Random ramblings from the Texan in London.

As it's Thanksgiving, I feel that I should make the traditional list of the things in my life for which I'm most grateful... 1. I have a great life, and that's down entirely to Himself. I didn't make the right choices when I was younger, treated school as a joke, bounced from job to job for years, thought "savings" was a nonsense word... you get my gist. Himself did it all the right way, put himself through university and started saving to emigrate to Australia, wisely chose to reallocate that fund to buy Yours Truly a seriously nice engagement ring (yes, yes, Himself, I can see you rolling your eyes from here, and please return your left eyebrow to its resting position!), got a great job, kept saving, went freelance, kept saving, and now we have a beautiful house in which to throw parties and have houseguests. *grin* He's smart, funny, dependable, and let's face it gals, he's pretty hot. So, I'm thankful for Himself. 2. I finally have a...

I wrote this on Friday, and for honesty's sake (and because I actually find it pretty funny, especially because the EXACT same thing happened to mi madre in the same circumstances) I'm posting it now. "I'm sitting in my soon-to-be sewing room in a plaid shirt and jeans, tools spread around me, in tears. I miss my Granddaddy. He should be here, helping me put this desk together. He should have been here to help us pick the neighbourhood in which to settle, and to call when the offer was accepted on the one house that most mirrors the one he built my grandmother and that I grew up in. I'm sad, and I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for moving away and missing the last four years of his life. I'm angry that my situation in the UK kept me from seeing him when he decided to stop taking the pills that were keeping him alive, and I'm angry that the same situation kept me from being at his funeral. I'm sad that he died before he could walk me down th...

Mr. and Mrs. Gabs have relocated to Uxbridge! That's right, boys and girls, we've acquired a real home. Not a rented room, not even a rented several rooms. We now own a terraced house with three bedrooms! I say three bedrooms... the smallest of the three has been immediately allocated to yours truly and my burgeoning supply of fabrics and craft materials. Finally, "gabymade" will have a permanent base from which to lovingly fashion pretties for sale on Etsy. Believe you me, you'll hear about it when we go live. So, the house. Not even half a mile from the station, the walk from the city centre takes you past a ridiculously beautiful medieval church and down a charmingly reallocated parade of shops (think white plaster with black wood frames, which can be fairly amusing when it's a sex shop currently in residence) and through a park, complete with its own river and aquatic avians. The local swan mafia makes rather a lot of noise making sure everyone know...