Departure and Arrival

So now that you know we are here, I can tell you a bit about the trip!  Our flight was scheduled to leave at 8:40 pm on Tuesday, 18 September.  We arrived at the airport at around 6:00 pm, and said goodbye to my parents at the curb.  We had already checked in online, so all that needed to be done was check our big bags, of which we had five.  That was mostly painless, and we made our way to security, which was a bit stressful, because we each had a rolling bag and a secondary bag (backpack, laptop bag, etc.)  Getting a family of four through security is not a cake walk!

Waiting in the Houston airport to board the plane! Please excuse my appearance!

After this, we could breathe for a while.  We found a spot to chill out and charge our cell phones, and realized that we would probably be bored for a while.  The flight was delayed at least 30 minutes (but I am pretty sure it ended up being a bit longer than that).  We met a nice couple from College Station that was going to Portugal (via London) for their one-year anniversary; they were fooled by our kids’ British accents–we had passed them earlier in the terminal and Will was speaking loudly–they thought we were British folks who’d picked up a cowboy hat as a souvenir for our son! Ha!

Finally it was time to board the plane.  We thought they would board people with kids first, but they didn’t.  Boo.  The plane was fairly comfortable, until I tried to go to sleep.  Then it became quite uncomfortable.  I really wish I could have been up in first class in those beds.  That would have been nice.  But they did offer lots of movies to choose from, and the food was actually pretty tasty.

Scott and Will just before landing in London.

Claire and I just before landing.

London out the plane window!

We landed in London at Heathrow airport at 12:00 pm local time, 6:00 am Texas time.  The only one of our family who got any real sleep was Claire.  We were all pretty tired and I know Scott and I were ready for a shower!  Unfortunately, it was time to go through immigration.  That process took about 2 hours, and we were finally through the border at around 2:00 pm.  We exchanged some currency and then picked up our luggage on the baggage carousel.  That made our total number of bags to haul around a whopping 13.  Thirteen!!!  We quickly found a place to park all our stuff and began deciding what it was we were going to do next.  We knew we had to get ourselves to Oxford, but how?

Letting all of y’all know that we made it!!

We decided to take the Airline bus to Oxford, which turned out to be great.  Not near as expensive as the train, and pretty comfortable and peaceful.  We got into Oxford right around 5:00 pm, right at a high traffic time of day.  It was fun to watch the hustle and bustle of the city, and to see for the first time the beautiful old buildings of the City Centre.  The bus took us to the Gloucester Green bus station, and then again, here we were with 13 bags and 2 little kids.

The 13 Bags!! Actually, I don’t think all of them are even in this picture!

Scott decided to take another bus to the hotel we were staying in for the first night.  We had to ask the bus driver permission to load the bus with our bags, because local buses do not usually carry luggage; thankfully, he agreed to take us where we needed to go.  Now, the hotel was about a block and a half away from where we were to be let off.  Again, thankfully, there were a couple of gentlemen on the bus who were willing to help us get the luggage off quickly.  Then came the really interesting part…how were we to get 13 pieces of luggage down the street?  At a high traffic time of day on one of Oxford’s busiest streets?  With two little kids?  Scott ran down to the hotel with as much luggage as he could carry and I was left on the street with the remaining bags and the children.  I began pushing the bags down the street pseudo-leap-frog style.  I’m sure there were 100+ Oxonians looking at me thinking, “that woman is INSANE!”  Well, I certainly felt like it.  I haven’t been that embarrassed in quite some time.  Thankfully, Scott was back relatively quickly with a woman from the hotel who had graciously offered to help us get the rest of the bags down to the hotel.

I have never been so glad to be at a hotel.  I was soooo ready to take a shower and rest.  That night we walked a few blocks to the nearby Summertown shops and picked up a few groceries to have our first English meal together.  And guess what??  We found peanut butter!!!  WOO HOO!!!  That will make life easier 🙂

Some of our groceries. Notice the “Scottish Strawberries!”

The Epic Tale of the Visas

When we finally got home from Florida after that horrifyingly long drive (did I mention that it poured buckets of rain on us for the last hour and a half?), I put signs on the doors that said something like, “UPS Person, We drove ALL NIGHT to get this package.  If we do not answer the door on the first try, please wait!  Thank you!!!” Then I fell into bed and didn’t wake up again until I heard the slam of the metal gate right outside our bedroom window.  Scott got up and met the guy at the door.  Yay!  Our package was received.  But what did it say inside?

