The Mind Sends Her Apologies...

We have less than 50 days to go and I STILL have not brought this blog to what it should be, "An account of an American living in Norfolk England".
It's more of an, "I'm too lazy to write in my journal, so I'll just type randomness on my blog" kind of a blog actually.


*heavy sigh*


Perhaps we'll be stationed here again sometime in the future and I can start fresh.

But, sticking to form, here's the latest important stuff:

I recently saw a recipe I just HAD to try. It required a package brownie mix. Since we're trying to use up all the things in our cupboards (flour, sugar, cocoa etc), it was a real splurge, but I bought the mix.
Today... I can NOT remember the recipe or where I saw it or even what it was -cake? bars? No idea.
My mind has gone awol.
The kids will have plain old brownies tonight. I can't be bothered.




Son Number One plucked K-girl up out of Arizona and took her back home.
We'll see what transpires in the next few months, but for now, we're just going to celebrate what is and not stress about what might be.


She had her first scan and I can officially announce... (drum roll please)  IT'S A....

...Baby. Too early to determine the gender, sorry.


Sexy Guy and I decided to see a local Hall. It's 30 minutes away, we own a free pass and yet for some reason, we have just never gone. Glad we did!

There's letters from Henry VIII as well, but those pics are blurry

We are mad sightseeing couple these days.
Here's one of our other favourite places:

TESCO!

The trick is to go at night to avoid trolley rage. Free bus-pass Senior days should be seriously avoided.

 Night shopping allows you relaxing "discovery" time. You can find some real treasures like this:

Yummy yummy. Fish 'n' Chips style sandwich filling... mmm, makes your mouth water, doesn't it?


Or Sausage and Tomato style sandwich filling.
Key word here "style".

I actually prefer the sweets section...

We also said goodbye to our season tickets at Carrow Road.
We bid a sad farewell to people that we've sat close to for years and got misty-eyed as we clapped our team off for the last time. Clap, clap, clap, sniff. Clap, clap clap, sniff.

 We stayed until the stadium was nearly empty. 

Goodbye Norwich City.

 Miss Ky went to her last ballet class.

A little part of me was happy to be finished. It was a difficult class to get into because there is a long waiting list. But the drive is 30 minutes each way-on Friday afternoons when she was so knackered from the school week.


We attended our last village Drynkkings May Day Fayre,

complete with Morris Dancers

and cute little Rainbow Girls in the parade. The one with the wrong shirt on would belong to me...

7 years here and we've never watched Morris Dancers in person-only on the telly. As I was soaking it up and taking photos, friends laughed at me. "Don't you think it's a little creepy, men dancing around with bells on their legs and wavy hankies?" 
I should've said, "And you find passing huge barrels of flaming tar around a crowd while burning Guy Fawkes effigies in November normal?"
I love England.

 and cakes

Less than 50 days to go.

How will I survive any more "lasts"?

Nothing Stays Secret Forever

“Lies and secrets, Tessa, they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind.”
― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince

• Sexy Guy and I came to the conclusion that we want to retire in Northern Ireland. We even made some cheeky inquiries around a possible place of future employment and looked into affordability of housing, cost of living etc.

• Someone in my house is stealing from me, despite several family councils, punishments, heartfelt and sincere conversations. They sneak and hide, like a secretive little ferret.

• I'm what you might refer to as an Emotional Empath. I've not yet learned how NOT to absorb others pain. Current events? Tragic news stories can sometimes level me. The news has sucked for a long time now.

• Emotional Empaths sometimes use food to numb negative emotions. I've been training myself to reach for almonds, but I'm not always successful. 

• Supposedly protein helps. Its got to be better than M&Ms.

• I was entrusted with a secret that grew heavier the longer I had to carry it.

• The secret changes everything. There will be no Northern Ireland. We will do our best to get back to the USA when this next tour is up.

• It's been over a month since friends began to be shut out and excuses were made to avoid situations where I might be tempted to spill what I knew. I hate secrets. I find them stressful. Then the flu hit the house and my almond stash ran out....

• Permission has finally been granted to reveal that my oldest son and his wife are pregnant with our first grand baby.

• Although our happiness was guarded because of another "secret" we have been privy to,

• Sexy Guy started looking online at cribs to buy for the young couple.

• I signed up with a private sewing teacher and envisioned creating an owl-themed nursery for the owl-crazy DIL as she and I "pinned" baby things into a secret Pinterest Folder.

