighbourhoods (a journey that now takes less than 10 minutes by car). I'd find ruminants of this past in the old wrought iron gates that had spaces for lamps to light the paths and carriageways. Or where there was a stepping stone to mount your horse more easily. Or a boot scraper still embedded to the stoop in the older houses.

If you try to do that in London, it becomes overwhelming. Even when you pick things apart to the place where you can place things in their respective eras, you have to remember that so many times the city was renewed after a great destruction. Yet, you can still visit the Roman wall that dates from almost 2 millennia ago.

So every trip here's an adventure to me. We've done a lot of exploring, but I doubt I will see even a fraction of the UK, even if we live here the rest of our lives.

I'm adjusting to living with an extended family. Christmas was fun, but I felt a bit detached from what was going on. Financial stress in the larger family didn't help things. After the holidays, we decided to readopt a whole foods, no grains, sugars, or starch way of eating, and it's going well. Once we meet our health goals, we may move more towards "Nourishing Traditions" but haven't totally decided.

I miss a lot of my friends and family from the US. It's not even that I saw many of them often. It's just that even calling them is a little difficult due to time zone differences. Dad's also not doing well...even the mention of that makes tears well up. But I am committed to this, and I do not regret my move one bit. I think I was meant to live here, even sticking out so much with my broad accent and, when it comes down to it, yank values. By this I do not mean political conservatism, consumerism, focus on self-interest, or anything else that we like to see as critiques of the US and her citizens in general (believe me, we aren't exclusive owners of those traits, and we didn't invent them). I am talking more along the lines of the hypersensitive sense of justice, expectation of fairness, frankness, and general extroversion. But again, I don't think we own exclusive rights to these things, nor did I realise how powerful the culture we were raised in could be.

I finally got my auto-drip coffee pot. Hot damn, Ethiopian Yirgacheffe whenever I want! I am totally off black tea now. It's funny, I used to drink black or green tea a couple times a week. In fact, I went about 6 months just drinking tea in place of coffee. But somehow, I got so sick of tea (our family drinks it instead of water), that I won't touch it. At least for now anyway. I am a bit addicted to a few Twinings herb teas. Yum.

Smoke-free for about 3 months. I didn't bother writing the date down because I guess I didn't think I'd stick to it.

We're planning a possible trip to another EU country this year. I am really looking forward to it. In the next few weeks, we might take a trip to the coast.

New Land Hoy

I dount I would have believed you if you told me the last time I posted in this blog that I would be living in a foreign country in the autumn. I am impressed that we were able to get everything we needed to get done for the move, and I am so happy that we are finally here.

Adjusting to living with my husband's family has been tough. It's not that they are not welcoming and good people, it's that I am not used to it. Those who know me might describe me as slightly particular when it comes to my environment. I like things a certain way, and I am used to a great deal of solitude. I feel, in a way, that I am a teenager again. On top of that, there are cultural differences that I think are influencing things. I am used to being an assertive American, and like it or not, English people tend not to be assertive. Or when they are being assertive, it's not the direct and open assertiveness North Americans are used to.

But again, this is not being written to be critical of my husband's family, but to describe what I need to learn to deal with. I am not sure how long we will be living with his parents, but even if we were to move tomorrow, these differences are things I will have to learn to live with with the greater culture of England and the UK.

Other than that, when they say that England is damp and cold, they mean it. I have lived in some of the coldest, most inclimate places on Earth, and I have not been so consistantly cold as here. It's not the temperature, really, but this persistant damp. Even when you are hot you are damp. I've walked into highly heated stores, broke out in a sweat, had to return outside, and felt colder than when I walked in.

But really, I am having a good time. I am enjoying this time with my husband, learning about his country and his culture. It's funny that English people believe that their culture is dead, and that they've become diluted by immigration and changing values. If they could only see themselves from the outside looking in, I doubt they'd hold that view for long.

Mom, Dad, and high spirited strife

I called my mother today, something that usually leaves me frustrated and lonely. I do love my parents, but I hate how they often make me feel about myself. Sometimes I am pleasantly surprised. Tonight, instead of feeling like being shoved into a time machine and sent back to my teenage years, I just feel a bit sad for both of them.

My parents don't have a happy marriage. Until tonight, I thought theirs worked because of a friendship they shared after making a relationship last for more than 30 years. A bond that involved surviving poverty, addiction, and more mundane, but still poignant tragedies. Often I felt that I didn't quite understand their attraction, but I was convinced it was there amidst the arguments, silent treatments, and other forms of emotional abuse they heaped upon each other.

Mom told me that she despised Dad. This isn't a shock, really. I always thought they strongly disliked each other about 25% of the time. She went on to relate how serious their insults have become. Dad has become bitter and his insults are cutting too close to home. Mom is resentful of Dad's moodiness, and Dad, although voiceless in this particular conversation, I know is dealing with cancer, the operations that are disfiguring his face, and the stress of living in a home that is no longer truly his.

She went on to talk about how she wish she left him years ago, but she stayed with him for the kids, especially me according to her. I ignored her bid for martyrdom on my behalf, and listened to her claim that Dad married her for her steady income. I wouldn't doubt that he saw that as an attraction, but I doubt that it was all he saw in her. And it totally discounts the years of work he put in, especially after his sobriety.

She spoke for about ten or fifteen minutes. I didn't know what to say to her to make her feel better. I repeated my offer to take Dad here for a while this summer. I don't think her claims are totally out of line. I love my father deeply, but his depression rages deeply. He has a cruel streak, and I've been on the receiving end of it on more than one occasion.

My father's cruelness, however, is usually rooted in situations that cause him fear, anger, frustration, or sadness. I am not excusing it, but it's his coping mechanism. On the other hand, I don't think that my family has always extended the consideration he deserves. While his cancer is not life threatening yet, he has had medical problems that have threatened his life. He's also almost completely deaf.

He doesn't need to be coddled, but I think he is often ignored. Because he can't hear well, people don't bother communicating with him. He's also a man who has earned some peace and quiet. Something he's not getting in his home. My mom has earned it, too. I am just coming to the conclusion that they will never find it while they are still together.

But who am I to make any judgements about the situation there? I left home. I left the area. I don't regret it at all, but I often think that my family thinks I should.

I doubt that my parents will divorce. But before tonight, I thought there was more to their relationship than a shared past and a house they own on paper. I wish for the best for them. I just doubt they will overcome the crap that stands between them.