The weather wasn’t so great today. The brilliant blue sky had been replaced with grey and clouds bursting with the promise of rain. She had, as usual, packed for an entirely different outcome and not for this cold and was annoyed at herself. She should have known better than to believe the weather forecasts – this was England after all.
She was no longer acclimated to this cold. It felt like a winter day to her and her clothing was woefully inadequate. She walked faster trying to get the blood pumping, cuddling into the warmth of her husband beside her. Wondering how she ever used to survive here, bundled up in a cocoon of layers to beat the cold.
Coffee was required this morning and the short walk in to town was necessary, both for the injection of a caffeine shot, the first in many days, as well as ensuring her routine of a morning walk was not broken. It was still early and unlike her home where coffee addicts had their fix as early as 6am from their local cafe, with beans sourced from local beanaries, roasted and ground on site, nothing here was open yet bar a very mediocre franchise chain “coffee” shop. She used the term loosely – coffee would not be the same here and she knew it but they ordered – their usual lattes – and hoped for the best. It certainly was not the best but it was enough to kickstart their morning.
It was the first day of the football league today … the boys in the household were planning a stay at home day in front of the tv with three games at least to watch, the oldest just as excited of the prospect as the youngest football mad boy. She shuddered and recoiled violently against the thought knowing also that her husband would not be hers today. The girls had planned a shopping trip instead and she was looking forward to it, hoping for some bargains to fill the specially designed gap in her suitcase, a summer sale convenient for her Southern Hemisphere seasonal wardrobe.
It was a short trip to where she used to live, many years ago in a different life, where she caught glimpses of memories of a girl she once was as they drove through the villages and streets en route to Swindon Outlet.
She couldn’t quite align her “now” with that “then”. She was so young then and Swindon was a big city to her and so different from anything she had ever experienced. It was an adventure. She had loved her short time here – she had immersed herself into a nightlife of clubs and parties and had made good friends. It was when she had to leave to return home to the other side of the world that she knew England was in her blood and she belonged here. She didn’t know then that she would return many times, live here and eventually meet the man of her dreams here.
The trip had evoked memories of a more recent matter also, the girls giggling with glee over the antics of the day before. Learning to “floss” and the great “worm off” dance competition had made her laugh harder than she could remember, even if one of the party now was feeling a little less than perfect as a result. She felt a little smug that this time it was not her. She loved these girls and the time they spent together … his family but now also hers.
It was his family that they were here to see. A family that had, over the years, become her own. Children and now grandchildren that she could not imagine not having in her life. This trip after all was all about reattaching those family bonds and immersing themselves in their lives even if briefly.
She was now exhausted … her earlier smugness about beating the jet lag had disappeared as she fought the urge once more to head upstairs to bed at 6pm. The cacophony of excited sugar filled children wasn’t helping but this was part of that immersion and one she secretly loved, for all her quiet complaining.
The She Diaries 
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