Inside this package was decision of the UK Border Agency on whether or not we would be allowed in the country.  Inside this package was our reason to rejoice or to dread.

I am going to back up a bit, in case I failed to cover this in previous posts…the kids and I applied for General Visitor’s Visas, which grant you “leave to enter” the UK for a period of up to six months.  We would not be allowed to come in under Scott’s Student Visa because his course of study is less than 12 months for this first year.  If his course had been 12 months instead of 9, we would have been included, no problem.  Unfortunately, this is not the case.  It is a problem that is new to the University as the law concerning this came into effect in the last year or so, and this is the first term it would be affecting families such as ours.  So we are guinea pigs.  So, in effect, we were asking to enter the country strictly as visitors, not planning to reside, work, or go to school here, and planning to leave the country when our time has expired.

The package contained both good and bad news.  Scott’s visa was granted, as it should have been, and a neat little visa was put into his passport.  The kids and I, on the other hand, were denied entry.  They had two reasons for this denial.  The first was that because we had written in our application that “we” were going to be looking for a flat, instead of “my husband is going to be looking for a flat,” it seemed as though I was trying to set up residence in the UK.  Hmm.  The second reason was that since our kids are school age, it appeared that we may be trying to enter them into school here, which would not be acceptable as visitors, because we would be using public funds.

To say that this news was distressing would be the world’s biggest understatement.  This came five days before we were set to fly out.  What could we possibly do in five days??

Immediately I began thinking that my worst fears had been confirmed, that Scott would be going alone to the UK, and I would be left in the US alone with the kids.  Yes, I have a place to stay at my parents’ house, but for nine months without my husband, their father?  And what about school—they already missed almost a month of instruction if I send them public school, and I don’t see how I can home-school them and not work.

We had already paid for our flights (mistake!!), so if we didn’t go, we would lose almost $1500 (tickets were non-transferable and non-refundable).  If we did go, we might be denied entry and have to pay about $2000 more to return home.  Now that we had a “denial” on our record, there was a good chance we would not be allowed entry.  What to do?

The next few days that were supposed to be my last hurrah spent with family and close friends were instead mostly terrible.  Don’t get me wrong, I had some good moments…playing Apples to Apples with my parents, brother and sister-in-law, eating delicious green-chile enchiladas and catching up with my “second parents” Ruth Anne and Dick, and getting a pedicure with my mom, grandma and Claire come to mind 🙂  However, the pit in my stomach of worry would not go away completely, and I played out so many different scenarios in my mind that it like to drove me crazy.  We had to discuss and re-discuss all of our options many times and with many different people.  We talked to all the world travelers we knew to get their advice on our situation.  Most of the advice was optimistic, but cautious.  “Well, I think you should be able to go, but I can’t give you a definitive answer…” was mostly what was heard.  We appreciated everyone’s input and it did help us to make a final decision on the matter.  However, we ultimately called an immigration advisor in the UK to give us a professional opinion.

We talked to a nice young woman who sounded a LOT like Joanne Froggatt (Anna) from Downton Abbey, by the way.  She was very helpful and suggested bringing along some documentation we hadn’t thought of.  Basically, we had to ensure that we would leave the UK within 6 months if we were to be granted leave to enter.  The documentaion that she suggested is probably what helped our case the most in the long run.  So, I am very very glad we decided to call.

As you all know, we are here in the UK, so we made it through the border, with only our egos bruised.

Side note:  If anyone is reading this who is in a similar situation, I DO NOT suggest you follow the same path.  We almost didn’t get through, and I would hate to think that anyone followed my specific example and failed to be granted entry.  Make sure you have ALL your documentation sorted out before you apply for your visa.  If you are only planning on being in the UK for 6 months or less and you are an American citizen, you do not need a visa–your passport and proof that you will leave should be enough to get you through the border.  This is where I made my mistake.  Because of these new immigration laws, we were thoroughly confused and ended up applying for a visa when there was actually no need for it.

Amazingly, if I hadn’t applied for a visa, I would have been turned away at the border anyway, because I wouldn’t have had the proof I needed to show I intended to leave the UK.  So ultimately, everything worked out as it should have–God had a plan in it from the beginning.

Tuesday, September 18th, no one in my family got much sleep.  I was up almost all night on the plane, fitfully trying to find a comfortable spot, and in Texas, my mother was tossing and turning in her bed.  Both of us spent the night in prayer…prayer for our family’s safe entry into the UK, and prayer for a woman we had never met.  As Mom said, “I’ve never prayed so hard for someone I’ve never met as I did for that border agent.”  Our prayers were answered.  We are here!

