In All Things Be Grateful

Three weeks have passed since we moved back into our home. We had our homecoming party last weekend and it felt amazing to see all our good friends again and we enjoyed hosting in our expansive house. It really is ideal for entertaining and when I think of our tiny spot in Britain, I am reminded of how fortunate we are to have such a fabulous home in which to live. The tunes were cranked and we didn’t have to worry about offending our neighbours, folks mingled and wandered without feeling crowded, the drinks and food flowed, and at one point I felt as though I was dreaming.

It is still all so surreal being in England one day and then back here in Canada living our old life but being two very different people. It is as though body and spirit were in different locations. Not sure if this makes sense to any of you but oddly enough it also got me thinking about if I felt like this only after two years living in a relatively similar country how might it feel for someone that has lived in a third world country for an extended period of time, fighting in Afghanistan, or in captivity. How on earth did I make this correlation, you are probably asking? Well, I think it speaks to the awakening that one experiences when they step outside of the box of their regular lives. Again, our lives in England were comfortable and interesting but we were separated from our families, long-time friends and our home and for me it was that time apart that made me reflective and being reunited I feel grateful. Be grateful. Now there is a good motto.

And speaking of grateful, having a steady income again (vs. the unpredictable pay as a temp) is certainly handy especially since Rick is unemployed. Although the first few days when he was dropping me off at work, I would whine, “No, Daddy, don’t make me go to school. I don’t want to go.” And he would shove me off with a “there, there” and I‘d walk in half happy to be with friends (and taking tap dance lessons again) and half irritated by what I was missing back in London at EY. Gosh, I loved working there. The job was challenging and fun and the folks were great. They worked hard and partied harder and I had no problems fitting in. And now that I have worked in the private sector where results are the order of the day, being stuck in a process driven environment is not what I can truthfully see myself in for a long time to come. But for now, it is meeting the purpose of giving us time at home and time to reassess how we truly do want to move forward particularly since teaching jobs in our area are just not happening for Rick.

And on the note of moving forward Rick has certainly not been idle. Every day he makes a list of things to do for the day such as clean windows (and gosh we have a LOT of them), cut the grass, fix the furnace, unpack boxes we had stored upstairs, and he is literally working from the time I leave for work at 8:00 am until I return again at the end of the day. The place is looking so tidy and a marked improvement on what we first encountered in August when our tenant was on the end of his lease. What a relief, by the way, to get him out of the house. And as a side note, we are still trying to recover several of our missing kitchen items from him. Rick seems more patient with the man that I am. Personally, I would still like to find that ugly dog I had requested in my previous blog entry to come and chew his butt off (or a few fingers for taking things that clearly don’t belong to him). Speaking of grateful, I should be that he didn't trash the place. And as Rick would say, “are you still carrying that woman on your back” which means I am hanging onto something that I should be letting go. So I’ll move on. Okay, I’ll try to move on and be grateful as well that our move back to Canada was quite seamless and void of major challenges.

The Reality of it all

It’s true that sometimes you need to step away from something in order to have a good look at it and being away from Peterborough for two years and returning a week ago has certainly offered me a new perspective on my hometown. My first reaction to the city was just how large everything seemed. Cars are larger, houses are larger (and mostly detached), gardens, streets, and unfortunately, the woman seem larger than in the UK. I am still finding it odd catching the Canadian accent when we are out shopping and I feel as though I am hearing my voice through a recorded message for the first time. Is that really how I sound? No wonder the Brits would mistake me for American. We really do sound a lot alike (except for the southern states or the Midwest that is

It seems funny to be using the Canadian dollar again with the coloured bills all in the same size. British notes were certainly not as colourful but they varied in size depending on the denomination (a fiver was smaller than a twenty) which aided in identification, I thought. Canadian flags posted on buildings, sitting on car antennas, or hanging as curtains are further reminders that I am not in the UK anymore.

