the problem with bringing your lunch to work

is that you eat your PB&J at 10:30 a.m.

new 4 eyes in the house

Yep, just as Mark is starting school, he had to get glasses! (to see the blackboard no doubt... or whatever they have in MBA programs...the white board? The powerpoint?)

He is excited for his new FCUK fashion accessory, but also troubled by the aging eye syndrome. I think he looks just the right combo of smarty pants and loveable nerd. And I've always had a soft spot for a man in good eyewear.

So you tell me -- is this the face of an aging git or fashionable man with newfound sight? I think the funky stripes on the side say it all.  

copper top

After 2.5 hours of various methods of hair cruelty, that I was feeling certain would render me with large clumps falling out in protest, I am semi brown, semi copper. But feeling more normal. My roots are a bit orange, but the stylists claim "it'll calm down" after a week. More likely, it'll surrender. After all, the quiet life it usually leads has been terribly disrupted. I feel I ought to feed it tea and toast and brush it with silky feathers and put it to bed.


Much like this topic of my hair colo(u)r.

 

plus it makes me look old (er) . Possibly even my age. 

pinky tuscadero 

marooned

Since I am a bi-annual cut and color girl, a trip to the hair place is usually a giant treat with bold print and sparkles. I haven't touched (not literally) my hair since Weddings 2006 and girl, it was dull. And broomy on the ends.

So with my hard-earned cash I went to the tony Charlie Miller, recommended from my Cambridge salon... in the heart of New Town.

"Warm," I requested. (thinking, "How I miss Rebecca at Axis so very much")
"Cherry Garcia," she musta heard.

I asked that it NOT be a shade unknown to natural hair and that it NOT look pink in the daylight.

It fails both tests. I don't care what Lexie thinks, red does not suit me.

Mark came to meet me at the salon and took 2 steps back when he saw me.

I washed it twice and it rinsed pink into the tub.

It bled pink on my white towels.

I awoke to pink splotches on my white pillow case.

I am going for the dreaded Color Correction on Thursday.

A cautionary tale to those who want warm hair color. Say brown.

today

Today is September 11th anniversary. Hard not to remember with visceral clarity. Is weird to be in an office at 9:30 a.m. just as I was that day, with chitter chatter around me. Except this year, I am in a different country with different people talking about where they were when it happened. It makes me feel like an outsider. They weren’t in one of the cities under attack.

Today is also Mark’s first day of his MBA program. Off with khakis and a large school bag at 8:30 in the morning and not scheduled to return until 8 tonight.

Today is also the first day that I am wearing all black to work.

They are not related, but somehow all fit together.

3 cheers

For 3 friends 3 new jobs!

A shout out to Tom, Miri & Sinead on each of their new gainful (and strangely simultaneous) employment.

May your new gigs bring you good people, strong coffee, big paychecks and *engaging work. (Not necessarily in that order.)


Oh, and time to read blogs while you are working.

September 7 is my nice Dad Frank's birthday. Happy Flap Day! 

whole lotta whatnot

• Bus seats here are plaid
• Chuck tailors seem to have never gone out of style here. On girls mostly. I want a pair of low rider white ones like I had in my wonder years when I was 23.
• I am finding that I have the exact same bad habits that I did when I last worked at a job
• I feel I am getting rounder. (See bad habits above)
• Or my daily hard and buttoned clothes are just not as comfortable as workout pants and t shirts.
• I am making a lot of small lists on a lot of small pieces paper of really dumb things (See bad habits above)
• After 5 years and 2 separate companies in 2 different countries, I still don’t 100% understand mortgages. And I still don’t care that much that I don’t understand them.
• It is hard to find fashionable peite clothing in this country.
• After a 2-year absesnce in getting my eyes tested, I did the deed. And learned that I each of my eyes have a giant stigmatism jump. Hence perhaps why I can’t really see and have been getting headaches like clockwork for forever. New (£££) lenses to come this week. I look forward to vision. And giving up my Excedrin pill popping.
• I am starting a Neuro Lingustic Programming course at the Uni of Edinburgh at the end of the month to learn how to program the mind. In coaching. And in life. (you are getting sleeeeeeeepy)
• I want to hire a coach for myself to jump start next steps in the life. And stop any sliding backwards I may have started. It is dull to go back. And slippery.
• Mark starts school next Monday. He is looking forward to diving in headfirst. I look forward to the mystery of what this will be like for us in our lives. And discovering who will do the laundry.
• We are selling our sturdy and giant (seemingly) car. And want a micro car for city driving. And one that I can feel cute in. zoom zoom
• Went out for a happy hour with my nice and youthful work cohorts on Friday. I think it was 1995 with Mary Rabatin that I last did that. I left at 7:45. They stayed out until 3:30. I think it was 1995 with Mary Rabatin that I last did that too.

