my roots

I'm off to South Africa in less than three weeks. I'm gonna miss my roots. As much as I rant and moan about England, really, it isn't all bad. The obvious benefits are much loved family and friends. But there is the shared cultural history, the particular set of codes Londoners define the way they move around the city, the shared sense of humour and common understanding of sarcasm.

This drives me slightly batty after prolonged periods abroad when I just need to speak to an English person to have a conversation with a shared language, shared cultural history and a deep understanding of sarcasm - the lowest form of wit apparently, but it works for me and I miss it when people just don't get it.

I'll miss four seasons (not Vivaldi - already on my iPod) but our very own, very temperate climate moving gently from summer to autumn, to winter, to spring and back to our usually slightly disappointing summer. Although I have to say that this summer was pretty good by our standards. 

Now the leaves are starting to turn, the air is crisper and I can feel winter coming in the air. In three weeks time my body will be rudely assaulted by sunshine and humidity confusing my poor English-ness. Not that I'm complaining all that much. I'm going into summer when here it's gonna get to the point where it's so cold and miserable, people will use the weather as an excuse not to go out. Like I do. I seriously dislike being cold. But I'll miss the spring blossoms. One road in my area erupts into pink and white blossoms - new life on old trees showing off and rightly proud. Sometimes I'll take a drive down it because it is just so pretty. Even when it's out of my way. 

So yeh. When I'm overseas I miss my family. I miss my friends. I miss my country. I miss my people. I miss weird things like cheese platters. Even though I rarely eat cheese on platters, but I do eat a lot of cheese. I miss loads. But I'm still going.