Farewell Tour, Part III: Florida

Before I begin, I would like to apologize for my long absence from the blog!  I am going to pick up where I left off, and will hopefully be posting several “articles” very soon about the events of the last few days, so be sure to check back!  Also, to reduce the amount of time I’m using the internet, I’m writing this in a separate Word document; so I’m sorry if I end up repeating myself!

Scott, Harvey (my father-in-law), and the kids returned from their canoe trip on Blackwater River with many stories to tell me.  There was a leak in the boat!   The kids had fun baling the water out with their squirt guns, but I think the men liked it much less, seeing as they had to dump the boat three times in all!  Nevertheless, a good time was had by all.  They came back wet and filthy, so that is a sure sign!

Claire, Scott, Will and Harvey before the canoeing adventure

After my massage on Tuesday, I felt a lot better.  Then on Wednesday, I was given a laser treatment that made me feel almost normal again!  Hooray!  Therefore, we made our way to Navarre Beach on Wednesday afternoon.  It wasn’t the most beautiful day to be on the beach, but we still had a great time.  The sky was overcast and the waves were very choppy; the sand was beautiful and white, and seashells were abundant.  The kids had a great time playing in the waves and in the sand.  We built a sandcastle and buried them in the sand.  Another good day. 

We finished Wednesday with a delicious meal at Scott’s grandparents house.  Grandma Avis is a great cook, and there is always plenty to go around!  After dinner, we went to church at the Bagdad Church of Christ, where they have always attended.  Scott’s parents were married there.

Scott with Grandpa Harvey and Grandma Avis

Wednesday evening and Thursday we were able to visit with Scott’s brother, Trey, who came down from Alabama.  We haven’t seen him in a long time, so it was really nice to see and talk with him in person.  Unfortunately, Thursday was our last day in Florida, so we couldn’t sit and visit as long as we liked, but we did get to hear some great stories from Grandma Avis before we left!  Uncle Trey has evidence on his iPhone—gotta love that video feature 😉

Uncle Trey showing the kids how to use the iPad

Our plan on Thursday was to leave Florida, drive part of the way to Texas, stop for the night at a hotel, and resume the trip on Friday.  Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men…

As we were leaving Florida, we got a voicemail from my mom saying that a package from the British Consulate in New York had come to the house in Canyon Lake from UPS, but it required a signature, so they could not leave it with the neighbor.  We called UPS, and they could either hold the package in San Antonio (which an hour away at the least), or we could try to get home in time to receive the package from the driver.  Now, at this point it is 5:30 pm.  This is a very important package.  So we decide to drive all night to get the package.  We pulled into the driveway at Canyon Lake at 4:45 am.  That was a LONG drive.

To be continued…

Farewell Tour, Part II: On Ice!

I have absolutely loved seeing so many loved ones over the last couple of weeks, but if you follow me on Facebook, then you know I’ve also had a terrible, horrible, no-good crick in my neck and back for almost the entire time.  It all started in Georgetown, the first leg of my journey, where I was reuniting with my college pals, Jen and Chelsey for our annual Labor Day weekend together.  This was our 11th year, and it came at just the right time.

It is funny how God brings certain people into your life without you even realizing it until much later.  Chelsey and I started at Lubbock Christian University together in the fall of 1997.  We were in the same freshman orientation group, along with some of my other dear friends from college.  We hung out a bit at the beginning of college, and all throughout were friends, but never really ran in the same circles.  Jen came the next year, and again, we were friends and in chorus together, but had different sets of friends that we hung out with most of the time.  But my senior year of college, I took an American Literature class and Chelsey was in the class, too.  It was like we re-discovered our friendship over the works of Hemingway, Faulkner, and Wolfe.  We shared notes and watched extra credit movies together.  This led to our first Labor Day weekend adventure where I believe we got together to watch Ethan Fromm.  Jen was at the “LOA House” (several girls from the social club LOA shared an on-campus apartment) as well for Labor Day weekend fun, and our trio was born.  We would later title our friendship Anmchara, which means “friend of my soul” in Gaelic.  We are all lovers of all things Scottish and Irish, and the word describes us perfectly.

This year, we met in Georgetown, Jen’s new home.  We had great fun doing a photo shoot together, doing a bit of shopping, and of course, talking, laughing, and more talking.  This year, as we said goodbye, more tears flowed than usual.  We wouldn’t be separated by a few hundred miles in Texas, but by thousands of miles across the Atlantic Ocean.  I love these two ladies as if they were my sisters, and I am so very glad they are my anmcharas.

