The Calm Flat.

Today, the small things began to register.  Since Ryan has left, although we love him dearly and miss him too!  Our flat has been sooo quiet!  I made a comment to Anne, and before I could even finish my thought about the calmness of our place, she agreed and gave a little giggle.

Other small things I have began to realize.  I gazed in my diary (no I don’t have a diary, it is what the Brits call agendas) and I saw the countdown I began.  On each day I have a number in the corner signifying how many days I have left here.  Well then!  I gave myself a slap on the wrist, and told myself, ‘no more!’  No more longing to be ‘home’ no more counting down the days until I reach Canada, NOPE!  I am living in a foreign (well kinda isn’t any more) country and all I see around me is my sorry moppy attitude talking about how I can’t wait to get home.  That is absolute rubbish behaviour!  I mean, wake up Amanda!!! You are living in England!

I remember just as clear, my countdown to get here, so today I have decided no more countdowns!  Enjoy the small things, this is your adventure! You decided to come here, enjoy it and take in as much British living as you can.

With that said.  I ventured out after work, for me tea! I then picked up a few things from the market, which I would never buy in Canada.  I purchased Piri Piri sauce, bangers and mash, sticky toffee pudding, and a mince pie.  Satisfied with my new outlook on things I trekked through a constant drizzle all the way home.  Now, when I say constant I mean it has been non-stop raining since last Wednesday. 

Who would have thunk it?  Flooding in England? NO WAY!

To my Lovely Mitchell!

Ahhh.... Yes!  It actually looks sunny in this pic!

Can you see the sidewalk?  ummm..... I need wellies!

Oh and this guy!  He was just roaming around Wednesday morning! There was no fenced in area and was across the street from the school I was at eekkkk!!

Then he turned away telling my to leave him him be!

I enjoyed the cold bitter weather.  I watched a little girl, in her pink ‘Hunter wellies’ and a lady bug raincoat splash through all the puddles as her parents giggled at her.  See, if I was still in a countdown mood, I would have missed this small feature of my walk!

I didn’t fret about my blow dried hair, turning into a frizz ball, or the fact that I had soaked socks.  I even closed my umbrella, yes Ryan... I did it! Haha... Ryan is always thinking I am crazy because I have become accustomed to bringing my umbrella everywhere with us, and he thinks I over use it.  Believe me I need umbrellas!!! When I am in the rain, I MELT!

Today I melted... to the point that when I finally made it home, I had to wring out my hair, socks, and ME COAT! (Do you like what I did there with the ME in my writing?)

I told a lad in my class, to go to the ‘toilet’ and sort out his nose, because he has ‘boogies’ in it.  Apparently, they do not call them boogers.  Because, afterwards he told me that he had no idea what he was looking for when he went for a wee.

To end off a great day, I took a break from a work out, yes I am attempting the gym due to the awaiting wedding gown that is already bought in Canada, and took a look out the window.  I saw many things that I will probably never see again, I saw England.

My body is here... but my mind and heart is where it should be.

I set aside a moment, more like a few hours to think of the mother land today. ..

... I think about Mrs. Madeline Bouliane turning 90 years old, and I am not there to drink a bottle of wine with her. 

I think about Paul Perry feeling better and being out of the hospital.

I think about Lily, and try to imagine her, because I have not held her.  I imagine her infant smell, her baby cries, and her new awareness to her surroundings.

I try to visualize Nash’s voice, saying new words and learning new things every day.

I can close my eyes and see Diddo wearing a button down shirt, and Nancy asking him to take it off because it needs to be ironed.

I can feel the hug I would give to Nancy, when she looks upset and says, “I wish my dad could be here”.

I can hear mumma asking me to stay for a cup of coffee, when she really means, she would like me to stay for 5 pots.

I can smell the slimy dog stench of Kirby, as he makes his way up to your lap, even if you don’t want him to be there.

I can feel the tenseness of Ohio’s arms, as I pick him up to snuggle, telling me that he does not want to snuggle.

