HOLIDAY ROMANCE?

"Welcome to Texas, Ma'am", was the greeting I received from a clerk, (pronounced the way it is spelt here,) who had called to let me know that papers were ready for collection.  "I have been here fifteen years!", I replied, in my best English accent.  "Oh well, y'all must think I am such a 'hick'!" came the reply.  I responded that as much as she liked to listen to me talk, I was just as enamoured with her accent.  "Can't think why!" she laughed.  It was Monday morning, I had driven myself into work, and I had not quite managed to shake off the jet lag, or perhaps I had not managed to get myself into 'gear'.  Despite being back a week, I still felt as if I was in neutral.  Could it be that this was now 'home' and home was now simply the 'holiday'?  It had taken a long time for me to call my current location 'home', and a few years ago when I landed here after an international flight and thought, "I'm home", home was both places.  Perhaps I had lost the 'new life' feeling.  However, the lady who welcomed me this particular morning helped me to put the gear stick into first, and start driving again!

Samantha had taken Grant to drop off his car, as there had been a 'recall'.  I had suggested that if his car was not ready, he could take mine home and bring it back the next day.  Whilst thankful, he was not as enamoured with the idea as I was with the clerk's accent!  

Despite my best efforts, I could not shift what was starting to feel like 'January blues'.  This was not helped by the message I received from Samantha later in the afternoon.  It was a picture of a bloodied dog's paw.  "What happened?" I typed back.  "Dunno!" came the response.  Interestingly enough, this appeared to be another  catalyst.  I walked from my office back to Dana, and showed him the picture.  "I can't go through this with a dog again!" I said and he almost laughed.  "You are concerned about the dog?  There was a time ...", and that was it!  There was a time, in the old days ....!  This was part of the new life.  Even though the new life was heading towards the age of consent, (albeit the English age of consent, not to be confused with the age of majority, if you are not confused already,) in comparison, it is still relatively new.  I was in a bit of a quandary. For the first two years in Texas, I had longed to feel at home.  I loved my new life, but I was terribly home sick.  Family events, births, deaths, marriages, etc., that I was not home for, caused me to grieve whether a happy or sad occasion.  Was this January blues, or was this merely 'fitting in', feeling 'at home'.  Living 'real life'.  Was the grass greener on the other side of the fence?  


The dog had managed to break a nail, at the base, which meant not a lot to me other than it did not sound good.  The vet had not considered it to be a disastrous situation and dealt with it quite swiftly.  I felt able to relax and started to feel a little bit better.  

I had baked in the morning and had quite a bit of clearing up to do when I got home.  As I washed up I started to question my own rules.  I longed for routine, yet when I got back into routine, I started to feel it is mundane.  Was there no pleasing me?  Obviously not!  

My nails were in a terrible state.  Not the same terrible state that they were ten years ago, but the polish was chipped and the transfers that had been added were pealing off.  I had not taken adequate care when 'at home', like wearing gloves or protection.  Joe did not answer his text so I went into work before heading towards the salon.  Michele was late, as the traffic had been quite heavy on both sides of the river.  "So, tell me about the Royals", she said, wanting my perspective on the recent news about Harry and Megan. I felt a little better.  I was still an 'outsider'.  Feeling a little better one step at a time could be the solution!  "But you would not spend all your time with the kids if you lived in England would you".  It was a statement, not a question, following the discussion, following the question, "How was your trip?  What did you do?"  Perhaps I was suffering the after effects of a 'holiday romance'.  I had enjoyed myself so much with my grandchildren, but 'real life' would not allow me to spend twenty four hours, seven days a week playing 'cops and robbers', and building Lego.  

Leaving Michele, with my nails a rather interesting combination of rose gold and black, I felt much better.  I raced back to work, sent my staff shopping, and headed home early to prepare dinner for my Wednesday evening soiree.  My house was much cleaner than it had been the previous week, as I was now 'home' and my daily routine had been adhered to, religiously.  Yes, things were starting to feel better.  "What's nut roast?" was the question when I presented my friend with an alternative to meat, as he has opted to become a vegetarian (or pescatarian to be more precise).  "It's meatloaf made with nuts instead of meat", I said.  I have wanted to make this particular dish since the early eighties, when I first tried it, but never had access to all the ingredients, or perhaps more to the point, the financial wherewithal!  Nuts and lentils would never have been a 'standard' in my cupboards!  Oh but they are now!  Happier and happier I was feeling, and January still only fifty percent completed!  