the great unwashed

We had our first dinner party here last night. Mark Lister, client/colleague/neighbor and his amazing partner & bag maker, Kat came to our wee (I am scottish now and can say that to fit in) flat for Saturday night supper.

Well it wasn't as much of a dinner party as dinner and some rocking 80s trivial pursuit, which I was all too excited to play, until I realized it was the British version. I barely knew about my own rock idols and political scandals in the US when I was 15, less having any awareness of overseas issues. I was a miserable failure. But we laughed and they asked my all the 'obvious' ones that I 'should' get. Um. Not so much.

But we christened the occasion with the Jamie Oliver Italy cookbook -- making 100% new things that enabled us to buy ingredients from all our local purveyors -- Edinburgh farmers market for 3 variety of cherry tomato, Crombies, the butcher for pork loin and Italian sausages, Valvona and Corolla for expensive buffalo mozzarella and Parmesan and linguini and amazing and annoyingly dear Amalfi lemons, ciabiatta, and the Sicilian bakery for creamy cannoli type smattering of desserts. Wine was drunk. As was decaf and port. We dabbled in Scattegories, my all time fav game. I am not even fun I like it so much. And ended the night with some hilariously bad charades.

It was a smashing fun night. Especially not to go anywhere except down the ball to bed when it is over. Which brings me to my title. The washing up. We have managed to jointly ignore the entire pile of glasses, cookware, splatterings, colanders, wrappers, plates, bottles and mess the entire day and just turned out attention instead to the TV. All day. Great unwashed humans and kitchen.

It has been a lovely 24 hours.

what to wear

Black is the new black.

I am happy to report the number of women at work and to- ing and fro-ing in the streets of Edinburgh in a head-to-toe outfit of choice in all black.

It seems to be the weekday uniform of many – in combos of trousers, skirts, dresses, cardies, blouses, jackets. Some ultra dressy, some quite casual and washable, but all of them in black. I must admit, it is a bit of a relief after all the pressure to wear color and be lively. I have not gone all black yet, but I know that lazy day nears. It is too easy to not do on that day when the alarm is extra alarming and the closet seems a complicated place to manoeuvre.

I am unearthing my few remaining corporate duds and decided that I really like that 15 minutes when I am freshly showered, coiffed and dressed and out of the house in the brisk of the morning. It feels good to be going somewhere and having a destination. Being part of the world. Mind you, the feeling starts to fade as soon as I am on the bus… but I am enjoying it, even in its briefest of appearances. Mostly, I think I like this chance to wear grown up clothes again -- to be buttoned and pressed and feel sharp. It is a nice change from the soft and forgiving clothes of coaching and house minding. Where one can easily get away with the same bad t shirt and stained workout pants for days.

Fall seems to be approaching here… kids back at school already for a week. I am now dreaming of boots and jackets and rosy cheeks and darkened hair and lipstick shades. And of tweed and texture. And plaid. I mean tartan.

This may be the best thing about working. Just use it as an excuse for a costume change.

P.S. I saw a poncho yesterday. It didn’t look that great.

2 scottish-isms

1. where do you stay= where do you live
2. what did you get up to= what did you do

sunday night blues

9:31 on Sunday night.

Staring down the full frontal assault of a week ahead.

I am so not with the hang of it all. And so very behind in personal communication that I don't know where to begin.