I can smell Alex’s birthday cake candles, and see a younger brother, as compared to a baby one.

I can here Mitch’s mumble turn into an actual conversation, as I plaque him with questions.

I can hear jerry’s ‘ing’s’ turning into ‘in’s’ when he brings up the ‘weddin’.

I can see Mary Ann’s face light up as we all agree to play settlers.

I can hear Ryan twist off the cap of the celery salt, as he perfects ceasers for all of us to drink.

I can here Ms. Amy correct one of us, as we try and say something in German.

I can block out the soccer match I hear from all the way down the stairs, that Marty and Chris has blaring.

I can feel the gentle shake of Rusty, near my feet, signifying that he would like something, anything, from the dinner table!

Then again it’s all just imagines.  They are still important because I hold them in my mind, and my heart, for those few hours I think of the homeland.  I am so extremely lucky to have all of this, and so much more to look forward to.  It’s what drives me every day. 

The countdown is on... 56 days.

The One beside Pinocchio’s

Pinocchio’s, a lovely Italian restaurant here in the ‘Toon’, was the very first place in England that Ryan and I ate at.  It truly is a sweet spot!  It is sooo funny to reflect back now, and remember this outing.  I can remember how we thought it was extremely cheap, so cheap that we thought that they had messed up our bill.  I remember now, that we paid around 15 quid for 2 meals, which included alcoholic beverages.  We kept thinking, as we sat there staring at the bill, there is no way! They must’ve not included our starter?  They had to have forgotten something!  This is far too cheap of a bill.

I also remember tipping our server, because that is just what you are supposed to do, right?!

While Ryan and I marveled at this sweet little bistro, we decided that we loved Pinocchio’s and would bring friends and family here when they visited.

Great plan!  Or so we thought...

Our love for Pinocchio’s has never faded, and every time we felt hunger pains and were in the ‘toon’ we would march on over to Pinocchio’s to eat a 3 course meal, for £6.95.  Well it hasn’t been that easy, every time we have walked up to the light blue door, Pinocchio’s has been closed!

We have brought Amy, Stumpy, Kristina, Daniel, and Anne all to Pinocchio’s light blue door, and every time we have been faced with a closed sign!

Anyway, why all this nonsense?  You see, Ryan has left Geordie life today.  He is, as I blog, on a train to Manchester to fly back to the mother land!  He is heading back to sort out a new job and school for next year.

Today, we took the coach into the ‘toon’ to run some errands, and for Ryan to have his last round about the city center.  We also decided to have our last dinner together.  It was only fit to, of course, head to Pinocchio’s.  It is where it all began, and it sure would be nice to end it off on a similar note.  GUESS WHAT HAPPENED...  It was closed!!!!

All the times, we have ventured out to Pinocchio’s only to be saddened by the closed sign we have eaten at the place next to Pinocchio’s.  The place next to Pinocchio’s is an Italian restaurant as well, and it offers 3 course meals for the exact same price.  We have been to this place beside Pinocchio’s probably about 4 times, and each time has been because Pinocchio’s was closed.

After stuffing our bodies to an uncomfortable state, including coffee we trudged through the rain back to the coach station.  During our horrific walk (I have thrown out our umbrellas because both of them were absolute rubbish) therefore our walk left us drenched and angry.  What lightened the mood was Ryan saying,

“Ya know, I don’t even know the name of the place next to Pinocchio’s, have you ever noticed it?”

“Haha... I have not!” I replied...

All these times we went to this place and we don’t even know what it is called, what we do know... is that it’s next to Pinocchio’s.

So yes, it is true; my love of my life has boarded a train from platform 7 today at Central Station. With all of his belongings, minus a sock, which Anne found in the washer, and 3 shirts that were left hanging to dry in the spare bedroom (oops) Ryan is Canada bound.

