We really are blessed to live in Europe (I mean JOSH is really blessed to live here, I'm English, EUROPE is what I know) - the past few months we have taken every opportunity to get out at the weekend and see as much as we can - day tripping (45 minutes!) to France for wine and macaroons (yum), visiting Colmar and Eguisheim in the Alsace region (most beautiful town and village in France - FACT) travelling around Germany and this last weekend spending time in The Netherlands exploring the Valkenburg Caves Christmas markets and the surrounding area.
People often ask when we "plan" to head "back" to A-Merica... ummmm the weekend after NEVER. Seriously we plan to visit next year, but as far as anything else goes, I'm not sure that is ever going to happen (please Air Force Gods smile down on us and don't send me there!) Why oh why would we give all this *spreading arms and turning in circles* up? Europe is pretty safe (no hurricanes/tsunamis/recent major earthquakes/tropical storms etc etc) it's a great place to raise children, easy to navigate and travel around, the people are amazing I can go on and on.. Just this weekend, we stayed at a small hotel in Maastricht, during dinner a lady from the restaurant asked Sophia if she wanted to leave her boot by the fireplace, so if St. Klaus happened to visit in the night, he would have a place to leave her gifts.... the next morning we came down to breakfast to find a boot full of sweets, biscuits and toys - where else would you get that treatment, other than Europe?!?
I really have nothing against America, it's a great place to take a holiday, but unlike a lot of "local nationals' I didn't marry Josh so that we could move there.. when I met Josh, I was happy with my life in England and giving that all up to move away was gut wrenching, even more so knowing that the opportunity and assignment may not present itself, and we may never live there again - the people I know, all have to give up their hometowns and lives, when they get stationed in Europe for x number of years, but they all know they will eventually head back to the place they love.. HOME.. so forgive me if I harp on about how great this place is..
Monday, November 26, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
If you're tired of starting over.. quit giving up..
I really should take my own advice - I just need to accept the fact that I am a TERRIBLE blogger! Oh well, I can't be awesome at everything...
So this is not me starting over, this is me carrying on. I need my blog, it's soothing for my soul, it's a great outlet for all my thoughts and emotions, and I really couldn't give a rats ass if anyone reads it - I have found myself to be uptight and angry for no reason - I've been having dark grumpy days and instead of taking it out on Sophia and Josh, I vow to come here.. get it out of my system and carry on regardless.
It dawned on me while driving Sophia to school today, that I was too young to really appreciate and get to know my Granddad. That's the thing about Grandparents, a lot of the time they are old while you are young - especially if you weren't born until your own mother was in her late 20's as mine was... My Nan, I feel that I knew, although not well enough. We used to be pen pals - living a few hours apart we didn't see each other but a few times a year, but through her treasured letters I feel that I still have a little part of her living with me. Through her own telling, and stories my mother and aunts have told me, I know what a magnificent woman she was. She was a different generation - a generation that took nothing for granted and worked, seriously worked for everything they had, no matter how little. AND I know how fiercely and incredibly proud she was of each and her children, grandchildren and GREAT grandchildren to boot. My Nan died while I was pregnant with Sophia, my last memory is of her in her hospital bed smiling that big huge knowing smile she had.. and asking me why I was so tired - I told her I was pregnant and her smile grew, a few minutes later we repeated the conversation, as we did a few minutes after that - the smile growing each time. No one likes to remember anyone being sick and dying in hospital, although that's what she was, the smile is what I remember.
My Granddad I know little of - I have memories of him as I was 16 when he passed, he was a quiet man and being only a child, I didn't feel it was my place to bother him - I figured he wanted to be left alone. But now, being that much older, it breaks my heart that I don't know much about him at all. Because he didn't talk about himself (which in turn speaks volumes) or reminisce about the times gone by - a wealth of history and knowledge died along with him. I was an inquisitive child, if only I had have used that curiousness where it counted most. The one piece of knowledge I have about my Granddad is that he would have laid his life on the line for anyone he cared about - he didn't have to tell me that, it's just the type of man he was. I'm sorry I didn't know you better.
So this is not me starting over, this is me carrying on. I need my blog, it's soothing for my soul, it's a great outlet for all my thoughts and emotions, and I really couldn't give a rats ass if anyone reads it - I have found myself to be uptight and angry for no reason - I've been having dark grumpy days and instead of taking it out on Sophia and Josh, I vow to come here.. get it out of my system and carry on regardless.
It dawned on me while driving Sophia to school today, that I was too young to really appreciate and get to know my Granddad. That's the thing about Grandparents, a lot of the time they are old while you are young - especially if you weren't born until your own mother was in her late 20's as mine was... My Nan, I feel that I knew, although not well enough. We used to be pen pals - living a few hours apart we didn't see each other but a few times a year, but through her treasured letters I feel that I still have a little part of her living with me. Through her own telling, and stories my mother and aunts have told me, I know what a magnificent woman she was. She was a different generation - a generation that took nothing for granted and worked, seriously worked for everything they had, no matter how little. AND I know how fiercely and incredibly proud she was of each and her children, grandchildren and GREAT grandchildren to boot. My Nan died while I was pregnant with Sophia, my last memory is of her in her hospital bed smiling that big huge knowing smile she had.. and asking me why I was so tired - I told her I was pregnant and her smile grew, a few minutes later we repeated the conversation, as we did a few minutes after that - the smile growing each time. No one likes to remember anyone being sick and dying in hospital, although that's what she was, the smile is what I remember.
My Granddad I know little of - I have memories of him as I was 16 when he passed, he was a quiet man and being only a child, I didn't feel it was my place to bother him - I figured he wanted to be left alone. But now, being that much older, it breaks my heart that I don't know much about him at all. Because he didn't talk about himself (which in turn speaks volumes) or reminisce about the times gone by - a wealth of history and knowledge died along with him. I was an inquisitive child, if only I had have used that curiousness where it counted most. The one piece of knowledge I have about my Granddad is that he would have laid his life on the line for anyone he cared about - he didn't have to tell me that, it's just the type of man he was. I'm sorry I didn't know you better.
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