I was gasping for the weekend to arrive. Yesterday we drove to North Berwick... charming town on the north near the sea and ate lunch at the Ship Inn in order to eat chips. Mark has a hankering and I never met a fry I didn't learn to love. We also milled around and looked at sea urchins like barnacles and mussels and snail much like giddy 10 year olds. I even slipped on a seaweedy rock and fell on my tuccus (and was wearing skirt) to complete the graceful day. Today, like a proper Sunday, we spent the entire day paying homage to toast and tea with the Guardian, the Sunday Times and The Herald and broke our promises to ourselves and each other to go to the gym. Now it is too early to go to bed but too late to do anything but ... and I have yet to get out of the lazy day wardrobe.

I already have the Monday morning stomach ache. And wondering if it will go away after a few weeks of doing this. I realize that almost everyone in Goes to Work Every Day. And I am making an oddly large amount of noise about it. I just wonder what happened to me that I am finding it all rather hard to swallow. Or does everyone find it hard to swallow and have just learned to ignore the mass in their stomach that tells them that this is not what they are meant to do.

fashion notes

Ok, thank you all for the poncho wearability update. Consensus is that I can still wear it, mostly, but it is no longer Bleeding Edge. Noted and appreciated.

I have noticed the following trends here in Eburg:

• lots of dresses/skirts over trousers/jeans. Intriguing and I am not sure I could pull off . will consider. I may be too conservative and not enough funky factor.
  
• flat flats, ballet slippers shoes on all women
  
• what we used to call 'skimmers' in the late 80s... like pumps but without the heel. hideous reincarnation
• leggings under short minis. with no feet. just to the ankle. only works on the very minute women under the age of me.
  
• loads of annie lennox short and sassy haircuts on the women 30+. Usually coloured in funky hues. Love it.
• many very beautiful women in general here. I notice and am also reminded when walking with subtle Mark. Nicely, he includes me in the grouping. He is smart.
  

day 3

past the hump
and all the better
for I've had a few meetings with a few people
and feel interconnected
which helps
me
feel
like me

observations from my space

My caveat and message to the universe and to this post is that I am VERY grateful to have a job. I am happy to earn OK money in an honest way. And am glad I have the skills and abilities to work without getting sweaty or dirty. I am pleased to work. I want to work. That said, I have some initial thoughts on re-entry to the corporate world.

• Note that my observations are from my space. Not an office or a cube, just a space along a row with 2 people on my right and 1 person on my left. It is one large room with many many rows of such configurations. Turning the handle on the machine. This is how the UK offices look. Standard. No walls. Nowhere to hide.
  
• Access to outside e-mail like yahoo is blocked (this is normal now, yes?)
  
• Coffee is either downstairs at Discounted Starbucks or free instant coffee from a free vending machine (y-u-c-k-o), no mug to wash, Andrew. Plastic. Which enhances the flavour.
  
• Weirdly, no garbage cans (or rubbish bins for that matter) under your desk space. One big one you walk to with your apple core near the vending maching. (It gives you are reason to get out of your chair)
• Also so very unlike my many other American jobs, NO ONE is surfing or on e-mail not only because things are blocked, but also you have visuals on pretty much everyone's computer. And people are not camped out chatting either. No visitor chairs = no visitors, I guess.
  
• No kilts in the workplace yet (although yes, I have seen plenty since I have been here and I am finding it rather sexy)
• Guys wear ties, gals wear anything slightly businessy. But lots of high heels. The boys have noted the discrepancy (why do WE hafta wear ties???) and are not happy to have to wear the noose. I agree it is unfair.
  
• Friday is jeans day, naturally
• People say wee a whole lot "Can you hold a wee minute?" Or "I am a wee bit concerned we are not meeting the deadline"
• People also say Aye for yes. As in "Aye, I'll be at the meeting" or Do you want to go? "Aye"
  
• Scots have a very calming and lovely manner and I want to be one. I do feel I am flying the American flag every time I open my yap. I am hoping they find me at the very worst different, at the best mildly amusing.
• I can only understand 3 of every 5 Scottish accents.
  