"Will you come to the doggy 'meet and greet' on Saturday?" asked my daughter.  Why of course!  Would I enjoy it?  Probably not, but then it is something new!  Fish tacos with chips and queso are not new, but they are Tex-Mex, and that was new once!  Gradually, step by step, I was getting back into the swing of things, back into routine and back into the old 'new' ways that I have come to relish. 

Saturday was the best!  I felt like an alien!  Fifteen and a half years it has taken me to 'fit in', and when I don't, I am so happy!  What a bizarre turn of events!  Dana and I enjoyed a cup of coffee together before headed out.  I noticed that my purse was not in my bag, and could not think where it could be.  I did panic but then retraced my steps and knew it could only be at home, at the office, or perhaps it had fallen out in the car.  I asked Dana to look once he got to the office.  I did not get a call within what I would consider a reasonable time, so I called him.  Having taken a call from a friend, he had completely forgotten to look, but would remedy that!  It was not there.  I explained that I had not taken my 'bag' into the cafe on Friday when we picked up the 'take out', so it could only be there or the car.  He said he would check when his call was over.  I could not wait, so I got into the car, sped around to the office and ran in.  On entering I saw one of our neighbours, who had been out of town on a 'medical emergency'.  I was pleased to see her, but her news was not good.  Her granddaughter had been in hospital with a brain tumour.  However, it appeared it was not malignant, and the child was home in two days and able to go back to school, albeit a few hours at a time.  Of course, she was still very concerned, but was hopeful and positive.  I did not hug her as I could see she was trying to 'hold it together', and just brushed her arm with my hand, in a gesture which I knew, she knew was a hug!   "How are you?" she asked.  I was fine.  Better than fine.  I was good.  Better than good!  Perspective!  What a word!  

I went into the office and looked on my desk.  My purse was not there.  Dana said he had searched around the desk, but I had another look.  Standing next to a backpack, was the black article that held my life!  I breathed a sigh of relief, gave thanks, and waved it in my hand for Dana to see.  "That's not a purse, it's a wallet!" he said.  Oh yes!  Language barrier.  I'm back!  "You didn't see it though!" I said in my defense.  "I said it had fallen out of my 'bag'!"  I was delighted it was found, although after the shocking news from Sharon, it would not have been the end of the world!

The drive to Walmart was somewhat joyous.  I spoke to Richard on Face-time and to Samantha on voice call.  I went into the store, went to customer services, where I was to retrieve my new desk calendar.  "You have to go to the big orange tower", said the nice lady behind the desk.  I was shown the way to the 'pick up' tower and proceeded to try and retrieve my calendar.  After putting in my name, as the order number did not exist, I was told I would be contacted by a store representative.  In fact the whole store was told, as the large orange tower displayed, "Tracie, help is on the way!"  I danced around as I waited, due to the fact that other people were retrieving their purchases, and the 'lockers' that were either side of the tower were opening as the people entered their details on the keypad, and I managed to stand in front of each box as it opened!  Eventually help did arrive.  "Pardon me?" she said when I explained what I was trying to retrieve.  Eventually, after checking 'out back', she sent me to the photo-centre, where another lady was given the burden of trying to understand me!  Several more minutes went by before my calendar was found.  All's well that ends well, I guess!

"How's Harry's foot?" asked a slim blond lady at the dog assembly.  I was holding the little dachshund in my arms as he had been scared of the vacuum cleaner that was cleaning up the mess left by a few dozen dogs.  "Oh no, what did Harry do?" asked another female, with nails painted in black. (How very 'goth' I thought, and then looked at mine!)  How did they know Harry?  No one knew first names of the owners, just the dogs' names.  I was a bit conspicuous as I was sitting on a chair.  Everyone else had parked themselves on the floor, but with the regularity that the vacuum was being used, I decided the floor was not the place for me to sit!  Of course it had been cleaned, but ....!  I may like the dogs, but I am not there yet!

We left the play date, and took the animals back to Dana, before heading out to our usual haunts.  "Where are you from?" never sounded so sweet!  

I am still very alien.  I am 'the same but different'. I am still the Englishwoman abroad, despite being accepted, and integrated.  January blues, or just life?  From what was I suffering?  Should I use the word 'suffering' so sparingly, and so nonchalantly?  It is quite odd to find yourself wanting so much to be a part of something different, and when you are, feel as if it is the norm.  Tomorrow starts a new week, with a different point of view.  It is Martin Luther King Day!  A holiday!  Holiday romance, or just a break?  Nothing like a holiday to cure the January blues, but then what when it is over?  Stay tuned for ........... another story!