Disarming a Dislocation Disorder

Wow,

what is it with (blog) construction workers? This blog went under construction nearly two months ago and there's no further progress than there was then. Can't get good help these days.

Let's not dwell on the "what isn't" and just move on to the "what is" for the sake of your eyes and my carpal tunnel, shall we?

So, the 2nd month anniversario of our residency on Terceira is about to commence and holy smokes, I can't believe how quick the time is passing!

There's always a bit of a 'dislocation disorder' that comes with every move, and unfortunately, this one has been extreme. Boo-hoo-leave-me-alone-I'm-eating-this-pound-sized-bag-of-M&Ms extreme.

I've considered divorce, adopting out my children, running away from home and permanently becoming a non-showering recluse. Anyone who knows me IRL, knows this is a symptom and not characteristic of...well, maybe the desire to run away is normal, but the rest- I kind of like showers and these people I am forever bound to.
Perhaps it was leaving such great friends and fabulous country, perhaps it's the fact that we'll just be recovering from the move when we'll get our next duty station information, I don't know, but it has sucked. The worst part is, I really do love it here, depression? I ain't got time for that.


 It helps to get out and experience the glorious circumstances in which we find ourselves here in the Açores. It's so incredibly beautiful and if you can manage to avoid the base and the people who live closest to it (who are a little jaded and fed up with the "American experience"), your arm might end up quite bruised from pinching yourself so often to make sure it's not just a dream.

We're landing! After a looooong journey, it's so good to see we've finally arrived.

I'm not the only one who has had enough of plane transfers

But then, there's the hot, crowded bus to take us from the plane to the terminal...

Our home until we get a home

The Açores experience high winds in the winter. This should be proof: concrete road signs. This little disaster-seeking bean is anxiously awaiting for the time when we can put him up against a chain link fence and the wind will hold him there.

Add caption

 I'm not thinking, "OMGosh I have cute kids and everyone should see pics of them. I'm showing that our walk to the swimming pool is still in view of the ocean. This is where you say, "oooooh, ahhhh".

One of the great things about being LDS is that we pretty much have a church anywhere we go. When we lived here before (when the goofy teen was only a 1 year old), our branch was Portuguese and American. Now they've divided into two branches- something I find quite sad).

We instantly got stuck in (I wonder if I'll ever drop my British colloquialisms?) and took Little Miss Ky out to our favourite swimming hole in Quatro Ribeiras while her brothers went to a Soccer (futbol!) camp on base.

This is a little trick I've learned over the years: Put a child (or three) in front of your thighs so you don't have to continue editing yourself out of photos. I do need the teens to cover the double chin though...

Incredible, isn't it?

 Horizontal

Vertical

still beautiful 

(anyone ever wonder how my iPhoto library has become so big? 

Now you know why).

That pool you see by the building is a salt-water pool. It comes in handy if you have little guys that you don't want swept out with the tide, or for days like today where the jelly fish are the ones taking advantage of the lava pools.

I'm betting the stairs and handrails of this swimming hole were installed quicker than I've revamped In the Gutter.

Because I have lost your trust with my sporadic posting of late, I will assure you that I have several posts queued up waiting for automatic publishing. My therapy. That, "count your blessings" kind of therapy that seems to always work.

Please check back in when you regain use of your eyes soon for two months worth of sightseeing photos (the equivalent of sitting in our living room and being subjected to our holiday slideshow, only with no popcorn).



Until then,

ADEUS!