Remember when you got a job at 16 doing something like, um Taco Bell? And it really reminded you that you were going to school so you didn't have to work in that environment? I kinda feel that way now after 2 years of not having to be in my desk at my job from 9 to 5. I don't mind the work I do at these jobs really. I have a hard time getting very attached to any of it. But mostly I mind the prisoner feeling of having to BE THERE. And it so far is re-establishing my commitment to my coaching and/or at least a flexible space. One that is not in a row.

the badge is back 

First day on the job!

Must look neat and tidy and un-memorable. (Nothing worse than turning up in an outfit that makes a statement and you are forever called Girl in Pink or the One with the Dress.) Bottom line is that I survived that first day horror of not really having anything to do and having to try to look like I am doing something. And all the while seeming alert and enthusiastic and sitting more erect than is comfortable. And wondering if I am going to the bathroom more than everyone else and if they are noticing.

She was a long one, today.

But the in house subsidized Starbucks and lunch and nice Scottish co-workers were bonuses for the trade of office air.

And nice husband to escort me on a walk home.

I may even go back. Each day this week.

God help me. 

I need to know

Are ponchos still in?

Living with a boy (even Mark) I have no barometer on what still works. And I don't quite have the feel of Edinburgh style yet, although I think J Jill (oh how I miss you) esque might define it. More linen, less lace.
Less trashy than Cambridge's townies. More aging artist and yummy mummy.

So I am going to be ballsey and wear my apple green poncho tonight out for pizza with neighbour/client/friend Mark Lister and his fab girlfriend, handbag maker Katherine and Mark's wee boy and his sister and kids visiting from US of A.

Please let me know if I am making a 2002 fashion statement. You know who you are.

pizza, diet coke and cable

I am a simple girl after all.

Mark is on his wedding gift from me Learn to Cook Fish Course in London and all I want to do is watch TV and read. I am rediscovering the joys of recently rerun Will and Grace and the occasional Party of 5. I think I am front loading my TV time as I will soon be relegated to evenings and weekends like normal people.

I reali(z)se that I am obsessing about working. I am just nervous that I am, in part, returning to a kind of job I turned from when I started coaching. I don't want to go backwards. I know deep down that I have changed and grown and at least mutated into something different than those days of numb cubicles and getting through the day. I am just scared of the flashbacks.

So I am turned off, tuned out and tellytubbying myself into a rubbery gauze of relaxation and simple pleasure.

I blinked and I have a job

I was just looking forward to watching TV and being able to e-mail people and catch up online... and to having rugs on the floors and things in place on the new shelves. And to know where my undies were and to wake up knowing where I was. And a library card, and a doctor! In the last 2 weeks, all those things all happened and somewhere along the line I also got a job.

Starting Monday.

Gulp.

It is a 3-month contract job (through a recruiter) for Standard Life Bank (mortgages) doing a marketingy thing -- helping get all their marketing collateral updated now that they are a PLC. Most importantly, I will be setting my alarm and showering and blow drying my hair and getting on the bus and wearing shoes with heels, pants with a zipper and button and talking to other people in person in a cube. I will even have a badge to get in.

It worries me. Seems All too 2004, yes?

I will be on the job during work hours of 9 to 5. What a way to make a living. And coaching in the off hours.

Trial run to see if I remember how to play well with others. And see what the inside of a Scottish company is like. And muse about my Next Steps in coaching, working and living. All the while making some dough for the family name and accounts. I am proud. I am a bit nervous. And I am a bit full of dread. I had a good run.

It also feels as a bit fast as I was hoping to while away August with Mark, finding a new gym and going to cheap Fringe Festival shows. But when she knocks, you answer.

I am finding Scotland quite lovely. And not JUST because I am wearing a sweater in August while the rest of Western Civilization is sweating to the oldies. Although it helps. Talk to me when it is Day 400 of rain and cold in December though.

But Edinburgh people are nice. Really friendly. Edinburgh is hilly, which made for the premier bike ride suprisingly un-enjoyable. (Greenie was not, repeat NOT happy with all the cobblestones.) Wind suckingly hilly. And everywhere I turn I find a restaurant I want to eat at. And shops I want to buy things in. And streets I want to walk down.