We are getting a kick out of (or should I say quickly irritated by) the slow rate at which Peterborough residents drive compared to Dartford. A green light here means let me think about this for a second, gee what colour is that light, well I guess I should go now and I can feel Rick’s skin crawling as we sit only three car lengths behind and still waiting for our turn to go left. Gone are the roundabouts and being able to whiz around town, weaving in and out of the streets, and squeezing into ridiculously narrow parking spaces. Here the drivers like to travel at a snail’s pace and cautiously manoeuvre their massive Buicks into parking lots built for caravans. Even the way shoppers walk in the mall seems slower to us and it is as though we have been transported into a Valium-filled bubble and we can’t decipher if this is the dream and UK is the reality or vice versa.

We have had our share of sticker shock with a visit to the grocery store and dropped 50 bucks for one dinner for the family. You may think well that isn’t a big deal but when we are so used to hitting the market in Dartford on a Saturday and loading up on avocados, bananas, apples, onions, tomatoes, you name it, for a pound a bowl, we croaked when saw the price of produce here. Even since returning we have had our friends ask us if we found it expensive to live in the UK. Generally that is the opinion Canadians have about the country (as did we before moving) but the truth of the matter is that as I mentioned food is certainly less expensive as are toiletry items like shampoo (2 pounds as opposed to 7 dollars), clothing (endless good quality items found in charity shops for under 5 pounds), household items and furniture, and the list goes on. I am sure that as the weeks go by and we continue to reacquaint ourselves with life in Ontario, we will be battling it out with the cost of living and doing our best to budget effectively.

I think the greatest disappointment we have faced since coming home is the state of our house. The overgrown gardens were one thing (it was our responsibility as the owner to maintain this) but when I think of how tidy we kept our place in Dartford, the flowers we planted, and the lovely vegetable garden Rick tended, I just couldn’t imagine renting a place for a year and not so much as pulling a blade of grass. The inside of the house was another story. How frustrating to see the place looking so dirty and dishes chipped, broken, and things missing. And this was from a tenant that kicked up such a stink when he moved in claiming it was filthy, the cupboards were messy, flies were in the light over the stove, and tissue was left in the garbage in the bathroom (really insignificant things to be honest) and he wasn't sure if he wanted to move in after all.

This was the same person that claimed he was “freakishly clean due to the nature of his profession (a chef)” and he “would be the best tenant you have ever had”. So even though we questioned the state of the house when he moved in since family had lived there before hand, we dished out the cash to get the place professionally cleaned in order to keep what we thought was a fussy clean freak chap happy. How ironic that he turns out to be a slob and the state of the kitchen was such that there would be no way I would want to prepare food in it. So this started me thinking about what else he could have lied about to us and suddenly I didn’t trust him. How unsettling to have someone living in your house and mistreating it and all I can think is that I want him out.

Thank goodness we came home when we did. If he had rented the house any longer, heaven knows what further damage he could have done. So when we meet with him on Wednesday the 31st to conduct our inspection with our inventory sheet (and probably a video camera), I can honestly say that I will most certainly let the door hit him in the ass (his sorry Canadian ass, that is) when he leaves. This is when I wished we owned a big ugly dog to chew at his heels and chase him off of the property. Anyone willing to loan us such a beast on Wednesday, feel free to give us a call.

Hello my Friend...

We have just returned from our two week camping trip in France and northern Spain and are now in the thick of packing up the house. We fly home on the 19th of August and there is much to do before we leave on Friday.

We have loaned out our camping equipment and delivered most of the items we sold at our “Going out of Business” party in June. The car (aka Sticky Vicky Vauxhall) is tidy and ready to be packed with the things we want to keep here. She will be covered and stored at our friend’s place down the street and we are happy that we won’t be parting with her as a result of the move. It’s amazing when I think that we only paid 450 pounds which included 200 pounds worth of licensing and all the places that she has taken us since we bought her last year. Why we must have put at least 3,000 km on her this summer alone. Sounds odd, but I feel as though the car has been our friend; and a faithful and reliable friend at that. How many times have we pulled out our map of the UK, and most recently the European one, and took to the road for another adventure?

