A New Jersey Bean

Shelley had a little boy! Oscar; he arrived early Wednesday morning and were lucky to get to go see him in hospital that afternoon. Lucky, because he's been in the Special Care Unit since then and the only other family besides parents allowed to visit is grandparents! He should be out of the unit tomorrow (he has some kind of infection); but he and Shelley have to stay in hospital until Monday.

Papa D (James's dad) went mad with his camera (are we surprised?!) and took a good stack of photos yesterday morning and got them printed immediately... Granny Moira bought Mothercare out of all blue newborn clothes just a few hours after Oscar entered the world, and Uncles Lew and Jamesy conferred on how long it'll be before Baby Bean joins the 'men' at the rugby on Saturdays.

And in other news... A beautiful, sunny day; we went for a quick walk when we got home from work this evening and realised again how happy we are that we're only moving up the road.

Welcome Baaaaaaby

No, not ours.

James's sister, Shelley, is in labour as I type! In fact, she might be a mum by now... She went into labour at 6am this morning, but didn't go to hospital until about 7 this evening as they'd been hoping for a home birth. Unfortunately she had to change the plan -- everything's fine though -- and we're waiting to hear the news! Any minute! Today is her actual due date, so it might just be a very punctual baby. Expecting to get a text/phone call any time but could be in the early hours of tomorrow morning of course...

Other news? We've been busy; thank goodness the days are much longer now so it feels like we've got a bit more time. We move the weekend after next -- can't wait to leave 'the cave' (this place was fine in the winter but now that the weather's getting better we've really noticed how cold and dark it is! Ugh!).

For anyone interested in Google-Earthing our new abode, try La Rue Voisin, Portelet. Not far from where we are at present -- and just happens to be right next to yet another lovely old pub... Not quite as close as we are now though.

I've started running (or 'trotting' as my colleague calls it... because we run like pigs -- very inelegantly) with a friend from work during our lunch hours; only half an hour or so but that's enough to get me warmed up! Hooray -- it must be good for us because I've lost half a stone (don't convert it, it'll be far less impressive) and we've only been doing it a few weeks. She's adamant that we'll be fit enough to run a half marathon at the end of the summer... watch this space.

We've been invited to help 'plant' a church with a colleague of James's and his wife! Never thought that would happen in Jersey... We met with them and a few other people last weekend and it was great -- they (James's colleague and his wife) have started four churches in the past, all of which I believe are still going strong -- all in Africa. They're from Zimbabwe but most recently lived in South Africa and moved here at exactly the same time we did! Weirdly, so did the three other people (two Zimbabweans and a girl from the Bahamas)! The new church is already somewhat underway; just looking for a semi-permanent venue and a band! Really we'd be happy if we could bring Christ Community here of course, but this is also pretty exciting. And so way beyond anything we'd ever imagined being part of so we'll see what happens... Last week James and I went to a lunchtime session called 'Business Connect' at a church in town; it was great and so interesting. There's a different speaker and lesson every week and it's a chance to network a bit over lunch (provided) and some pretty deep questions!

Work is going well; my job just seems to get better and better -- I am so grateful for it! It seems like that was the one thing missing when we lived in the US and so I'm really making the most of it now. It's such a great learning opportunity and I'm taking advantage of every course, seminar and training opportunity I possibly can! I'm even learning a tiny bit of HTML... emphasis on tiny... (Obviously not enough to fix the layout and formatting of this blog, grrr).

James and I are both off to Edinburgh, Scotland, in the first weekend of June. It's my Granny's 96th birthday, our good friends' Rob and Raphi's wedding (James is organising Rob's stag do...), and my folks arrive the same weekend, too. Can't wait!

So a busy few weeks ahead -- and in the meantime we still don't know if we're aunty and uncle yet!

Checkin' In

Still here...

An update in less than twenty words: James started new job (enjoying); moving again (yay!); weather improving (yee-HA); Liberation Day this weekend -- should be interesting.

Funny story...? We've been bargain hunting for furniture for the new place and have been using the Jersey version of Craigslist a bit. For some reason I've landed the job of Chief Coordinator (i.e. call, arrange viewing time, schedule pickup...).

So.

The funny story? There is a funny story, but I can hardly keep my eyes open... I'm going to have to post a Part Two.

... To Be Continued ...

Spring Weekend

We both took off early from work on Friday -- yay for flexi-time! -- so that we could enjoy the late afternoon sun. Our beach down at Ouaisne was busy; the tide was out and plenty of people were out for a stroll. Women in bikinis, even!

I'm so glad we did get to enjoy the weather, because although the weekend was supposed to be even better, it totally wasn't! Anyway, no complaints because Friday evening was lovely. We set out off across the bay to St Brelade, to have dinner at the Crab Shack (mmm, yummiest crab cakes!) before walking up to James's parents' house.

