A chilly trip to the beach

Today we headed up a bit north of where we are living to the coast. We hiked all around a beautiful cove. The rock formations were very pretty and it was a clear day - unusual, for England. Beautiful pictures. Some of the first ones I've taken since being here.

After walking around the cove, we headed to Bridlington North Beach and wandered up and down the promenade. The beach itself wasn't very busy as it was chilly and windy. I sure wish I had packed some jackets for us. But it was so nice to be out in the fresh air.

I hate it, I want to go home!

Confession time...
I have had a really bad attitude lately.
My mantra has truly been "I hate it, I want to go home!"

Everything feels so different here.
The apartment is ridiculously small. There are no closets. It rains almost every day. I miss my family and friends. I can't drive and with my poor sense of direction. I'm afraid to leave the apartment for fear that I'll get lost. So I feel trapped. I can't cook efficiently. Mike is working long hours so I'm lonely. The kids are bored and I have no idea what to do with them.

Worst of all, I can't seem to conquer the grocery store. I actually had a panic attack in Aldi because I couldn't find what I needed. Everything is located in unusual places. Or called something different. Or not available at all. It is all too overwhelming for me. Mike saved me the first time by taking over the shopping for the day, but eventually I will need to figure it out.

The truth is, I hate change. I am not very adaptable. I am not adventurous. I do not look forward to new experiences. I thrive on predictability and routine. And I don't have that right now. Eventually I will adjust...I hope. But for now, I've been pretty unhappy.

Now for the public goal:
I will begin to look at things in a more positive light.
I will start to be more cheerful.
I will leave the apartment and learn my way around.
I will try not to focus on how different everything is.
I will ask for help when I need it.
I will smile more often.
I will change my mantra to something less negative.

Free Range Eggs

“The waiter said, ‘All of our chicken is free-range.’ And I said, ‘He doesn’t look very free there on that plate.’” – Bob Joe Briggs, “We Are the Weird”

I baked Suzy Q's today.
Another adventure in baking.
But it was also mildly entertaining. Because when I opened up the carton of eggs, they were brown and were marked with a stamp identifying them as "free-range" eggs. I'll have to ask someone what makes these better than the eggs I am used to purchasing.

What I found even funnier was the egg carton's description of what makes their eggs better. I wish I had written it down. But "free-range” evokes a positive image of chickens living outdoors with plenty of fresh air, sunshine and open space to roam in. To me it also reminds me of the Bill Engvall bit where he talks about his wife buying "free-range" chicken.


A snippet from the comedy bit:
The other day my wife and I were at the store. She said, "Go get some chicken.” she's on this big chicken kick right now; she said it's healthier. Which, I grew up around chickens - it's not, trust me. They're yard birds, all right? I've seen chickens eat food out of their own poop. Tell me why that's good for me! But I ain't gonna win that argument, right? And so I get this package, grab a pack of chicken, throw it in the cart, and she goes "No, don't get that kind. Get free-range chicken." And I said, "What are you talking about?" And she goes, “You got cooped-up chicken.” And I said, “All chickens are cooped-up chickens. There's no such thing as a free-range chicken.” I said, "I studied history, I did real well in it. And I don't ever remember reading about the herds of chickens that used to roam this land. There was never the great chicken wars. Nobody hunts chickens - they're not wild."


So the whole time I'm making the Suzy Q's I'm picturing chickens running wild across the plains.
Good thing I was alone in the apartment as I was giggling to myself, which could have made me look silly, right?

An adventure in cooking

For the first few days in England, Mike was sweet enough to take us out to eat for each of our meals. This was not only sweet, but necessary as we had not done any grocery shopping. This luxury could not last forever, however, since eating out in England is pretty pricey. So I went shopping. I actually felt like I had a personal shopper with me because Mike arranged for Cheryl Wilkinson to take me to several stores to help me find what I needed. I was pretty proud of myself because I was able to get what I needed for two meals for about 10 pounds!

Fast forward to tonight.
The plan was to make baked chicken and mashed potatoes and rolls.
Well, the rolls turned out great (purchased for the store). The rest was less wonderful.

I got out the chicken and went to preheat the oven. Okay, it's in Celsius. Now what?
Jonathan was great. He remembered the formula for converting Fahrenheit to Celsius. Okay.
There were no words on the oven, only pictures. And I couldn't for the life of me decipher what they meant. So I called Mike. He didn't know either. Fine then, I'll fry up the chicken instead.

Time to make the potatoes. The instant, easy to make potatoes. Except that the directions were in liters, not cups or ounces! I had no idea how to convert that. I was close to calling it quits when I discovered that one of the pans I was using has liter markings inside of it! I was saved!

What an adventure. One I prefer not to repeat.
Who knew trying to cook dinner here would be my downfall?

A jump across the pond

Well, we're here.
In England. Finally.

We boarded the plane in Indianapolis, Indiana on Saturday, July 4. A little ironic that we flew out of the USA on the day our forefathers declared their independence from British rule. Hmmmmm. Something to think about.

Our first flight was short - only about an hour and a half - to Newark, New Jersey. Not out of the country yet. This airport was so huge (and kinda dirty). WE had a three hour layover so we found a place to get a bite to eat. Our last meal in the states. We did get to see some fireworks outside of the airport windows before leaving.

So that was our July 4th.

We boarded the plane around 10pm, already exhausted and ready for the trip to be over. The next flight was much longer - six and a half hours - although this was shorter than expected. Not because we fell into the ocean or had to make an emergency landing somewhere. We just made good time, I guess. No air traffic jams? It was actually kind of fun on the plane at first. We each had our own personal TV screen and headphones to watch whatever we wanted. Gone are the days of the whole plane watching the same movie together. We had "on demand" and choices galore. Sammy had fun watching Hannah Montana: The Movie. Jonathan listened to some Beetles music. We had food and snacks and drinks. Sammy used the airplane restroom - an experience, for sure. Finally Sammy was able to to get some sleep, although I don't think anyone else was successful in taking more than a short catnap.

We arrived in Manchester, England around 11am on Sunday morning. Mike had arranged for a gentleman from the ward to pick us up at the airport. I was surprised he was able to fit everything into the back of his little car. We had a ton of luggage. Everyone except Mike fell right to sleep in the car. Finally.

So we are indeed here.
In England.
Until further notice.

Moving Day

For the past two days, we have had movers in our house packing up our things. Everything. In fact, Sammy discovered on the first day that they packed her bubble gum too! She was not happy about that, I can assure you.

This morning, which also happens to be my birthday, the movers showed up with "reinforcements" and a HUGE moving truck. They took a quick tour through the house and got immediately to work.
I was amazed! They were so efficient...and strong!
One of the men tied a box to his back with heavy straps and then carried another one as he headed down the stairs. Using only a dolly, they were able to load our large pieces of furniture without any trouble. I kept telling them how surprised I was at how quick and easy it seemed to be for them. They just smiled and said, "That's because we know what we're doing."

I must admit that after this moving experience I would recommend anyone who is moving to use a moving service. What a lot of headaches and backaches they saved us by doing the heard work for us!

So, despite watching all of my belongings being loaded on the truck and feeling a little sad about that, it was a day where much was accomplished. And that was a blessing.