And this summer’s travels were particularly memorable. Firstly, Rick did a terrific job of driving back “on the other side” and despite a couple of wrong turns, we really didn’t get lost. I enjoyed being the navigator and reading the maps, watching for signs, and being the one to tell Rick “where to go”. We did find that the European map we purchased was not entirely accurate and there were times that we were relying on Rick’s keen sense of direction to get us where we needed to go. My personal favourite was when we were just outside of Caen, France on a ring road round the city and it wasn’t until we passed the IKEA under construction twice that we realized we had made a complete loop. Never mind, we managed to take the correct exit on our second attempt. And this was generally how things went for us. If we messed up, it wasn’t long and we were back on track again. The sign of a seasoned traveler, perhaps?

The biggest challenge we faced with camping was actually being able to get an undisturbed night’s sleep. What is it about camping that encourages folks to sit outside, drink, and talk until the wee hours of the morning with little or no consideration for other fellow campers? In fact, our first night in France had us listening to a group of chaps laughing and talking literally until the sun came up. And then as the daylight emerged, they packed up their cars and left the camp ground! Gee, thanks for that. What could you possibly have to say that requires you to talk all night? Anyhow, we did bring ear plugs but that didn’t do the trick with drowning out their laughter so we just had to rely on extra coffee to keep us vertical the next day.

We found the travelling through Western France pretty boring, to be honest. It was very much like driving in northern Ontario with miles and miles of forest and a monochromatic and flat landscape. It reminded me of the times that my family would be loaded in the car and made the journey between Nipigon and Thunder Bay and how you would just want to shoot yourself if you saw yet another ever green tree or rock cliff! The good news is that once we made it south of Bordeaux and headed towards San Sebastian, the Pyrenees emerged and the scenery suddenly got interesting (actually it was spectacular). As well, the cost of tolls to travel on the major highways along with the higher gas prices also meant that we were pretty pleased to have made it to Spain (the home of all things cheap).

Once in Spain, I did find, however, that unlike French, I struggled a bit with Spanish. A highlight for me, when we spent the day checking out San Sebastian, was when Ricky confidently ordered us dos cafe Americanos con leche. Where did that come from, I thought? As a result, I crowned Rick “The King of Spain”. It is funny how your partner’s strengths (and or weaknesses) can be revealed when you travel. I guess what I am trying to say here is that travelling can put you out of your comfort zone particularly when there are language barriers to overcome. But what I learned on our European vacation is that you can’t be afraid to give it a go even if you think you may not say things just right. It is more important to make the effort and surprise yourself (and your partner). I also found most French people to be very receptive to our efforts and in turn they would take a stab at some English as well. It is also interesting how hand gestures and facial expressions also play a big part in being able to interpret what someone is saying and I learned to pay attention to these as well.

So when we made our loop past Pamplona and then north ward again toward France, I was studying our French guidebook and reacquainting myself with the language. I was fortunate to have studied French in Elementary School all through Secondary School and again in College so I was feeling eager to try out such things as “Il vous reste des place?” and “Combien pour une nuit?” all in order to secure us a camp site but more so to show Rick that I could contribute too. It did render me the title of the “Queen of France” and that’s what I’m talking about!

And even though we are looking forward to returning home, I can’t help but reflect (fondly oddly enough) on what we encountered throughout the course of our two week road trip. We survived a stomach virus while in Paris (poor Rick), heat rash (the sunscreen didn’t agree with me), an infestation of slugs in the tent (okay there were only 8 of them but it felt like an invasion), midnight mariachi bands doing a Spanish rendition of Achy, Breaky Heart (why why why start playing at midnight when everyone is already asleep?), a tumble in a pot hole and a sprained ankle (Rick again), and finally more inconsiderate late night partiers (at a very expensive 30 Euros a night camp site, by the way) and a rude receptionist that shrugged when we asked about their alleged no noise policy the next day (“Hello my friend, give me your money now ef off” was the motto from that stay). Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all about sleepless night, freaks of nature, and dashing to the loo. It was also about climbing up the stairs of the Eiffel Tower and looking out over the city of Paris, driving through the Pyrenees mountains, wine tasting in Chablis, walking the same streets as my son Keaton did in San Sebastian, entering a magnificent Spanish church that was centuries old and having the

breath snatched from my chest.

