Home ...

I suspect this is the face I most regularly wear in these days.  I believe it might be a problem-solving kind of expression I'm wearing there.

I made pumpkin soup for lunch today but realised I was missing my small vegetable knife.  I have a brand I particularly like.  I missed my cupboard full of known ingredients.  My kitchen too.  And later I missed my bread and my place at that old oak table I used to adore.

There are hours like this out here in my new life.  Not days or weeks ... just hours.  I really am okay with missing things, mostly.  I began moving house when I was 20, and haven't stopped anywhere longer than that big old Belgian house just left, after something like 6 years.  The previous record ... maybe the airforce house back in New Zealand.  4 years, non-stop, in the same place.

But it's not a desire of mine, to constantly move.  It's just my life. 

My sister has lived differently and I love visiting her when I go back to New Zealand.  She has lived in her home for years now.  I'm not sure how many but if I 'go home' to anyplace, then it's her place.  I love the familiarity I find there - I love her pantry, the smell of the house, but mostly, I love the people that live there.  It's as close as I get to my childhood spaces ... 50 Green Street, the home I grew up in, or Nana's place, at 101 Islington Street.

But mostly, over all these years and moves,  I've learned to make the unfamiliar familiar, as quickly as possible.  The walk to the supermarket is a daily one now.  Starbucks has become 'the place' where I buy my espresso.  The walk there and back has become that time for deep thinking while I exercise.  And I can feel myself getting stronger each day. 

The first day I walked there I thought I was dying.  The second day, I went out again, just to test it, and wondered if it wasn't some kind of anxiety attack.  On the third day I began to feel better.  Mmmhmmm, I might have been completely unfit.  It's much easier now.  Increasing the distance seems like a good idea.  Let's see it.

But mostly I'm spending these days preparing myself for whatever is next. And the photograph ... taken by my lovely Australian client, Gabrielle, at Genova's Douce cafe,  on one of those lovely photography workshop days last summer.

They were beautiful days.  I'm glad that I had them.

Sainsburys ...

I try to keep the wonder-filled child out of sight, quietly hidden inside of myself, when I wander the aisles of Sainsburys in these early days.  I've been 12 years out of the English-speaking world, 12 years far from home and all that is familiar, including the English-influenced food down in New Zealand.

And that's been fine.  I loved so much about Turkey that there was always some thing that would delight and/or surprise me.  There was the food that became favourite food ... the Dil Peyniri, (string cheese) was divine.  I loved every kind of Börek, and İskender kebap was pretty much my idea of heaven.  I loved most of the food I found there.

Then fast-forward to Belgium, and the outdoor Saturday Market was my new place of delight and wonderment for a while.  The cheeses from France, the crusty breads, the olives, the fresh fruit and vegetables ... the market was that place we always meant to go Every Saturday, not just with guests, as it turned out.

I had favourite chocolate shops, of course.  And that restaurant, in Grote Markt, serving good Flemish cruisine was the place where I liked to take friends.

But Sainsburys ... it's kind of like being back home, with foods and ingredients not seen in a long time.  I'm making a Carbonara tonight and had to buy bacon ... but which bacon became the big decision.  Then I found a garlic crusher, on sale, for 2pounds 50 ... just after giving up, imagining they didn't carry them.  I went to buy cheese but ended up with a President Brie, from France.  A brand known to me because there were a million other choices ... choices that read divine but I was overwhelmed by it all and played safe.  This time.

They stock my new breakfast of choice food - Warburtons thin plain bagels.  Lovely with butter and raspberry jam ... or with the President brie, it turns out.

Don't start me on the biscuit and chocolate selections, also so very familiar to me ... and anyway, I'm resisting almost all of them.  But they're there, and I seem to slip back in time when I wander that aisle, remembering those early morning cups of tea at Nana's - with shortbread and similar biscuits to those seen on the shelvesin Sainsburys.

The wine guy is a lovely bloke.  Half Italian, a quarter English and Irish.  He's so passionate about his wines, and knowledgeable, of course.  He was helpful when I found myself bewildered by a whole new selection of reds, all completely unknown to me.  No old friends to be found on those shelves.

And the people ... they've been lovely.  Of course.  It's England.  So far, so good with the people.

There's a Starbucks on site and, much as I can't stand their coffee generally, the espresso is okay when no other espresso is possible.  I'm quite the monster about coffee ...

I had imagined I might give it up over here, without my beloved coffee machine.  And while I was at it, I've been thinking about stepping away from the red wine too however ... perhaps a little bit sometimes is more realistic.  And kinder.

My CV is written.  First draft.  I would definitely get me in for an interview.  Actually I would hire me too :-) 

Today's image is light on a leaf, captured as I made my way to Sainsburys.  As I write this, it's overcast and windy now, with light rain.  Peri the cat is having a crazy moment and flying around the room in pursuit of invisible creatures ...  She makes me smile.

So that's today, so far, in England. And yeah ...I think Sainsburys is kind of fabulous.

The Problem of Writing a Brilliant CV ...

One of the more difficult things about beginning this new life is writing up my CV ... telling the story of me and my work experiences so that people think it a good idea to hire me.

And I want to stay with the truth while remembering that it is about marketing.  Modesty isn't really the way to go ...

So how do I define what I have done these last few years.  How do I present my experience.  And myself.

I'm not sure that I quite fit any pre-defined box but perhaps that's a good thing.

I have a working title for my job description but it's only a working title.

So, with my head broken after a morning of study and much thinking, I wandered off to visit with one of the neighbours - friends of my lovely friends, Kim and Andy. 

What a delightful way to spend a couple of hours!

Diana is one of those wise women, a person I felt I had known a very long time.  And Steve is kindness itself.

I have returned to my work station refilled and replenished.

So yes, it's all about me. 

I photographed their 17th century wall yesterday, in the exquisite Autumn afternoon light ... there's a story to come about it all.  Of patents, inventors and brick-laying inventions.

Surrey ...

A scene from my walk.  It's the path I take to the supermarket.  Autumn's arriving, the afternoon sunlight is truly divine, and the way to the supermarket is pretty in places.