In typical English fashion, the beginning of June has come in with a drizzly annoying rain to accompany it. You know, the kind of rain that means you can’t really hang out washing. The kind that turns my hair from carefully straightened to a home perm circa 1980 in a split second, that kind of drizzly rain.
Not much to report, really. It’s now been a year since I lost my Hunky man, and a year for Daisy as an only dog. Mills is still enjoying his own personal climbing frame, aka our stairs. The house remains on the market, and we’ve done some DIY (with much more to go) in the hopes of actually getting someone in the door that wants to buy it.
There are plans afoot for a move back across the ocean, but with the uncertainty of the house sale they’re going to have to stay afoot for awhile longer. Eurovision was last weekend and was marvelous, wonderful, and totally kitchy as it always is. The UK’s entry was abysmally out of tune and awful, and came in dead last. Better than nil pointe, I suppose.
On the 22nd we took a fantastic day trip to York to meet up with some other Americans. In a way, it made me want to give the UK another try and see if I can be happy here…but at the same time it made me remember what I missed…American accents, shared cultural references and experiences…oodles of advice and reassurance that my experience here has been normal for an expat.
So that’s been my May, really. Onward and upward from here, yeah? Ah to be where I was last year, with no job to rule my schedule, but with the knowledge and courage to travel and experience that I didn’t have last summer. Eh.