Just think of the stories we now have to share not only as a result of this recent trip but all the other adventures we have had over the course of our two years here. It is sad at times to think that it is coming to an end but won’t it be fabulous to be with our families and friends again? So much has happened in their lives too and like us they are just as eager to get caught up. And my guess is that our kids will be more self sufficient as a result of our absence and what a great opportunity this has been for them to have grown into adulthood and find their own way. Will they appreciate and value our relationships more, do you think? I am sure all parents ultimately hope for this, don’t they?

Well, I feel as though I should be ending this blog entry with saying something really inspirational or thought provoking but what more is there to say other than I have no regrets, the two years flew by, my family and our house is waiting and they need us and it is time to go home.

Love my Kindle

Totally enjoying my new Kindle and currently reading a book that I originally downloaded as a sample called, "Confessions of a GP". Light, funny, and simply told from a young man's point of view of his every day encounters as a family doctor. Gosh, they sure have to deal with some loo loo's.

Enjoying Every Moment

The countdown is on. There are officially four weeks left of school for Rick and my contract at EY is done on July 22nd. We have booked our flights home for 19th of August and with our “Going out of Business” party and sale over and done with, we are starting to concentrate of what else we need to either sell or donate to charity and what we can take home. Rick is interested in going in a “boot sale” to try our luck selling some of our things. Purely for the experience, he says. And for my Canadian friends a boot sale is not a sale of boots and shoes but a type of garage or yard sale only from the trunk of your car (or at least what you can transport to the sale in the trunk of your car). The Brits are nuts about their boot sales and I have to confess that throughout our travels in this country, we have stopped and done some poking around and managed to pick up a deal or two ourselves. My favourite purchase to date is our wok for 2 pounds which I use to cook stir fries with on a regular basis or my “Dickies” rain jacket brand new tag still attached for 5 pounds. The coat has proved to be very useful for camping.

The weeks have flown by and we had a terrific break with my aunt and uncle at their new caravan, just south of Ludlow, during Rick’s final school break at the beginning of June. The weather was fine, and as I anticipated, we spent a lot of time outdoors going for walks around the lake and playing games of bocci and bowls. We drove to Wales and visited the Elan Valley Reservoir, in the county of Powys near the town of Rhayader. What a spectacular journey that was. We stopped at four of the reservoirs, which incidentally were built to supply the city of Birmingham (which is about 100 miles east) with fresh water. Wales is such a rugged country and there is an abundance of sheep wandering the hills and snoozing or munching on the side of their narrow roads. The air was very fresh and it felt good to be hiking and soaking up the scenery. We still have not been able to figure out their language, however. The closest we have come to translating is their “Araf” signs painted on the roads which means “slow” but the rest is so riddled with consonants that it is next to impossible to even attempt to figure out. We generally just end up sounding like a couple of horking fools, tripping over our tongues and left in a fit of laughter at how ridiculous we sound.

We also managed to catch up with MFC (my fav cousin) Stephen, and his wife Amanda, and Alice the Warrior (their teenage daughter) for lunch in Worcester. It certainly has been great being able to reconnect with my family and say, hey want to meet up for lunch at such and such and catch up where we left off the last time we visited?

The summer party, as I mentioned, that I planned for the recruitment staff at EY was a huge success and apart from the grief that the boating company’s accounts payable clerk gave me over our bill, let’s just call her Barracuda Betty, we drank, ate and were merry as we plugged along the Thames. I spent so much time with my head out the window taking photos of this and that along the way, that I suddenly understood why dogs do this in a car. The wind in my hair and the smell of the murky water turned me into a slobbering wide-eyed puppy. It was London from an angle I had never seen before. Needless to say, I got lots of sloppy hugs when I left for the night and was presented with a fabulous bouquet of flowers from the Senior Management team and all around appreciation for arranging the shin dig. It was nice to be appreciated.

