The journey is the reward.

Bad, bad blogger. Hanging head in shame... time for a brief September catch up..



Things spiraled downward these past few weeks. The usual craziness that starts when the school season begins. Going to try and dig myself out of the hole from here.



The kids have been busy with school and after-school activities. This term they are doing the usual things - gymnastics, art, cooking class, an occasional tennis lesson. Jordan was asked to join a competitive gymnastics group that meets for longer practices during the week. I'm debating that one. We may try it out next term. They entered an art contest sponsored by Jeff's company. We spent a few days during the week collecting discarded plastic bits off the beach to create mosaics and sculptures. As you can see, the kids worked really hard on this one.

We did enjoy the interesting sand sculptures on Horseshoe Bay Beach that afternoon... any guesses what this theme might have been?









September marked the one year anniversary of our family moving to Bermuda. To celebrate, I made home made naan.



I'm just kidding. Bread making is not how I normally commemorate an occasion.

I made naan for the first time in September because it was on my bucket list of culinary things to do (along with cooking a lobster. I don't know if I will ever be able to do that... I shudder thinking about watching a live animal put into a pot of boiling water.)

I was super proud of myself with the bread attempt. Trying it just meant getting over the fear of failure. I've discovered that's pretty much the case when it comes to anything cooking/baking related. If it bombs, so what? I suppose there's a life lesson in there somewhere. Except the lobster thing. That's a whole other level of failure potential there.

There are some logistics to getting the timing of the bread rolled and to the pan. I had Jeff man the grill pan while I shaped and rolled each piece, so that they'd all be made quickly in one batch. But, I think I can figure out how to do this so it's not a two man operation. Jeff suggested building a tandoor oven in the backyard, so all I have to do is slap the bread around on it.

Yeah, that made a lot of sense to me too.

Actually, in all honesty, I celebrated our one year Bermuda anniversary by drinking two glasses of wine on the couch while watching the "Real Housewives of NJ." I got really depressed and argued with my husband.

Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with me either. As I reflect on this year, I've been trying to figure it out. And every time I try to analyze it, I find myself thinking there must be something wrong with me.

The year went by quickly, except when it didn't. And sometimes it really didn't.

Sometimes you get caught up in the perception of what your friends and family think your life is like, and the honesty of what you are struggling with. We're not on perpetual holiday out here, despite all appearances. Yes, it's beautiful - most of the time. Except when it isn't. The people are really nice. Except when they aren't. Or when they're apathetic. Or when they're inefficient. Or when you realize that many of them do not want you here in their country at all. It's odd feeling like an outsider, an interloper.. someone whose presence here is tolerated because their husband's guest worker status.

Some things have been easier to get used to.. I miss work, but I don't miss the two hour long commute. Despite my initial fears, I got used to driving on the left hand side of the narrow, little roads. Although, judging from the left hand side of our car, this might not be totally true. That side has seen its share of scrapes. whoops.

I love having more time with the kids. At this age, they can be amazing. And to have the luxury of staying home with them is a trip. It's such a relief to be able to get to do stuff at school with them. I don't have to feel that torment I used to when work interfered with school trips, class celebrations, or daily volunteering. Part of the reason I volunteer at school is because I get a daily kick out of seeing the kids faces light up when they see me. At recess, or lunch duty, or library time, or reading time - I love that look they get. I also have a sneaking suscpicion that as they get older, it may be different.

Other things, I'm still trying to wrap my head around. I miss my friends back home.. a lot. Really, a lot. I miss the sense of a neighborhood and a community.

Bermudian ex pat life has its charms, make no mistake about it. Being out here, we're surrounded by a handful of others in similar circumstances. It's a good group. We've all made some friends, had fun times. Everyone's been welcoming. We're all in an odd duck sort of place. Not that there is anything wrong with that. In fact, there's something rather amazing about that.. The kids go to school with children who have lived and travelled all over the world. Their perspective is decidedly enhanced by conversations about life in the U.K, or Vancouver.. or Singapore, or New Jersey....

But, it's very transient; and I think people realize that quickly. You might be here for a year or five years ... or Lord help me, thirteen years. Your friends here will come and go. Isn't that true no matter where you live?

But I wonder if part of you doesn't get lost in the process of saying good-bye.

It makes me wonder where home is.

That being said, we survived year one. Yay!