After Georgetown, I went on to Canyon Lake and then San Antonio to see my grandmother.  My time there was also tainted by the neck crick.  All day Wednesday, I was pretty much out of commission, which really stunk.  I tried heat earlier in the day, but it didn’t help.  My uncle was passing through to hunt dove and told Scott that I needed to use ice.  So we found a bag of frozen peas and that became my new buddy for the next couple of days. Despite the pain, I was still able to have a good visit with my grandmother and cousins.

Friday took us to Houston and we had an awesome Mexican food dinner with our dear friends, the Hoskins.  Tracey has the ability to put the most special touches on everything she does, and thought to put she and Sam’s passports on the table for us to peruse.  Wow, has Sam been to a lot of places…his passport is three times the normal size!  And they shared their foreign money collection with us, so we got to look at and touch different currency from all over the world.  Sam made the kids’ night when he gave them some special coins from his collection. Tracey, if you have the pictures you took that night, email them to me and I’ll include them here! 😉

Saturday was my grandparents’ birthday party at my great-aunt Ruthie’s house.  We had a good time catching up with my family over yummy hors d’oeuvres  and birthday cake.  My neck was still bothering me and I let my great-uncle Leland pop it for me (he went to chiropractor school, so I trust him).  Alas, when I woke up Sunday morning, it was still hurting.  Sunday was the ten hour drive to Florida, and that certainly did not help the situation.

We’ve been in Florida for a day and a half now, and I am still in a lot of pain.  I went to the local chiropractor yesterday and will return today.  Scott and the kids are out on a canoe trip right now with my father-in-law, and I hope they are having a great time.  Tomorrow we hope to make a trip to the beach.  Please pray for my neck crick to cease so I can enjoy my last few days here in Florida.  I am sad to be on the sidelines of this trip; I want to be on the field!!

Farewell Tour, Part I: Grandparents

Sunday, September 9th, was Grandparents Day here in the US of A, and over the last week, I have had time to visit with each of my grandparents before leaving on our big adventure.

Grandparents are such special people, and I am so lucky to have three living grandparents who are still able to impart their wisdom to me and my own children.  I’d like to share a bit about these wonderful people that I’m blessed to call “grandparent.”

As I drove up the dirt lane to my Grandma Reed’s house last Tuesday, I had the familiar feeling of comfort and serenity wash over me.  How many times have I driven (or been driven) down that road?  Too many times for me to count.  Since my parents no longer live in my childhood home, this place feels like home, even though I’ve never lived there on a permanent basis.

Grandma Thelma’s house

My paternal grandmother lives south of San Antonio in a town that I’ve never seen.  No, seriously.  I guess it must have a post office somewhere, but I’ve never seen it.  If you need anything out there, you have to “go to town,” meaning San Antonio.  As a kid, I loved that my grandparents lived out in the country, because I lived in the city, so going out there had a real peace and quietness that you could never quite get at home.  And it still does.

At the Reeds’ house, you never go in the front door.  Always enter through the garage to the side door, where you’re immediately in the kitchen/dining room.  And you will immediately smell Christmas, no matter what time of year it may be.

Grandma Thelma is a very neat and tidy person–“a place for everything and everything in its place”–even now at 86 years of age.  Almost everything in her house seems to have a bit of sentimental value or significance to her (someone she knew gave it to her or made it, etc.).  There is a story behind so many of her belongings, and she can tell some great stories.  Every time I see her, she tells me a story I’ve never heard before, about my dad and uncle when they were kids, or about her own childhood.  I’m jealous, because her memory is better than my own.

Me and Grandma Thelma

If you are hungry when you get to her house, you are in luck, because there is always something to eat.  She doesn’t cook as much as she used to, but even last week she had a yummy cake made up just for our arrival. If you like melons, you’ve struck gold, because you can count on there being cantaloupe at every meal.  There is something to be said for consistency, because whenever I think of the following things, I’ll always think of my grandparents Reed:  Dove and Zest soaps, Ponds facial cream, The Price is Right, The Young and the Restless,  and Jeopardy, along with much more.