As I annoyed Ryan on our travels to Central Station, saying things like “This is the last time you will be at 12 Craghall Dene, This is the last time you will walk to South Gosforth metro, this is the last time you will buy a metro ticket, this is the last time you will see the Tyne!”  We thought of our fond and not so fond memories here at Geordie land and we came up with this.

We took a risk, and met some fantastic people.  We learned more about the world, and about each other.  I also thanked him for taking this journey with me, because frankly it was for me.  I was the stubborn one who just had to teach the first year after my education degree, I was the one who wanted to take my career mobile, and he was, and continues to be, the one that allows me to think big!  Think past the glass ceilings and the clouds.  He never brings me back down even if my ideas are absolutely mad.

After reflecting on Geordie life, I look over and asked,

“So, what country next?”

I will just have to say, stay tuned to find out where we decide to venture out on our next journey together.

Magpied the Proper way...Whey Aye!

St. James, has called Ryan by his first name ever since we landed on this Northern Rock.  Taunting him, Saturday after Saturday, even Sundays too!  Metros packed with magpies of all ages, swamped together  making their way to the Haymarket to visit the Toon loving pub, known as, The Goose.

Ryan’s eyes would resemble a child in a candy shop, as he watched the black and white clad Geordies trudge their way down Northumberland Street. 

“Why can’t it be me?”  Ryan would constantly ask himself.

“I want to be a part of the ‘Toon Army’, and witness the rituals that happen behind the walls of St James’ Park”.

“I want to sing their songs, belt out their chants, and drink their pints!!!!”

Okay okay, Ryan!!! We hear you; I will consult with our tour guide, ‘Sir Daniel Alecks’ and see what we can do.

We finally did it!  It only took us 8 months, but we made our way to a NUFC match! 

Visiting St. James Park and partaking in the chanting, singing, and pint drinking was all I could have imagined it to be.  Don’t just take my written word for it; take a look at these classic videos to witness the Geordified mob that we stood in, on Easter Monday 2012.

Grandpa Norman also made it to Newcastle this Easter.  Here he is cheering on the Toon army.  He was so excited about the goals that day, that he turned around and embraced me after each one!  Thank goodness there were only 2 goals that day!  Because hugging Geordie strangers is not how I pictured spending my visit to St. James Park.

Wait for it, but you will spot him, he is the quiet one sitting directly in front of me.  Also, those chants you hear are in actual English...

We have also been extremely busy with other activities as well!  Such activities include, TRYING TO LOCATE EASTER EGG DYE!!!!

Easter in Newcastle = no peeps, no Mr. Solid, no Mr. Nutty, no Easter bunny to sit on in the mall, and no Easter egg dye!!! Errrrrrrrr.......

I am missing our commercialized country, especially for the PEEPS!

Peter Cotton Tail came by, and hand delivered Anne her ears!  Or he gave me ten quid to do it for him.

No egg dye, no problem.  I brought out my crayons and felt tips!

Anne made deviled eggs for Easter Sunday breakfast, not only were they disguised as baby chick faces, they tasted amazing too!

More evidence that there is an Easter Bunny!!!

Oh, and did you hear?  I have, since moving to Newcastle, turned into a witch look alike.  This is fitting too, because I have been involved with photo shoots for our engagement photos.  Somehow my nose has found my chin, and physically they have decided to meet one another. 

Once again the photography is amazing, due to ‘Sir Alecks’ talents, yet my face has decided to turn into a horrific sight, ruining half of our photos.

This one is beautiful, only because you can't see my face! haha...

Still okay, because again, my nose is not insight!

WHHHHHAT!!!!!!!! WHO IS THAT WITCH WITH MY FIANCEE???

I am not even going to get into the hair, or the fact that a ginger is more tanned than I am??!!!

Here is a Wednesday camera photo dump. Enjoy......HAPPY WEDNESDAY!

The way British men sit.

The way American men sit.

This is what I will miss.... random ruins and castles all over the place!

Ryan's British pose.  With the background here, Ryan fits in with his 'vest'.

bluffs and castles, no biggy...

