Silent Sunday …

Friday Food Fight … S’now Thanksgiving Without Y’all

 

So, for this week’s Friday Food Fight I just had to fling photographs of our pseudo Thanksgiving feast at you …

I know you’re all … oh-kay, Karen.  You really went all out there didn’t you?

Well, here’s some more …

And, now you’re all … erm, looks really tasty!

And, I’m all … hey dudes, my son made that fruit salad — it was tasty!  And, that’s a meringue nest it’s nestled on with fresh pouring cream over it.  Yummo!

Here, take some of that why don’t you …

Oooh, yeah, I hear you exclaim … Thornton mint chocolates!  Now we’re getting somewhere. 

Whatever … I say … your delicious, scrummy, yummy pumpkin pie can go suck it coz  we got SNOW.   Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

It was fun, but it’s still s’now thanksgiving without y’all!

I am thankful …

The other day I tweeted this …

I am so thankful for my family for all their mad, insane, crazy, passionate, lovable, fierce, protective ways!! I love them all soooo much!

And, I really meant it … and then some. 

We’ve had our fair share of the crazy, but at the end of the day we always find our way back to each other because, well … we’re family and that’s how we roll. 

I am also eternally grateful for the many wonderful and varied friendships the boys and I have made over the years. 

This year’s Thanksgiving the boys and I will be sitting down together like we do every year and eating turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, carrots and brussesls.  But, there will no pumpkin pie.  In its place, we’ll be noshing on a slice of Bramley apple pie with fresh cream. 

I’ll be giving thanks for our wonderful family and friends and the wonderful times we shared before we left …

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And, silently cursing them all for the pumpkin pie they’ll be eating!

Happy Turkey Day ya’ll from our home to yours.  Love and miss you all so much. xxxxx

The Gallery … Black and White

This week’s task for the Gallery is black and white. 

I absolutely adore black and white photography so this was an easy one for me because I immediately thought of  Whitby’s famous photographic artist Frank Sutcliffe.

His black and white images of the Whitby area and its people are stunning and to think he took them with all that cumbersome Victorian photography equipment is very humbling indeed. 

Anyhoo, no matter — I was inspired  to turn these shots I took of my boys near one of the piers in to black and whites.  If only I’d had more time to try and actually recreate one of his more famous photos like Water Rats.  On second thoughts, perhaps not.

Enjoy!

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And, just as a matter of curiosity I’m wondering how many folk … Yorkshire or not … have a Sutcliffe print or two hanging somewhere in their home.

The one where her kids call her out as a wino …

One of my items to get crossed off my to-do list upon arrival here was to register the boys and I with the local doctor’s surgery. 

It was all very easy.

Perhaps a little too easy.

I was already in the system so to speak as an old patient and all I needed to get my boys set up was to bring in their passports for identification purposes.  The next step was an initial appointment with the nurse to get our records established or re-established in my case.

So, the other day the boys and I trooped off to the surgery and met with the rather surly nurse for said appointment.  It all went nice and smoothly … until we got to my little question and answer session.  When the nurse asked how many alcoholic beverages I consumed a week, I honestly replied just a couple of glasses of wine or lager.  However, I heard what could only be described as muffled gasps from the peanut gallery behind me.  Followed by sniggering and a mumblings along the lines of “eh … doesn’t she mean a night?’

The little jesters.  How very dare they?

Needless to say I turned around and glared at them with my best mean mum face.

I’m not sure if the nurse heard or even noticed, but I was more than a little red-faced and maybe a bit too smiley and apologetic for the rest of the appointment.  I mean, I know it was all tongue in cheek, but she didn’t.  And, I wonder if she’ll remember when I have to go in there next.

*sigh*

Only me.

Musical Monday … Your Song

I really love the music scene here in the UK.

The radio.

The charts.

The music shops.

The charts.

Yes.

I forgot how music is a big part of life here and just how seriously it can be taken.

Especially at this time of year.

Because it seems it has begun. 

I’m talking about the bloody battle for the Christmas number one single.

Over the years there’s been some hits like Band Aid’s “Do They Know It’s Christmas,” some misses like Mr.Blobby’s “Mr Blobby” and then some strange like  last year’s Rage Against the Machine.

Personally, I’m hoping for something really festive and Christmassy to help get me in the mood because, dudes, it’s hard without my family and friends.

Anyhoo, here’s my first and favourite prediction for the 2010 Christmas single … it’s a gorgeous cover of Elton John’s “Your Song” by Ellie Goulding that makes me go all squishy when I hear it.   It’s currently on a lovely Christmas advert that a friend told me I had to look up.

What say you?  What do you think will be this year’s Christmas number one single?

Friday Food Fight … It’s Crunchie Time

 

When the going gets tough, the tough eat chocolate.

That is all.

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My first time …

You know all that advice they say about your first time? 

• That you shouldn’t rush it. 
• That you should  get comfortable.
• That you should  just act natural and not worry about getting it wrong that first time.
• And, that it should be preferably with someone who is very caring.