My Grandpa John, who would have turned 93 last Thursday, Sept. 6th, was retired for as long as I could remember, but he still worked hard.  He would garden, and all my childhood years, there would be fruits and vegetables he’d grown in the garden to eat.  He was a good cook, too.  He made the best brisket you’ve ever tasted and his mashed potatoes were delicious.  He would mash them until you’d think there couldn’t possibly be anymore lumps, and then mash them some more.  Growing up, there was always a surplus of food to eat, and it was all really good.  I could list all the foods that I remember being staples there, but I don’t want to make y’all too hungry 😉   He told great stories, as well, and I really miss that.  This December will be 9 years since he passed away, and I am thankful that I can still remember the way his voice sounded and the smell of his cologne.

Country living does have a few downsides, though.  You must always watch where you step for scorpions in the house (no going barefoot!), and outside, keep a watchful eye for rattlesnakes!  And walking to the mailbox is out of the question, at least in the summertime.  You’ve got to drive–which was actually a plus for us kids, because we got to sit on Grandpa’s lap in the old blue pickup and steer!

I must have thought that front doors were just for decoration when I was little, because you never use my other grandparents’ front door either.  Just like the Reeds’, you enter the Watsons’ house through the garage and straight into the kitchen 😉

I was able to visit them just in time for their 78th and 76th birthdays on September 8th.  Yes, the have the same birthday!  I always thought that was so cool.  Roy and Glenda live in Houston, so most of my visiting there wasn’t overnight, although I have slept there 3 times this summer!

My mom has three younger brothers, and both my grandparents have several siblings each, so family gatherings always involved a lot of people!  Grandpa Roy has a barbecue every 4th of July, and their house is a frequent gathering place for Christmas and Thanksgiving.

Roy and Glenda are young grandparents for a 33 year old, so when I was a kid, they still worked.  Grandpa worked for Borden as a refrigeration technician (kind of important for a company that sells milk and ice cream), so whenever I see Elsie the Cow, I think of him 🙂  I remember him in coveralls with his name, “Roy,” stitched on the front, a pen in his pocket, and a massive key ring on his belt.  One of the best things about Grandpa working for Borden was hat he had a freezer full of ice cream and popsicles when I was little.  You can’t beat that!!

Grandma was a first grade teacher and I remember going to see her at work a few times.  When I was older, she would let me grade her students’ papers.  I thought I was so cool.  Grandma Glenda was also a very good seamstress.  She made the dress I wore in my Uncle Roy’s wedding when I was 8, and also the dress I wore to Homecoming in 1996.  Grandpa Roy used to be a big golf enthusiast and at one time he created a putting green in his backyard, complete with two or three holes (they have a really big backyard).

Being young grandparents means that the Watsons are connected.  The house has WiFi; Grandma has a laptop and Grandpa has a desktop in his office. Both of them have Facebook accounts, and they have an iPhone.  I am thrilled that I can keep in touch with them while I’ll be overseas

My mother’s parents will be married 57 years in December, and my father’s parents would have celebrated their 66th.   Both are an amazing example of love and devotion.  I am fortunate to have grandparents on both sides that are strong Christian examples for me.  We were always at church, Sunday morning, evening and Wednesday night when I was there to visit.  Grandpa John was an elder at his church, and my Grandpa Roy leads singing and is very active in the prison ministry.

I know I’ve already said it, but it’s worth saying again–grandparents are special.  Don’t take them for granted.  I am so glad I’ve been able to spend some good time with mine lately, just in time for Grandparent’s Day.

“Saying Goodbye, Going Away…”

“…Seem’s like goodbye’s such a hard thing to say.

Touching a hand, wondering why…

It’s time for saying goodbye.

Saying goodbye, why is it sad?

Makes us remember the good times we’ve had.

Much more to say, foolish to try…

It’s time for saying goodbye.

Don’t want to leave, but we both know, sometimes it’s better to go.

Somehow I know, we’ll meet again,

Not sure quite where, and I don’t know just when.

You’re in my heart, so until then…wanna smile, wanna cry…

It’s time for saying goodbye.”

The above are lyrics from the cinematic masterpiece, “The Muppets Take Manhattan.”  If you didn’t know that, you are clearly not:

a) a child of the 80’s

b) a parent of young children, or

c) a person of such a high caliber of cinematic taste as I.  (Bwahahaha!!)

The song is much better with the melody.  Google it.  You will thank

me later.

Seriously, though.  This is a great song for my situation.  It’s exactly how I feel!  I am sad to leave my friends and family, but I know that there is an amazing adventure and opportunity for us that we have to take.

Goodbyes are just one of those things about life that really stink.  Sometimes I feel like my seven-year-old when I think to myself, “I don’t wanna go because I’ll never meet someone like ______ ever again and they are my bestest bestest friend in the whole wide world (or at least in the town of _____) and I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to make another friend again!!!”