And all the fun starts next week. I plan on being as lazy as possible for the next 4 days so I can be so sick of myself come Monday and ready to do anything. Anything include work.

At our good bye evening with the professionally fit friends Kelly & Chris.  

YE HAW! We made it! (Plus, nice abs shot, Marko!) 

only barely connected

Just so you know, I am forced to use actual telphone dial up for our internet and we have to PAY for the call, so I am being infrequent in my e-mail check ups. I am feeling so very behind in news of the world and of my people. It is cruel and feels punishing to be so hindered, but come Tuesday we shall be 24/7 again. And I shall resume my OCD e-mailing.

Happy Mary Faculjak Day on August 3! 

The famous Alexander McCall Smith at this signing at John Lewis department store. He was charming and lovely. And has enormously bushy eyebrows. 

AND the super deluxe bonus, Alexander McCall Smith in my hood for a signing of his new Edinburgh-based books! 

Monitoring the progress....  

Our front entrance! Note the garden location down the stairs...  

The happy helper Mum Val with her grateful son 

Mark's pop Tim making a flower basket for our front stoop 

In the National Rent a Van ... headed to the promised land. 

The long and winding road on the A1 to Scotland 

At our good bye drink up with the Cambridge crew. I was deeply overserved this night and even barfed. Out with a bang. 

the fun of dis-assembly! This is Project Cambridge Exit 

10 initial reactions

1. We do not have broadband or a TV signal until next week making it 10 days sans connections. Am forced to Dial UP! And monitor my online time as it is 4p a minute!
2. We have an awesome home. Front stoop complete with in-law created hanging flower baskets. (my first!)
3. Back garden for table/chairs/laundry line
4. conservatory for total tea time with book and watching the sky
5. SEAGULLS! We are in the urban city, but no so far from the Firth of Forth, so instead of pigeons, we have literal squawking seagulls laughing and swooping.
6. Within 2 blocks: health food store, wine shop, Indian, Tapas, 3 pubs, Thai, Italian, Take Away joint, Coffee, 3 news agents, John Lewis & large shopping center, Fishmonger, award-winning butcher, florist, cute paper/cards store. WHAT MORE COULD A GIRL ASK FOR? Ok, a bookstore/library & a Bobbi Brown or Aveda store and a yoga center and a gym, but still... not shabby.
   
7. Despite a funds freeze, we have a small amount allocated for home decor -- and bought a great stripy rug for the l room. And god help us, we are going to Ikea today.
   
8. Promise to post photos as soon as I am organized.
   
9. We also have a power shower that makes you glad you are dirty.
   
10. I have to find a job.
    

finally here

• sorting, piling, taping, boxes, moving trucks, sweating, loading, cleaning, painting, cuts, bruises, so very dirty
• driving, tired, maps, more sweating, so very bleary
• stanley knives, rubbish, packing materials, bubble wrap, dumps, so very tired
• unpacking, assembling, washing, drilling, list making, so very weary
• choosing, deciding, head scratching, imagining, so very puzzled
• seeing what's possible, loving it, showering, so very clean
• walking to internet cafe to write, so very hopeful
• recovering and sighing happily, so very cheery

counting down to Edinburgh

we are on the hole filling, painting over the mess phase... we each have a bag of undies and clean clothes to live off of. Fridge is clean and food free. We have granola bars and take out menus.

Have to wrap the couch and the bed and the tea bags... movers come (I am being optimistic) tomorrow noon and load us up. Then we clean up the remainder of the house and get in the car and climb north for 3 hours. Stay in cheap roadside hotel and get back in the car at Oh:Dark Thirty Wednesday morning to continue the journey 3 1/2 more hours to sign the lease at 10:30 a.m. in Edinburgh. Movers to come to new pad with stuff at noon.

Fingers crossed. New home awaits!

