homesick

We have started planning for Thanksgiving next week. The US contingent in the village, all four of us, have decided to have a proper turkey-and-all-the-trimmings meal. R. is doing the turkey, and I have been assigned potatoes, so I'll be making PA Dutch potato filling, which is oh so yummy. Big Jim, although not American, embraces the Thanksgiving meal although perhaps not all of the history behind it, which is understandable. He's going to do something with the fresh cranberries he smuggled back from Holland. The upcoming holiday season is evoking strong waves of homesickness for me. The most disappointing aspect of the job debacle for me has been that we have had to postpone our visit to the US. I was so looking forward to seeing my friends and family, some of whom I haven't seen for a couple years. When I have the homesick bug, I find myself asking why it is that Big Jim and I are so far away from the people we've known and loved the longest. This time, I am finding the answers difficult to come by. I've had this happen before, so I know that it is part of the process and not the time to make any dramatic decisions. The last time "the doubts" surfaced was about 15 months ago. I went as far as signing up with a headhunter in New York to start looking for jobs there for me. Almost immediately afterward, my grandmother became seriously ill, and I had to make an emergency trip to the US. Two and a half weeks later, as I stood in line for my return flight to Spain, I had compiled more than enough reasons to stick it out here. Today I have started another pro/con list. So far, the list is pretty even, but then as I said, I have just started. Intellectually I realize the nostalgia I currently have for my life before Spain is a reaction to the roller-coaster circumstances Big Jim and I are dealing with, but I also believe the list exercise is important to get my emotional side on the same page. Or not. Perhaps not everything is to be intellectualized. We'll see. It is times like these that I wish Harry's Occult Shop in Philadelphia made housecalls. Harry's wasn't a black magic-y place; rather, it was all positive, good witchy based. I can't remember what made me go there the first time, perhaps just curiosity. However, when faced with a couple of existential crises, I went in for a consultation. You would step up to an open-window booth and tell the man/Harry what was troubling you. Within 30 seconds, this guy could pinpoint the true origin of the dilemma and prescribe a curative regimen. It was astounding, truly, and far more economical than six months of therapy. I would walk out with a bunch of candles, some specially made-up potions/bathoils that smelled like cheap drugstore perfume, and a hand-written list of instructions for their application. All skepticism aside, his perceptions were spot on, and I've got to tell you, his shop was packed with other believers every time I went in. Must check to see whether he does phone consultations.... My postings may be slightly irregular in the next few days. My tendinitis in my left arm is acting up, so I have to watch my time at the keyboard and be sure to take frequent breaks, etc. I also don't want to use the blog as a place just for whinging, which I have been prone to recently. There is a blog that I read regularly written by another American expat. I came across it some time ago, and I thought it would be interesting to read another woman's thoughts on her expat experiences. Her constant fretting, however, made my blood boil, and I was often tempted to shoot off an e-mail telling her so. Wisely, I think, I never did. I can't stop reading her posts though....I suppose it is the blog equivalent of rubbernecking through the scene of a car wreck. Okie doke, will post photos soon. Just been too busy with work to read the camera manual, but will make time later this week. Really. :-) hasta pronto, mylifeinspain