Monthly Archives: August 2019

But tomorrow, there’s coffee

On Faith, On Life
coffee please!

It’s late here. Almost 11 pm. Or as they would say here, 23:00. (We call it military time. They just call it time. I’m sure there’s a witty quip in there somewhere but did I mention it’s late?!) The offer for the house was declined. They won’t accept pets. We went through a great deal of trouble, and expense, to get 2 dogs here. It would be a shame to give them away now! Haha! Buddy (one of the dogs) keeps looking at me like he somehow knows I have even suggested such a horrendous idea!

Buddy
I’m not going anywhere.

So the hunt continued today. Six houses, none of course next to each other. We drove and drove and drove. Had words with the navigation app. As the bird flies it is only say 12 miles, but nothing in London is direct so we actually drive 20 to get there. We are all exhausted. However, the evening ended with the four of us (we miss you Isaac!) sitting around a table, eating moderately tasteful food (which is rather high praise at this point), and discussing the pros and cons. The conversation led to choosing another house. Once again, we cross our fingers, say a prayer, and take a deep breath.

Oh, and today, David and I braved a Laundromat. I’m sure they won’t quickly forget us as we were the ones who accidentally put a Euro in the machine instead of a Pound. They had to call in the repair guy. He was quite jovial about it and in our defense the two coins (bills don’t start here until 5 Pounds) look remarkably similar and feel quite the same. We apologized profusely. I’m sure they think we are nuts. Now the consensus is the same in at least two countries! 

We are told so often to live in the now, enjoy the journey…I’m trying but I’m not going to lie. I’m so looking forward to familiar coffee in the morning. We stopped at a store to purchase a sort of French press, Starbucks ground coffee, cream, and mugs. There’s a hot water pot in the hotel room because the British are bonkers for tea.

It was a long day. We still don’t have a home. Our lives reduced to suitcases stacked in a hotel room…but tomorrow, there’s coffee! 

No More Purple Mountains

On Faith, On Life

Smith, Nevada
Purple mountains

When we first moved to Nevada almost 7 years ago, I was struck by the stark beauty. “Purple mountains majesty” are really a thing. I remember standing in the cold, 14 degrees to be exact, watching our little kiddos at the time, sled down a sand hill covered in snow. Surrounded by high desert, lungs and toes objecting to the cold, I couldn’t help but think of the Israelites as they left Egypt.

(Some of you may not know this but I’m a bit of a Bible geek. Hang in there. I promise there’s a point.)

The Israelites leave Egypt. This nation within a nation, leave the only home they have known for generations. They end up in the desert, surrounded now by the majesty of creation. No doubt a huge contrast to the opulence and grandeur that they had grown accustomed to in Egypt. Confronted now with the unmistakable magnificence of the ordinary, they began a journey. Their journey was to last 40 years and I have always found that exhaustive and oddly specific. While I cannot speak still to the length, perhaps I am beginning to understand the reason. Maybe it wasn’t enough for them just to see something different. Maybe they needed to be pulled far outside their comfort zone. A reboot sort of.

We left our home in Nevada on July 31. The hospitality and graciousness of friends and family has been overwhelming and so greatly appreciated. But we have been nomads. We’ve sold cars and belongings, whittling our existence down to 12 suitcases, a rental car, two dogs, and a hope of someday having some space to call our own again. Three weeks of being stretched outside our comfort zone. And as I think of the Israelites wandering for 40 years, it makes a bit more sense. If we had jumped straight from Nevada house to London house, there would inevitably be a fair bit of comparing. Well in Nevada we had…It would be human nature to want to go back to the Nevada house. The familiar. Our home. But now, perhaps we are all so tired of traveling, the greater response may simply be gratitude. Hearts that are thankful to have space again, a place to call home, a chance to settle. A reboot sort of.

The house hunt begins tomorrow. An archaic boots on the ground approach. You know how you walk through towns you may be stopping over in and there always seems to be the reality agent on main street with houses taped to the window? I’m hoping there’s a UK equivalent. And yes, we know about the internet. But it’s a house we are picking. A neighborhood, a community. Boots on the ground seems appropriate. (And at this point, a chance to get out of the tiny hotel room.)

At this point, I’m praying our nomadic journey is nearly done. In search of 3 bedroom home, 2 baths (we have teenage daughters), pet friendly, and some furniture would be amazing!

The hunt begins tomorrow.

A Lesson from Knots

On Life,

https://www.flickr.com/people/blondinrikard/

After two weeks of living out of suitcases, lugging around multiple other suitcases, teaching our dogs to travel, and living under the nervous cloud of expectation about whether our travel plans would work out, I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. But it wasn’t just me. We are all feeling it. None of us have our own space. We are grateful to friends and family who have housed us and offered unparalleled hospitality but we are tired. Patience waning, butts sore from hours spent in the car, and we really only have dirty clothes to measure our progress to date.

So, I started laundry. As I pulled the first load out of the washing machine, I found a pair of panties that were tied in a knot. True story. Not an analogous knot, an actual knot. I won’t wander down the rabbit trail of how and why. Instead, I’m going to jump straight to the obvious metaphor.

This random and remarkable discovery gave me pause. Literally, I had to pause the transfer of laundry into the dryer to untie the knot. In that brief act, I learned a valuable lesson. One that has taken me a few days to practice and truth-be-told, I’m still trying to master it.

Here it is…I’ll walk you through it.

When your panties end up in a knot,

try these three easy steps…

  1.   Take a deep breath. A seemingly obvious choice and hopefully most often subconscious but when the unexpected strikes, the conscious choice to breathe deeply provides a moment of space. A chance to set aside the why or how and refocus attention to the immediate issue at hand. 
  2. Patiently untie the knot. It has to be done. You are the one holding the knot, so carefully get the panties out of the twist. Set them free.
  3. Finally, move on. It happened. Yes, it was unforeseenand apparently unavoidable because panty knots can be an actual thing. Oh, and I have found it very helpful to take a moment to practice gratitude. Thank God the knot didn’t happen while wearing them.

As I mentioned, I’m still practicing the steps on more metaphorical panty knots. We still don’t have our visas. The deadline is noon today. It’s our deadline and a rather long story, a boring one. A story about expectations and “best-laid plans” and such. Long story short, I may spend today cancelling travel plans and transferring us further into limbo. But now I have three easy steps to help. And I commit to practicing today.

Any steps I missed? Feel free to share!