In England · Military Life

We Call This Home

I’m finally starting to process some things about our new life in England:

  • This is home. Despite our lack of furniture and changes of clothing and my cookbooks, this is it. Our stuff is floating in the ocean somewhere. We’re not going “home” to Omaha.
  • This is not a vacation. We’re not going home to Omaha. We get to stay!
  • We actually, truly live in a place where you can be somewhere else interesting in less than an hour. Gardens! Forests! Castles! We can even drive to the beach in an hour and a half! But that means it will be a waste of precious, precious time to make our new home feel like home.
  • I need to stop being afraid of trying things for the first time (unless it’s suspect culinarily). Driving on the left side? As long as I remind myself “left side, left side” every time I pull into a parking lot, I’m good. Hanging out on a military base? It wasn’t so bad after all. Being home with the baby all day every day while his daddy’s deployed? It will be fine. (Right?) Solo international flight with baby? We’ll find out soon, to be sure.
  • The amount of stuff one needs is actually tremendously less than that we Americans (and especially we American parents) tend to have. And the thing we actually need is packed with our stuff: our baby carrier backpack. Stash your picnic, nappies, camera and the baby back there and go. (Go, go, go, while you can!)
  • The amount of stuff one actually needs is tremendously less than what we have coming. Expect more on that in about a month when everything gets here. (I’m not afraid of unpacking a houseful of stuff into a half-a-house-sized house, no way!)
Really, I’m already imagining that I’ll be sad to leave. Though I suppose we should see where I stand on that in, say, February. Let’s just say that this mysterious suntan was quite unexpected. Hopefully the vitamin D stores tide me over until spring?
[Pssst…I’m posting some photos I snap with my iPhone over at Tumblr.]
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