My final bit of excitement lately was cashing in on a gift certificate that Rick got me for Valentine’s Day. I had my hair and makeup done at a studio in London and had a one hour photo shoot session with a professional photographer. It is hard not to feel self conscious about some part of your body and or face once you reach 45, and I really didn’t want to end up looking like “mutton dressed up as lamb” either so when it was all said and done and we were viewing the photos the next day, I was really happy (and surprised) with the outcome. These were photos I could be proud of and not embarrassed to show my kids. I also tried to soak up every aspect of my night at the studio because I thought when will I ever get the chance to do something like this again? So my initial apprehension of receiving this gift turned into another great life experience here in the UK.

P.S. Today is our 9th Wedding Anniversary. What an amazing adventure this has been. Love you the most, Ricky xo

Something to Celebrate

Rick’s final school break is here and we had a rocky start to his holidays. On Thursday night, we attended his Year 11 prom and had a wonderful time with his students and fellow teachers. However, at the event Rick noticed that his stomach was upset and was running off to the toilet that evening. By the time we got home at 11:30pm whatever was not sitting well with him was in a fit to get out of his system and from then until just this morning, he was man down. I ended up calling our doctor’s office as he was doubled over with abdominal pain on Saturday morning and after the doctor-on call spoke to Rick, she figured it was a virus and he would just have to ride it out. The good news is that this morning he had some toast and jam and then lunch and for the most part is looking and feeling much better.

With the week off, we planned to spend some time with my Uncle Keith and Aunt Mally at their new caravan in a holiday park in Herefordshire which is on the Wales’ border. There will be lots of hiking, biking, and perhaps some touring of the area but overall this will be a very relaxing holiday for us. Either way, I do hope to also do some chilling out and reading from my new Kindle (Rick’s gift to me for my birthday). Also not sure how much more we will see of my family as our time here is narrowing quickly.

Our vegetable garden is looking great and although it pales in comparison to the patch at home, it sure is nice to wander out there and pick fresh lettuce and radishes for dinner. We call it our 20 foot diet. It is also something that Rick really enjoys doing and working in the soil is a good way for him to forget about his mountain of school work.

Speaking of which, he put in his resignation on Friday. This feels somewhat unsettling for me as a teaching job with KPR, as we just recently discovered, is not going to be easy for him to secure. I am returning to my former role with the School Board but it is really disconcerting when he has put so much energy and time to return to no employment prospects.

In addition, Rick is a terrific teacher and for him to have been successful in a very challenging job makes me very proud. This was solidified when the students would come over and chat with me at the prom and tell me what they thought of Sir or Mr. T. I could hear it in their voices that they genuinely respected and often “hated” him. One of them even asked me how I could stand being married to him! I told her it wasn’t always easy but I knew that what I learned from Rick has made me a stronger and better person. She actually agreed that through Rick’s tutelage, she was considering career options in the field of Science that she probably never would have thought of before. I did also add that it was his ability to make me laugh every day and that life is never boring with him that keeps me interested. She found that all pretty amusing. I just think it is nice for kids to see another more human side of their teachers too.

I am continuing to enjoy my contract with Ernst and Young and it is so exciting be a part of a team that is dedicated to finding the best and brightest folks to join the company. My job is to coordinate weekly assessment centres and it is very much being an event’s planner. I have to make sure we have the appropriate assessors for the candidates based on their area of specialism in Financial Advisory, the proper rooms for interviews, group presentations, candidate welcoming, and an assessor base for the day. The look and the feel of the day needs to be seamless and smooth and present a professional image to our visiting candidates but also to the assessors who are existing Senior Manager and Partner and Directors of the firm. Sometimes my week can be a mad dash to the finish line to get the catering and refreshment sorts, assessment tools addressed, amongst cancellations and rearrangements but I absolutely love the rush. The best part is when I get to go out into our fabulous front reception with massive wall mounted flat screens flashing EY updates and greet the nervous “would-be’s” and put on a show for the day. I have even had a handful of Canadians come through the doors and I am sure hearing a familiar accent and a meeting a friendly face from home eased their interview jitters.

