relocation and dislocation

It is 22:41pm.  This is the first sleepness night I have had since 19th January 2012.  Okay, so the previous sentence wasn't 100% true.  First of all, I don't think quarter to eleven really counts as a sleepness night.  Secondly, it might be more accurate to say that this is the first night that I haven't collapsed into bed only to be woken up by a hungry infant as, for the first time in a long time, it's the chatter in my head that's keeping me up.

So yes, first things first.  I have a baby, a baby boy who is now six months old.  I don't really know what else to say without getting teary and emotional and flooding this post with clichés but he is wonderful.  Curious and determined and passionate and full of love.  But of course, all babies are love, it's just up to us to love them back.  (See what I meant about the clichés?)

Back to those pesky, keeping-me-up-at-night thoughts.  I don't know how well Operation Aussie Sheila is going.  We were discussing 'Dreams I have for Myself' in my mothers' circle today and what came out of my mouth was a less eloquent version of this:

"I think my dream for myself is to know what my dream is.  I moved to Sydney for CNN because he wanted to be closer to his family.  I don't feel like I was forced to move here, he made it clear even after we had only been dating for a few months that he was planning to go back to Sydney and I had to know that if we were going to continue our relationship.  When I was living in London, I had a fulfilling job and relationships.  Not just with CNN but with my sisters, with friends... and now that I'm in Sydney I don't know what my dreams are anymore.  I don't know what they are in this context and in this environment."

I don't really have anything else to say or to add to this post.  If I were to put on my English teacher hat, my red pen comment would be 'Where is the conclusion?'

one year (and one week)

we have
a room
with a view

Last Monday was the first anniversary of my arrival in Australia.  The photo above was the very first picture I took as a resident.  I remember being struck by how everything was so new and clean and bright.  It's true what they say in all those 'immigrant experiences' of Australia; there is something about the strength of the light which both intensifies and bleaches at the same time.

It seems important to mark this milestone.  A lot has happened this year.  I arrived on a Sunday.  CNN went to work the next day and I walked around our local shopping precinct at such a loss about what I was meant to do.  How do you begin a new life?  I bought a tomato and olive scroll for lunch and chewed it slowly to pass the time, watching the traffic go past.  In those early days, I loved looking at our view and spotting the vivid purple of the jacarandas - it's now that time of year again.

Things happened that weren't very fun.  Unemployment, having practically no money (CNN and I were constantly flirting with the possibility we wouldn't be able to pay our rent and paid a lot of overseas withdrawal fees on our rapidly depleting UK bank accounts - a very middle-class kind of having no money, but it was stressful, nonetheless) and a job that was so poorly managed I was diagnosed with situational anxiety.  And yet, in spite of everything, I fell pregnant and found I could be happy here.

One of the biggest contributing factors, in a roundabout sort of way, was my trip to London and Hong Kong.  There is something so  rejuvenating about being with people who know you and love you and understand you.  The joy I felt when I was overseas came back with me and has been with me since.  A big thank you to each one of my lovely people for playing your  part in that.

Sometimes, it is only by leaving that you learn what you might gain if you choose to return.  I felt an unexpected tug of the heartstrings as my taxi dodged past early morning traffic from the airport back to our flat.  The familiarity of the route and warmth of the sun and the distinctively Australian semis and redbricks soothed me and reminded me that I am home.

happy feet

i used
all my best yoga skillz
to take this picture

One of the best things about having really small feet is being able to buy your socks from the children's department.  Especially when they are all fluorescent on the bottom.  I wasn't wearing the best pair in the set yesterday because others have hearts and stars and other wonderful things instead of polka dots, but you get the idea.

The weather in Sydney has been cool and grey and rainy.  Yesterday, changed into my socks and jammies (see picture above) after coming home from a good driving lesson.  I listened to a fabulous radio show themed around November Rain (hurry, only six days left to listen!) whilst doing the dishes from a scrumptious in both food and company mini-dinner party (two guests counts, right?) we'd had the night before.

Lunch was left-over dhal and lamb curry (both of which you must make and eat unless you are vegetarian) finished off with half a sweet cheeks mango (I had to link that to prove to the non-Aussies out there that it genuinely the name of a mango variety).  There is something so satisfying and 'right' about eating a perfectly ripe mango after spicy food.  So much so that I had to tell CNN about this culinary match when he got home from work even though he doesn't like any stone fruit except peaches.

All in all, it was a very good Thursday off work.

*****

I am sorry I haven't blogged in over two weeks.  It's just that for a while nothing really exciting happened and then lots of interesting things happened but I didn't have the energy to write about it.

I'm back now and I have to say, I've missed you.

(and a wee postscript to let you all know I have very good hearing because whilst I was writing this post, I heard a mobile on vibrate in another flat and thought it was mine - I'm sure it's compensation for having a husband with very poor hearing)