I'd post

a photo of all the boxes I am crowded behind, but we already packed the cord that connects my camera to the computer. Mark, sans job is totally a dynamo with this packing business. I am literally left in the dust, weakly protesting that we don't need to pack up the bathrooms yet as we have 7 more days to live in this house. I can't complain -- he is really doing all the heavy lifting. I am still in the musing stage where I have to consider all my cosmetics and decide which lipsticks are not going to make the move with me. Mark has lists and schedules and time tables. I am clearly not in charge. It is lovely. Even if it is rushing my esoteric approach to packing. And things are getting 'ungrouped' which is a pet disturbance. ("The pillows all have to stay together!")

So I am hanging on to shreds of what is normal. And redefining that word hourly.
Next week at this time, we should be in our car driving part way to E-burgh for our Wednesday morning lease signing and key getting and mover meeting.

Now to ride the wave and throw out what is no longer serving me. Like old eyeliners of my life.

Add Lex in the middle for Charlie's Angels shot. These gals are not only brilliant, but beauties.  

Libby, me & Ulrika. Coach girl power when as we pow-wowed and reunited at Libby's London house for a day of sharing and eating Lurpak.  

summer summed up

Retiree Mark on Parker's Piece (a.k.a Parkers Posey) as we await the 6:00 p.m. opening of Mai Thai restaurant so we could use our (no lie) early bird coupon.

This photo is the wallpaper of my (new) flash mobile phone. I look like a proper savvy career girl again. Or at least my phone does.  

let the packing commence

Starting, um, Saturday!

I just can't seem to want to give up shades of normalcy. Once the first drawer is emptied, the first box created and taped and filled, we will have no more room to walk or breathe. I love normalcy. I loathe chaos.

So I am lalala, Ican'tseeyou to the giant stack of packing supplies in the corner of the living room. (if you face the TV you can't even see 'em!) And taking today as Throwing Away Magazines. It seems safe, makes room and is painless. (relatively, if anyone remembers my 10 year collection of Vanity Fairs in my Quebec House place, you know it ain't THAT easy)

Movers come July 25.

Plenty of time.

lalallalalalalalalala

mark's 2 cents

Mark adds:
- sunny days biking along the river
- discovering cute pubs

And I am adding:
- hanging laundry on our line
- the countrified blue blood Cambridge village types rather than the townies with their king cans of 10:00 a.m. lager who scared me

( I have to make him read this by the way, he claims he ' knows' what is going on in my life, so he doesn't need to read my blog. See how wrong he is??)

things I'll miss in Cambridge

1. watching the treetops and bird activity from the office window
2. biking midday to Cambridge market and looking at used books and fresh fruit
   
3. sessions at the complementary health center with my acupuncturist (and first mother of greenie) Laura
4. the predictability of the overly friendly butcher and the consistently amazing chicken breasts
   
5. living on the dead end with only foot traffic, bike traffic and people turning around in their cars who don't know it is a dead end
6. finding people resting, reading, hanging on any of the many greens at any time of day
7. the library -- order online, pick it up in person, badda boom badda bing
   
8. walking into any class at the gym and knowing someone and being friends with the instructor
   
9. the occasional booze fueled fight in front of our house, giving us front row seats to our morbid curiousity
10. the International store where I could discover ingredients I never knew exisited and I could count on for everything I ever needed for Indian or Thai cooking
    
11. daily Sainsbury trips
12. stretches of time with nothing but dinner to plan
13. my first home in the United Kingdom
14. familiar faces and casual acquaintances at the gym
15. actual friends and cheery souls who made the gym our second home
16. the bumpy, buggy bike path to the gym, where you pass a military training field full of bunnies
17. number 2 bus down Mill Road
    
18. No suits
19. Picturehouse Arts Theater -- for its bad lattes, its tasty cakes, wornout couches and ability to help us feel part of the cool culture, and the steady diet of essential film for 2 years
20. CB2 -- bloody mary, lamb burger lunches
21. annoying owner lady at the noodle house
22. our nearly nonexistent but friendly relations with our neighbor Chris
23. the gas fireplace -- nice for a quick ambiance shortcut or a warm up
24. our parking spot -- crooked and hard to get in, but always there
    
25. the place where we made it all come real
    

P.S.