• We were blessed to be happy, future grandparents for exactly 24 days before they decided that divorce is a very real option. She is staying at her parent's home, several hundred miles away.

• Now my poor husband wanders around randomly picking up the phone, dialing it and then hanging up. This is uncharted territory for a man with a limited emotional arsenal (which makes him an awesome Air Traffic Controller). He's not sure whether to give them the "Get your head out..." speech or be the supportive listener.

• I just want to sit and cry all day. It hasn't helped that I haven't been allowed to confide in anyone.

• I can't sit and cry all day because there are kids who still need to be taken to football training, ballet class, birthday parties, church activities and school. You know, the kids who have been stealing from me.

• It's a blessing that oldest son feels he can still come to us with anything. It's ironic that the close relationship he and I have stems from the fact that his dad and I split up when I was five months pregnant, so it was just the two of us for a quite a few years.

A sweet friend posted this the other day and it was exactly the reminder I needed.

Symptoms

Late at night, after a not so stress-free day, I tiptoed into the bedroom. The DH was sleeping off his terrible day of "food poisoning" (aka tummy bug, he was in denial), so I tried to undress quietly...

THAT became a little harder to do when I discovered that I had been wearing TWO bras all day. I had to leave the room before I burst out laughing.

Seriously, what in the world would cause me to NOT notice I was wearing TWO torture devices simultaneously? Stress, age or hormonal brain damage from trying to birth my own baseball team in a short time?

I'm going with stress. There could possibly be a few too things on my mind these days, some of which I am not free to talk about...
I know, I hate cryptic posts too. But really, it's not my place to discuss what weighs so heavily on our hearts at the moment...

One the bright side, tomorrow,  my totally recovered DH completes the last chore on his AF to-do list so that he can FINALLY receive our orders and actually start taking care of things like: scheduling the movers, booking our car for it's ocean cruise, reserving our temporary housing (base hotel while you sign out of your rental); signing up for housing at the new base, pre-registering the kids for school as well as the next to-do list that can only be done when one is holding the "hard copies" (official orders).

Whew.

The next 70ish days are going to FLY by! 

Speaking of "food poisoning" (Flu) can you imagine doing a "required-for-your-pcs' chemical warfare exercise when your body is revolting?

Not me. I'm a lie-down and whinge about it sort of gal.
NO WAY would I bend, tuck, dress myself and trap my face in a mask while sick. NO WAY.

Just in case they're thinking of recruiting me.

Just for grins, here's a photo of an Irish Barbie doll... (his words not mine!)

What ridiculous things have you done lately?

Cheating

I'm a cheater.
Cheat, cheat cheat!

Or, maybe a thief. I've robbed you.
For SIX years, I have robbed you.

Lied.
I've lied. I feel like an poser. My blog is a misrepresentation. Have you ever read my byline?
I'm an American living in Norfolk England and I've promised to share glimpses of what it's like living here in England.
I have declared over and over how much I love England, but my blog doesn't reflect it, does it?

I feel so terrible.

So far, I've mentioned "I' 11 times. Me, me, me- so self absorbed.

But now it's all about YOU.

I'm promising you now, for my remaining time in England, this blog will be the Anglophile's dream. For the next two months, it's all about you (well mostly... I still have incredible kids that need airtime).

So where do YOU want me to start?

March? Ok. We just waved goodbye to Easter 2013. It snowed. Again.
So not what Easter is supposed to be like.  

Easter in England is...

SO not from this year. Spring hasn't shown up yet

Color! Usually, the daffodils have bloomed- daffodils are everywhere. The sides of the road are drenched in their yellow loveliness. Even less-traveled country roads are a reflection of the hardest-working Daffodil Fairy in the world. I love it.

The stores shelves are bowing under the weight of chocolate eggs. Cadbury, Galaxy, Lindt eggs; Mario, Peppa Pig, Hello Kitty, One Direction marketed eggs. Some eggs come with the added bonus of Maltesers (like Whoppers but SO much nicer), Mars bars (yes, also SO much nicer), or jelly babies (OMGosh, how will I live without Jelly Babies?!). Every type of chocolate-white, milk, dark, luxury- comes sparkily packaged and ready to ruin any good kid's breakfast on Easter morning. I love England.
Rather than steal someone's image because I was not smart enough to get any of my own IN SEVEN YEARS OF LIVING IN ENGLAND, you can see what I'm talking about HERE


I did finally manage to find these this year...
Worth every penny...

and extra weight gain.