Ryan's photography skills...

5 seconds after I asked Ryan to help me with wedding invites.

Haymarket metro on Match day!!!

You are allowed to bring your children into the pub with you while you get shit faced, but they must then leave by 7pm.

Say WHAT!?

Beautiful Anne, some Geordie guy, and RY...

This one is for mom.  I thought of you when I seen this.  I asked the barmaid, "What does the Mars machine do?"  She had no idea what I was asking her...

Look the Fleur De Lis!  Too bad this is on an outdoor toilet!

Outdoor toilet, found in the BiGg MaRkEt Newcastle.

The Curry Hell Challenge the boys took during dinner.  The curry won.

Curry Hell!

My sensible option.

 Until next time, keep fit and have fun!

Home again, home again Jiggity Jig!

Our journey is winding down, and it is quite remarkable, because it feels as if we have just landed.  We had little to almost no time to catch our breath, and live in the small moments.  It has been such a whirl-win that we have not, unfortunately been able to, ‘enjoy the small things’.

Nicci, had said it best, she said, “I don’t think it will ever feel like home.”  After I had confided in her that I am still yearning to feel settled.

As I reflect now, Ryan and I have never really felt, or been for that matter, settled.  I am not complaining, not one bit.  Even during ‘uni’ we moved every single August.  We work best that way. We have learned how to pack up our lives in less than an hour, using only 1 suitcase each.

The thing is we have settled things; we have stuff that belongs in a home, a settled home.  We just don’t know how to settle down.  We have art even, art that is supposed to hang over our mantle.  The art has sat in Diddo’s and Nancy’s attic for about 5 years now.  We have towels, linens, appliances, countless knife sets, but nowhere to share them.

I cannot wait to have our first settled place, believe me I am hosting Christmas when this happens, but  it just may not be tomorrow, or even next year.  Patience is something that Ryan has taught me.  Although not all of you may agree that I have this virtue, not even Ryan, but I know I have learned this trait from him, because although he has these Christmas hosting dreams as well, there are other dreams, bigger dreams that we both, together want to accomplish first.  Unfortunately, these dreams and accomplishments take time, and PATIENCE thus is why settling is far from a grasp, it is more like a glimpse in the future, a sliver of hope that one day might be near.

Until then there may be other journeys for us to take.  New countries may be on our radar, or maybe just new provinces, nevertheless we have learned a fabulous lesson.  This lesson is, ‘we are not defined by where we live’.  Nicci, again, has helped me with this one.  Where you live should not define you.  I continue to understand this more and more each and every day.

Naturally, when I share my woes with family and friends their first reactions are to, ‘come home’.  What is difficult about this statement is, ‘where’s home?’  To them, it is Windsor, a place I have lived in for 9 months during the past 6 years.  Yes of course my love is there, Ryan’s too.  We love Windsor; we love it for the fact that we both feel comfy there.  Ryan loves visiting his old roots, and together every time we roll into Windsor, Walker road seems a bit more chaotic, more modern, more sub-divisions, more restaurants, banks, box stores.  Something else trickles down our spines, unfamiliarity.  Although family and friends are the first things we think of when we ride by Montanas and Staples it can also be the same thing we think of once we hit the 115 and the tapley quarter line. 

Meaning for us home is in many places.  We are blessed to have so many places to call home.

Mary Ann said something tonight that triggered this rant.  We were telling her about our trips ‘home’ and she asked me, ‘are you flying into Toronto, or Windsor?’  There it is... where is home?  Or which home are you flying to?

Well one day Ryan and I will have our ‘own home’, a place that we will always be ‘flying into’, but until then we have our gracious families and friends who welcome us into ‘their homes’, and make us feel, ‘at home’.

Now that I have gotten out all the philosophical stuff, here is a video to lighten the mood.

Anne made a fantastic apple cake.  Here I didn't realize our camera was on record until Ryan gives a funky half smile! haha... Then I wanted to pay respects to the baker, and she shunned me!