Despite that we are a hard working bunch of ambitious recruiters, we know how to have fun and love to hit a pub of a Friday night. Now how British is that? So I was pretty happy when I was approached by the Head of Recruiting to organize a boat cruise for them on the River Thames in June to mark the celebration of 4,000 hires. Not 40 or 400 but 4,000!!! I know how crazy these folks are on dry land so what is it going to be like on a cruiser? And for those of you who recall my days of belting out my infamous tune, “Did I Shave my Legs for this?” you will be happy to know that I am also booking karaoke for the party. I can hardly wait to introduce my EY friends into a “Bevie thinks she is a country star” moment. Stay tuned as I am sure I will have lots of photos to share after June 23rd.

Age is a Royal State of Mind

Funny, but I have never really thought of myself as being older even though I am approaching 45 this May and Keaton will be 20 in July. They say that age is a state of mind and perhaps this is why I still find myself stuck in a time warp between the boys hanging out in the park behind the house on Milford drive, having an Easter egg hunt at the farm, and being an empty nester of sorts and touring the English countryside. I struggle sometimes with doing the right thing for everyone and what feels right for me. Having children presents a natural obstacle in life. Not that that is a bad thing. It is what it is. I love my kids; all four of them. I miss being a family too. But being here in the UK has certainly been a very freeing experience. No mounds of snow to deal with each winter, stacking wood, and freezing my bum off in the middle of February. I especially don’t miss dealing with my ex and his crap (aka his lovely girlfriend) and I am sure anyone who has an ex out there will confess that they too wished that they lived at least an ocean away from them. So back to the age thing. Do you remember when you were say 18 or 22 and you never really gave the actually length of your life any thought? I know that it didn’t really hit me until my mother-in-law announced that she was selling her place and moving into a retirement residence. It happens to all of us. If we are lucky. How could I be so ignorant to believe that life would go on and on with no ending? How arrogant of me. And some of you may say, hey, I would trade you for 45 but when I stopped to think of how close that is to 50, I feel a little freaked out, I must say. But I have no regrets, to be honest. I have raised my kids to be pretty descent citizens, I have their love and respect, I have a spouse that is by no means perfect (and who wants perfect anyway) but is the right partner for me. And now I’ve had the chance to experience life from a whole different angle. I wonder what it will feel like when I get back home.

We are enjoying our last fews months here and recently did an overnighter just outside of Bath in a lovely B&B in Bradford on Avon. Totally feel in love with this village and especially enjoying the train ride though the valley into the city of Bath. Very picturesque. Then this weekend we camped (yes my Canadian friends, camped) in north Essex at a a place called Gosfield Park with a terrific lake and a church that rang the bells on Easter morning while I scrubbed our breakfast dishes. We had a couple of days checking out Suffolk county and absolutely loved the thatched roofs, the narrow and winding roads and hey a beer and wine festival along the way. Sweet deal. And during Rick's last term break we did a four night stay in Benidorm, Spain, and that in itself is a story I am very much looking forward to sharing when we get back home.

So this weekend coming up is the Royal Wedding and Rick and I are at odds about this one. I know he thinks it is a waste of time and it is only two people getting married but I just can't help feeling special for being here while this historical event takes places. I wonder what William's mom would say about her boy tying the knot? Would she approve of his bride-to-be, Kate? And speaking of age, would Diana say, my goodness where did my little man go and for heaven's sake I could be a grandmother soon? But she can't and he will never know. And somehow this makes me even more thankful. Because I may be an ocean away but my kids still make my heart sing and even if I am moving onto the closer side of 50, who the hell cares? Is is not about what the good Lord has given you and making the most of it all? Bloody right, it is.

So for all of you fence sitters out there that have always wanted to do something in particular with your life, what on earth are you waiting for? You will never have enough money, it will never be the perfect time, it will never be easy, it will never involve no sacrifices, it will never make everyone happy, but it will be the one thing that when you get to the end of your life you will never regret.

So on 29th of April when Wills and Kate have the Royal kiss and wave to the public, I will most likely be a sappy fool. It is mostly about being a mom and realizing that at 20 my boy is really not that far off either and more about being here to witness it just like I did when his mom married old "what's his name". And that my friends whether you care about the whole scene or not is just another page in "The Adventures of My Canadian Ass".

I can see me reading this part over again while I am relaxing amongst the roses and wisteria in the gardens of my English retirement home.