06 May 2019

Jet Lag

Friday 3 May 2019 @ 11:47AM

I remember the first time I experienced jet lag. I was 13 and my family had gone on vacation to Maui.  There is a 4 hour time difference between Maui time and Wisconsin time. I’m a night owl, always have been, but I remember that first night in Maui. I struggled to stay up until Midnight, and then I remember waking up without an alarm at 7 AM. I'd never felt so in sync with a timezone. Traveling west is like that for Jet Lag. Traveling across the Atlantic to Europe is never that easy.
The night before I slept like the dead, only barely registering the front door of the flat closing as Rachael left for work at 7 AM. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was almost noon. It took more effort than I’d like to admit to actually get out of bed and to wander into the kitchen for some coffee. Clicking on the kettle, I padded into the living room. The flat was small enough, where I couldn't really get lost, but nevertheless it was unfamiliar, like visiting a friend's house for the first time. I was having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea that I lived here now, that after years of dreaming, Rachael and I were actually living in the UK together.
Four suitcases dwarfed the sunlit living room. As far as I was concerned it was a minor miracle that all three checked bags actually made it to Glasgow airport the night before. I’d used various articles of clothing as padding to help protect some of the more fragile items. As a result, my clothes were distributed across the three checked bags by type. So all of my underwear and t-shirts were in one bag and all my trousers and socks elsewhere. I’d been a bit afraid that I would arrive in Scotland with nothing but underwear and a set of Christmas ornaments.
Truthfully, I didn’t really know where to begin. So I returned to the kitchen to actually make coffee. In the cabinet, I found a blue coffee mug that Rachael and I had bought on a trip to the island of Westray years ago. She'd left it in Scotland, and I hadn't seen it in years. It's the little things in life, but the memory made me irrationally happy. When I got back to the living room, I set my first suitcase on it’s back and I began pulling things out and making piles.




It had taken all of Tuesday to pack my life down to these cases, but thankfully it wasn’t taking me nearly as long to unpack them. There were only a few casualties. Like the largest of Rachael’s Russian nesting cups.



I think the worst was my Maya Solar calendar. It was hand carved slate, that I’d bought on my second day in Belize back in 2012. But unfortunately it was already on it’s last leg. It had split in half after an accidental fall this past NewYears. Although, I’d glued it back together. The damage was clearly done. The top half was now broken into five additional pieces, and despite how it looks in this photo, it couldn’t be saved.



I worked through most of the early afternoon putting away what I could and organising the rest. My half of the wardrobe desperately needed hangers, and I’d promised Rachael I would run to the post office. So made a point to get out of the house and stretch my legs. I think it took being outside, but walking along the street, seeing the old stone bridges and buildings, it made the move tangible in a way that unpacking my bags simply couldn't.

Our flat is just across the road from the Esk River. Incidentally, this is the same river (just a bit downstream) that runs behind Dalkieth House. Follow the link if you want to read about a harrowing adventure along the river from 2013.  This part of the river is largely devoid of treasure, but there is a lovely grassy park that runs along the bank.


It's good to be home.

Until next time,
Anth

19 March 2019

New Beginnings

19th March 2019

Hiya Everyone. It's been a long time.

If blogs could collect dust, let's just say we'd all be sneezing just looking at this thing. I mean I don't think people even use blogspot anymore. Next thing you know, I'll be suggesting we all move back to MySpace.

Okay, well that's not going to happen, but I have been giving this some serious thought. Honestly it feels right to come back to this blog for a number of reasons.

The origin of this blog, some of you may remember, came in the form of a wordy (and poorly edited) mass email that I sent out approximately once a week. That was way back in 2013 (Six years ago exactly), while I was on my first trip to Scotland.

As the Facebook link that probably brought you here also said, Rachael and I are moving back to Scotland, this time for good. She's there now, getting settled into our new flat. It's a beautiful little place in downtown Musselburgh, right alongside the Esk River (It has mixed taps!). On the 1st of May, I'm going to board a plane from Chicago to join her.

This is the front door leading up to our Flat. 
Please come in (at least metaphorically) 

So in today's blog post, I would like to tell you how we got here, and then maybe wrap up by telling you what my plans are for this blog going forward.

It all started early October of 2018. Rachael and I were wandering around Lawrence University, sipping on to go coffees from a favourite cafe. We were in Appleton to meet up with our friends Rose and Justin for a game night, but we'd had a bit of extra time to kill before they expected us to arrive.

The thing is, universities make me sad. Maybe that's stupid, but I miss school. Sure, I can be a functioning adult with a regular work ethic, but I miss university. I miss lectures, and research papers, and even freaking group projects. It's like a part of me is missing without those things, without something to strive for. I need something to discover, to learn.

At the time, the plan was to stay here in Wisconsin for another five or so years. Rachael would go through nursing school, and then she'd be able to move back to Scotland and get a job that met the minimum income requirements to bring me there too. That was the plan, but neither of us were happy with it. So that night in early October we began hatching a better plan. Ireland.

However, there were some problems to our our original plan that we hadn't foreseen. Maybe we should have known better, but we didn't realise our mistake until after Rachael had left the US. Dublin was too expensive and is presently undergoing a massive influx of people leaving the UK due to uncertainty over Brexit. Life has a funny way of taking you where you need to go. I think some part of me always knew we'd end up in Scotland. The only trouble was, we had to find a way to make things work in the UK with it's stricter immigration laws.

The set back was tough. It took us months to figure out the right path, and we didn't have a lot of time. Part of the problem with moving to the UK is that I will likely have to spend 5-7 months unemployed just due to our timing. Our original plan had been to go to Ireland, and the dates of our flights reflected that plan. Now I was going to have to come up with something to do with my time while Rachael worked.

For me, the answer was Crete, more specifically the Mochlos Archaeological Project. So we worked on our resumes, and we had interviews, and mostly we waited. I think that was the worst part. Everything rested on Rachael getting this job, and me being accepted into the project.

And then two weeks ago, everything fell into place. Rachael got a job at a care home outside Musselburgh on Tuesday. On Wednesday, I was accepted for the 2019 team at Mochlos. That night we looked at flats in the area, and we found one we really loved. Rachael scheduled an appointment to see it on Friday, and by Saturday we had our flat.

So I want to talk a little bit about this blog, and what I would like to do with it.
The truth is, I'm leaving. I'm leaving, and although I will come back to visit, I don't plan to come back to stay. Most of you reading this are probably my family and friends who care about me, and who want to know what I'm doing. This is the best way I know how to reach out.

It's my plan to release a new one of these every week or so, not that I expect anyone to read them all. There will be photos, and I will try to keep my stories interesting (even if I'm knee deep in Bronze Age pottery shards). Also, I plan to keep my Instagram fairly active so you should be able to find more photos there.

Now, I know all of this feels a bit one sided. So I want to hear about you too. Send me an email, message me on Facebook, or hire a carrier pigeon. I want to hear about your lives. The distance is going to be hard. Keep me posted, and I'll do my best to do the same.

All the best,

Anth