There are a lot of memories that live here, feelings of loss and yearning, remembrance of new awakenings, opportunities abounding, cherished love, so many memories. I return and it all comes flooding back, and I feel like a live wire, touch me and all that existed before suddenly reappears in my nerve endings.
Leaving is never easy, be it a place or a person. We're creatures of habit, and breaking habits is hard. Leaving is hard, and we live our lives leaving so many things behind. It's the nature of the beast. Goodbye is a tough and necessary lesson we all have to learn. And whether or not you want to say it or feel it, we all have to say goodbye, at one time or another, in one way or another.
I have so many wonderful memories of my time in England, here are a lovely few:
Anja on her first day of school in Lincoln. She in her uniform, so alien to all us Americans. Driving her to her first day of school and she loved it, much to our relief.
|Anja and friends at The LSST Priory Lincoln.|
Driving on the wrong side of the road. You, Jonathan, bought me a brand new Land Rover, and I learned to shift with my left hand and to negotiate those crazy tiny, windy lanes, being careful not to kill all the pedestrians just inches from the roadside.
|No pedestrians here, just a beautiful winding lane.|
Missing half and half for my coffee and then discovering pouring cream- dairy never had so many options. Yum.
|Coffee at Betty's in York.|
Pubs. Stop us now. Too much fun, so many in easy walking distance, so many fun people to chat with.
|Love all the hand-pulled ales, although it did take me some time.|
The Cathedral, shining brightly through our dining room window, a thousand years old, right on my doorstep.
|What a lovely sight, every night out our window.|
Negotiating all the stores, and memorably searching for boxes on that first Christmas, and still not realizing that boxes were an American indulgence.
|Christmas shopping in London.|
The night Cash was born, sitting with Tash in that birthing room overlooking the Cathedral and sitting in that little pub nearby, waiting for that baby!
Many Saturdays and Sundays going "shopping" in town, only to end up chatting and drinking in Dogma.
|So many funny signs in the pubs.|
Nights hanging out at "The Cloud," our other living room.
|A view I'll never forget.|
All our friends we made at "The Tap and Spile," sipping pints, listening to music, meeting interesting souls, and hearing so many stories.
I wake up early, who knows if it's jet lag or too many cocktails the night before? But anyway, I'm up and searching for a really special Sunday- what will please Jonathan? I think I know. First clue, it's Sunday and what does Sunday mean in England? Well, of course, a Sunday dinner. I'm married to a Yorkshireman, and those guys count their days on how many Sunday dinners they have. How can I deny my sweetest man something he loves so much? This guy would never deny me a thing, so I am forever trying to return the favour. How can I make his day amazing? I think I've found something really astounding and so off we are to Hawksmoor, supposedly one of the best Sunday dinners in London.
|Happy us, happy times.|