1. Thank god England lost on Saturday to Portugal. I mean, sorry St. George, but I couldn't take the pressure. The country really shuts DOWN and collectively bites all of its nails. Too much angst and violent hope. Now people can be bitter and complain about the now canned manager Sven and get on with living and there are now only the semi finals and the final to endure. I am voting for Italy.
2. Thank god we can replace football with the Cambridge Film Festival. We are signed up for 8 films in the next 10 days. Mark hearts not working. I heart summer movies in A/C.
3. Covered 700+ miles on the train north yesterday -- to E-burgh and back in one day to visit and measure and touch our new garden flat. Eating in the 1st Class dining car is truly a highlight of living. We are giddy excited and Mark has the flat completely (I am very serious) laid out on Excel, with furniture and storage placement according to height and width measurement specs. These are reasons why I love him.
4. And finally, a disclosure. I think I forgot to brush my teeth today. Seriously.

fourth of July

In England... easy to 100% forget this holiday. I actually didn't even remember until I looked at the calendar at noon. And while I would really like a grilled brat, a familial or friend gathering, I am ok being over here.

July 4th just makes me think if being at Silver Lake all day with the family, getting as tan as possible (possibly flirting with Bill Cooley, my summer lust) and high-tailing it home to Hales Corners for fireworks at the park... a.k.a. Trolling around with friends and scoping out as many upper classmen boys and looking for a party. It was teenage hormone time. And also remarking every year about babies in diapers and sparklers too close... and lots of OFF!

It was a time to reconnect with people from school that you hadn't seen since it let out and cause trouble. Not very patriotic. And sadly, now that I am older and hardly ever trolling for upperclassmen, and way over here in a country that we are celebrating independence FROM, I don't miss it. Sad really.

I like that flag cake.

2gether2much

Mark's last day of BT employment was yesterday. Yay for him. No more answering to the Man. No more office. He is his own person now until Uni of Edinburgh claims his brain and his waking hours in September. He is free bird.

And now we embark on what most retirees fear and dread and get therapy for. Both of us home. Together. In the 3rd month of marriage. I have had the run of the house as the lady of the manor now for almost 2 years now. Sending him off in the morning like a nice June Cleaver with a packed lunch and a kiss and sinking happily into My Day. Napping at whim, coaching with office door open, having questionably un-nutritious lunches, going to day-time gym classes on my own, being OCD about checking e-mail, chatting to Lexie for long conversations about tidying up the house and coaching issues and sex lives and nothing and everything , tidying up 10 minutes before he gets home. And I was always happy as a puppy to see him. Ahhhhhhh. Sweet, beautiful life.

Now no more sending him out the door. Since we have been back from our marathon wedding trips, he has been around more than ever and I have not, repeat not handled it with grace and love. We were both trashed and exhausted and eager to zone out and routine-ize out lives. Which for me included him being, um, not here. Solitude has been the more glorious gift of this move over here... Who knew I would lap it up so greedily?

Where was my space? My TV time? My silent place? My long and empty day to fill without conversation or negotiation or witness? I missed it!! So I have been kinda snappish, short and annoyed. And now I must stop. We have been given 2 months together without the pull of full time jobs. To pack, to move, to lay by the pool, to go the gym, to be. Something , I know, we must take advantage of and ENJOY! It shant happen again until we ARE retired. Yet, I can't help but wonder, why now this lesson/or this gift? I struggle without boundaries of you go, I stay, see you later. How do you miss someone who never leaves?

We have never been ones to shy away from a challenge with each other, but this one is throwing me. In the next year we will be swapping roles -- from student to earner. And I am resisting giving up this luxury of time and space. Or, resisting sharing it. Selfish cow that I am.

I know marriage is hard and we just started. Or maybe I should say, live is kinda hard and marriage is part of it. Or the coach in me would say, new things are scary. Uncharted territory can shake you up. It wakes you up and makes you notice where you are going and what you are doing. Maybe I have just been a bit too cozy in this easy place and now it is time to wake up and join the land of the day-job, the land of stepping up and the land I just signed up for -- of togetherness. Lots of it. For a long long time.