People who don't usually go to church, will, but only after several hours of preparation of the traditional Hot Cross Buns (one a penny, two a penny... yes, I sing that whenever we have them in the house).
My landlord got up at 6 am this year to prepare hers. I bought mine, a pack of twelve at Tesco for 75 pence. 

Again, I've never bothered to take my own photos... Tesco.com owns this one

The typical Sunday roast (roast beef or chicken served with root veg, gravy and Yorkshire puddings) is replaced with gammon (ham) or lamb.

Children don't wake to baskets with fake grass and goodies- that's what the chocolate egg is for-or walk around for two days with dyed fingers.
Most shop-bought eggs available here are brown, so there's really no point in smelling up the kitchen with vinegar. We buy our imported Danish eggs on base. They're white but have an large obnoxious red stamp on them. I wish they understood how they're ruining the look of our colored eggs.


Before Easter, the SG(Sexy Guy) and I took a quick trip to Ireland for St. Patty's Day. Perhaps YOU won't mind if I slip some more Ireland photos in here next time? And just maybe you won't have to wait several months for "next time".  And, there's a big change coming in our lives that I can't talk about right now, but will soon.

Please tell me I'm forgiven for cheating you and that you'll be back?

Monday, Monday

I am not a slanderer of Monday. I don't buy into the hype that Monday is any worse of a day of the week than any other. However, I'm happy to bid a "Good riddance!" to yesterday's Monday. Wowza, what a day.

While trying to keep a stiff upper lip after all that could go wrong, had, Sexy Guy decided that at the end of such an eventful day was a good time to tell me that the information about the housing we were expecting to get for this next assignment, was in fact, incorrect.

Stiff lower lip may have quivered a bit.

He proceeded to explain that although we are now at a higher rank and have some of the better choices of base housing than we did as airmen, we weren't going into the housing we had been told was available for SNCOs. Perfect.

Of course I already had shown my friends where we'd live on google maps, explained to the kids how awesomely close we'd be to the school and still have great views of the ocean. I even gloated a little inside knowing that on the terribly windy days, we wouldn't have to go far to get the kids safely indoors.

For those of you not connected to me by FB, here's a look at what the wind speeds can be in the winter.

 

 

Photo credit: Lajes Field Azores FB page USAF

I know better than to EVER gloat (even just to myself), because life has a way of body slamming me back to humility.

Reality is: We will have the FARTHEST walk to the school. My kids will need to be tethered to me like little human kites. The children who can whinge like nobody will be such a joy to walk to school.


 And images like these:

Photo credit USAF Housing

Photo credit: USAF Housing

Oooh, a garage will allow a place for our football table, crafts and camping gear to be stored neatly and easily accesible without crowding our living space.








I can live with this kitchen. Have you seen some of the kitchens I've endured in England? Yeah, looking forward to this.










  
Have been replaced with these:

Photo credit: USAF Housing

Someone should really educate the photographer that keeping the blinds closed on a sunny day is NOT the best way to sell a small living area.


There will be no garage.


The kitchen is half the size and about as basic as you could find.





You mean to tell me THIS is the dining AND living area?

Photo credit: USAF Housing

So, I raised the white flag and went to bed... before I burst into tears in front of everyone I have been cheerleading for. I know my limits. I can NOT see the bright side of an atomic blast if I'm tired. 

Here in England, we've have small glimpses of sunlight over the last couple of months; our family is moving forward as if we are relocating to the island even though there's been no confirmation to support or deny that, and now with this change of possible housing available, I know that even more painful purging must occur if we are going to survive two years living on top of each other.

But, 

in my youth Sunday school class this week, I spent 45 minutes expounding on focusing on the "grand plan" or the "finish line". I tried to impart to them the importance of not worrying over the little things that clog up our minds and lives and taught them that they needed to keep their eyes focused on a bigger purpose.


I should have KNOWN that I was going to have the opportunity to  practice what I was preaching.

I think next Monday Eve, I'll teach them how sometimes, when you least expect it, everything just falls into place.

Yeah, I like it. I'm sure that lesson would be approved by the church education system...


Disclaimer: I will not always be moaning. I actually look forward to filling up the giant void that's out there on the internet when one searches for information on Terceira. There's so much that no one is posting about!