Well, I’m happy to report that this past weekend I had my first time … and it was wonderful! 

Come on now … get your minds out of the gutter … I’m talking my first in real life encounter with a fellow blogger, Jen from The Madhouse.

As Jen doesn’t live far from where we are, I think she decided to quickly stage an intervention after reading my despairing tweets over the past couple of days. 

Yeah, sorry about those y’all! 

Anyway, we agreed to meet up at a local indoor play area where our kids could be kids, running around like crazy, letting off some steam whilst we chatted over lattes and toasted tea cakes.

Jen is as lovely in real life as I knew she would be.  An amazingly, brave woman whom I felt in complete awe of.  Yes, Jen — I don’t care what you say — you ARE a very brave and special lady!   And, her boys are just gorgeous, funny, smart little lads who took to my youngest like they’d been friends forever.

He’s still talking about his new friends …

Thank you, thank you, thank you for a lovely day out (and the lift back home.) It was exactly what I needed right now and I can’t wait to do it again.

Now, who’s next?

The Gallery … Before and After

So, this week’s task for the Gallery was to pick two photographs … taken a few years apart … a before and after if you will. I was racking my brains all day to figure out where we have been consistently over the years so Icould take part and one such place is none other than Disney World.

I know.

All together now … awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Why does the house of mouse make most everybody go all floppy and gooey?

Anyways …

I give you the Summer of 2004 …long before my youngest was even a glimmer in his father’s eyes … tis a photograph of my two oldest boys and I in front of Cinderella’s Castle at Magic Kingdom. They will have been ages 8 and 5.  Can you see they were trying to look all macho and hard?  Their expressions do make me chuckle as I remember I was probably saying something along the lines of, “okay boys, smile and say princess!”

And, moving along to this past summer’s visit to the most magical place on earth … six years later where I am now the proud mother of three boys, here is a photograph of me with my youngest ones, aged 11 and 3 … my oldest took the photograph so he isn’t in this one. It was to celebrate my middle son’s birthday and the end of the summer holidays.  It was also my youngest son’s first visit to Disney and it was lovely to see him light up and giggle when he saw it.  And, no I won’t go in to the fact that he shrieked and ran from all the lovely characters.

I know it was hot and sticky, the parks were packed and we likely spent a fortune, but both photographs evoke such great memories for me. Good times!

Caught between a rock and hard place …

I knew it was going to be hard, but I never expected to write this post so soon.  I really don’t want to be all woe is me, but alas … I am.  I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.

Twenty-three days.

The boys and I have been here for 23 days …  and I’m kinda starting to have niggling doubts about moving here. Doubts that are creeping in to the dark corners of my mind. 

Yes, I know this is normal to feel this way.  I mean, I’ve uprooted my family and moved us away from everyone and everything we’ve ever known for the past 20 years.  It’s a huge upheaval on us all and I expected to feel somewhat homesick,  but still … the doubts remain.

Was it the right thing to do for my family at the right time?

Will it ever be the right time?

Do I really want to be here?

Can you ever really go home?  And, if you could, should you?

A part of my heart will always be here, but does it really belong in Florida?  With MY family?

Believe me, I did not expect to feel this at all.  My heart was both breaking and soaring at the thought of leaving and coming here.  

Maybe it is just the current living arrangements.

Or maybe it’s not.

Don’t get me wrong, I do love it here, however, all the reasons for being here seem to be so insignificant when you don’t have all your family to share it with.

I’m very lucky that my children seem to be fitting in and have slotted quite easily to life in a small town.   They love being in the great outdoors, the views from every angle, walking, the downtown atmosphere and the food. 

But, still I know it’s hard on them which in turn makes it hard on me.  The little man asks me every night before he falls asleep if he can go back to his old house in the morning.  My middle son has been very weepy and was actually crying for his pool the other night.  So ironic after I spent this past summer forcing him to go and play in it.  My oldest son is loving being the hot-shot on the school campus and I can tell he is trying to be brave and strong, but confides in me that he really misses his old life.

Besides multiple complaints about the uniform every morning which I am ignoring because they look so darn cute, school is also going unbelievably well.  The two oldest boys are actually very much ahead in quite a few subjects — world, please take note that the current ranking of the United States in maths and sciences may well take a leap in a few years.

I am told my youngest son can start proper school next month which, truth be told, has sent me in to a bit of a tailspin.  I thought I had a whole other year home with him.  It seems everyone, but me is excited about him starting school — he is my last child, my baby.  He can’t be starting school already.

*sigh*

So, what to do?

Do I wait it out and hope these feelings go away?  Or if I know now, that I just don’t want to be here … without my family … should we return?

The holidays are just around the corner which is going to make things even harder. I miss my family, my friends and our usual Christmas and New Year festivities.

I wish I could fast forward six months and see how we’ve fared.  I’m so caught between a rock and a hard place.