The title of a song I sang in high school choir. Don't remember the writer but it popped into my head as I thought about the changes coming up this year. Well, that and the fact that Jonathan's sitting next to me playing his guitar and singing about watching the tides roll by...and for the record, our apartment does not have a view of the Thames.
I didn't think we'd be returning to the States until at least a year had passed. But after a whirlwind interview process, we found out just a few days ago that Jonathan and I are being flown out to Lodi, CA June 25th-29th. Considering the timing, it's unfortunate that the church isn't located in St. Louis or we could also make it to my friend Becky's wedding (and actually meet her fiance for the first time, which would be nice). But the wedding and the miles between California and our family are seemingly the only downsides to the deal. Jonathan and I are already impressed with the church's attitude towards mission, community, service, worship, and team-based ministry.
We've already been to Lodi since we have friends that live (and lived) there. It's located in the central valley of Northern Cal about 45 minutes from Sacramento and an hour and a half to San Francisco. Our beloved Lake Tahoe is only 2 hours away, fabulous friends in Reno are 3 hours away, Napa is an hour, Yosemite is just up the State, and now we don't have to lament the fact that we didn't manage to fit in a trek on the Pacific Coast Highway when we lived in Reno.
But of course, now that "the end" of our adventure in London is in sight, I have inbetweeny discomfort--the kind of discomfort that Harry Potter feels when he uses the Floo Network and has his head in a fireplace in Hogwarts and the rest of him in the fireplace at the Weasley's. Or the weird squeezy space transportation that squishes Meg into A Wrinkle in Time.
Here? or There? I feel like I just started acclimating (hence my appropriate use of adjectives ending in "y" in the above paragraph, a cutesy British linguistic habit--i.e. squeezy honey, chewy chews, etc.) Most of the time I like it here and I don't want to leave. I love traveling. I love theatre. I love live music. I love English culture. I love my job. But then there are those times when I go out late at night and have to walk to a bus and deal with drunk, swearing Aussie's throwing food wrappers at me for an hour. . . That's when I want to be able to go back to stay out as late as I want and drive myself home, not rely on public transport. But then again, will I be able to afford to drive when I finally go back to the U.S. of A.'s current economic tragedy?
Here? or There? Eventually I'll be ready. But until then, I still have three months to savor Londony.