Here is Ouaisne bay as we set out; judging by all the tracks in the sand, it must have been a busy day for boats, too:

Here's a special kind of sandcastle. I guess some kind of little worm makes them; there're usually hundreds all across the beach and on Friday they were even bigger than usual -- about as big as your fist.

And here we are; there's the Martello Tower in the background:

James decided to take a photo through my sunglasses:

And there goes the ferry to England! It's much bigger than the one we took to France:

Outside the Crab Shack, looking back towards Ouaisne (as far in the distance as you can see):

James tried some artsy photography; I thought it turned out pretty good!

Oh! These are our next-door-neighbours. Locals at the Smugglers (imagine James sitting at that bar when he was six -- probably with those same men!):

And here is our friend and Smugglers' barman, Stretch. He's only slightly taller than James at 6 feet, 3 inches... (plus another 2 inches for the hair?) He has to duck his head to get through all the doorways in the Smugglers:

This, from our wonderful local paper today (in the ACCOMMODATION WANTED section):

Retired lady, non-smoking and retired cat, need one bedroom flat, ground floor, town area, reasonable rent.

Love it! I wonder what line of work the cat was in before it retired, and whether it has a good pension.

Congratulations on your engagement!

Wish we were there with you and the rest of the Dog Group, Katie, so we could celebrate with you!

Hair of the Dog

James is going to regale you with tales of our travels in France; so I won't mention the Fr-word again and I'll stick to an entirely different topic... I'm thinking dog hair.

It seems that the longer we're away from America, the more intense the homesickness (not quite the right word) is becoming... and the odder the things that trigger those feelings! Take the dog hair. It was so annoying to find a black Remy-hair on a clean white shirt (according to James) or stuck fast between the S and the D keys on my laptop. Let's not mention the rogue hairs that collected in really gross places like the bottom shelf in the freezer door or under the soap dish in the spare bathroom... Yeah, let's not.

Instead, let's talk about poo-bags. (Because British people don't say 'poop.') It was so frustrating to find those scrunched-up little pink bags in every single pocket of every single jacket, bag or pair of jeans I owned. We'd go to Vegas and so would sixty-six (new) poo-bags -- one in every handbag, backpack, jeans pocket, plus fifty more in the boot/trunk of the car. Someone would open a car door at the side of the road on the way to Estes, and a gazillion little pink bags would float out into the wilderness. We'd find them stuffed down behind the washing machine, folded into tiny squares and stuck under the coin dish, tied to our keyrings. Everywhere.

Now I can actually get sentimental over a scrumpled-up (clean) poo-bag -- one that mysteriously ends up on a dressing table in a hotel room in France. Or a Remy-hair inside a shoe; a pair I bought in London only three weeks ago. I miss that dog, but I suspect I'm focusing all my homesickness and missing-ness (missickness?) on him, in an effort of wimpy self-preservation. Gosh, if I can cry at the sight of a (unused) poo-bag, imagine what else might set me off...

We are happy here; I'm happy here. I'm so very grateful for a job I really love and have learned so much from already, and the most incredible scenery right on our doorstep. I just miss the poo-bags; the nasty little dog hairs; our church; our friends; more incredible scenery; the best dog in the world... and not neccesarily in that order!

***A little disclaimer: all bags that escaped with the wind were dutifully chased after and stuffed back into the car -- or a pocket, or a bag. Perhaps that's why they were so very everywhere. ***

Creatures of the Night

A couple of nights ago James jumped out of bed at about 3am, and couldn't find the light switch. That was the first clue that he was still half asleep -- he was searching all over the wall for the switch, which is actually on a different wall... I asked him what he was doing, and he just got madder. When I finally managed to tell him where it was, he turned the light on, then off, and got back into bed... I asked him what was wrong, and he grumpily told me "nothing." So, the next morning I reminded him about it and he explained that he had "woken up" to see a lobster (!?!) crawl out from under my pillow and head towards his. It wasn't until he turned the light on that he'd realised he'd been dreaming it. The funny thing... the lobster was RED! Cooked and ready to eat! (But according to James, still really scary...)

We didn't end up doing anything this weekend that we'd planned to do -- in fact, we didn't even Hash today. Yesterday we went to Ho8 -- the underground hospital -- which is a museum now but was built by slave labour during the German Occupation for use as a hospital. In the end it was never used for its intended purpose. You follow an exhibit that winds through the tunnels (no tour guides; just wander along by yourself -- in parts it's pretty creepy!) and it's all set out in chronological order, starting with an overview of the war, and then the Occupation itself (which lasted five years), right through to Liberation Day and beyond. Definitely was worth a visit, and although James had been before, he found it really interesting, too.

And today... not much. We watched the Grand Prix this morning until it was rained off, and this afternoon went to James's parents for Sunday lunch. So now I am full and sleepy, and need a nap.