I LOVE LOVE LOVE all of my friends here and I will miss them so dearly.  It’ll be hard to go to church with a whole new set again.  I won’t be working in the UK, so I won’t have crazy-fun co-workers to cut up with anymore.  But I know that it will be okay.

We’ve started the saying of goodbyes, recently, and it is tough, I’m not gonna lie.  I’m a part of a “Really Cool Book Club” (ha ha!) and I had to say goodbye to those ladies on Saturday.  It made me very sad because I was really just getting to know some of them and now I am up and leaving.

Sunday was our last worship service at our church home in Waco.  I am super sad to leave these folks.  They have been an outstanding source of encouragement and support for us.  We have so many wonderful friends that have prayed for us and helped us in so many ways.  They are so dear.  After the sermon on Sunday morning, our wonderful preacher, Jim, read a note I had written to the congregation thanking them for just being the wonderful Christian brothers and sisters that they are.  Then he asked those who wanted to surround us and led a sweet prayer for us.  Let me tell you, that is a powerful feeling.  An overwhelmingly heart-full feeling of peace and love.  LOVE these people!!

Sweet friends from church! Emily, Me, and Christina

Our church pals also had an awesome “Bon Voyage” ice-cream party for us on Sunday night, and it was so wonderful to visit with everyone.  But it was too hard to actually say the words goodbye, so I told them I’d see them on Wednesday.

Will and his best bud, Logan.

Mia and Claire, BFFs.

Tuesday night, I had a “last supper” of sorts with my phenomenal co-workers, who I will miss very greatly, because they have been such a source of comfort, humor and stress-relief for me.  Yes, I go to work to relieve stress!!  That is how awesome my job is!  I am very sad to leave these ladies.  We had such a good time over dinner just laughing and cutting up.  It was too hard to say goodbye to them, too, so  I told them I’d see them on Wednesday.

My wonderful co-workers! Lauren, Me, Kim, and Kathy (aka Boss Lady)

Well, great.  Now it’s Wednesday.  WHAT am I going to do?!?  I don’t want to say goodbye!!  And I’m afraid I’ll turn into a big ol’ cry baby when forced to do it.  Phooey.

Scott’s co-workers have also been super-good to him the last couple of days.  On Monday they had a going-away party for him with his department, where they took him to Peter Piper’s Pizza and played arcade games and rode bumper cars.  Wish I could’ve seen that.  Then on Tuesday, which was his last day, his desk was decorated and they had more food, cake, etc. for him.  He has been so blessed to work with such great people.

I do believe the hardest goodbyes will be to family, though.  We are planning a “Farewell Tour” for the first couple of weeks of September.  We’ll be traveling to the San Antonio area, Houston, Alabama, and the Florida panhandle.  We’re looking forward to spending some time with our families before our big adventure, but we’re not looking forward to saying goodbye.  Thank goodness for modern technology like Skype, Facebook and blogs!  Maybe that way we’ll not feel as though we’re so far away.

Too bad Skype hadn’t been invented yet for Kermit and Miss Piggy… 😉

To Pack, or Not to Pack…

Will and Claire posing with some of our luggage. These suitcases are so large that they fit inside!

…that is is the question.  In most cases, the answer for us is probably “not to pack.”  Since we only get one free checked bag (that can only weigh 51 pounds), and one carry-on bag each, we are trying to take as little as possible with us to the UK.  If it doesn’t fit in our suitcases, it’s not coming.

We do have the option of storing some of our things at our parents’ houses, but we are really trying not to have to rent a storage unit in the States while we’re gone.  That’s an expense we just really don’t want to undertake while we’ll be living in a place where the cost of living is so much higher than it is here.  So, parents get to store some our belongings for us.  Aren’t you glad, parents?!

Even so, we’ve really tried to cull and pare down our belongings that are staying behind.  Last weekend we had an enormous moving sale.  In the rain.  On tax free weekend, no less.  We didn’t quite get the turn-out we were hoping for, but we still sold a lot of stuff.  Many of our things were sold, and afterward, many things were donated to the Family Abuse Center’s second hand shop in Waco.  I still things to go through, but I think the majority of the stuff that is either not going to be stored or packed in our suitcases is gone.  Woo hoo!  I cannot express how freeing it is to see all of those items walking away.

So what are we taking?  Will cannot fathom his life without Legos, so the Legos will be making the trip.  Likewise, Claire loves her mini Disney princesses, and has even started getting in on the Lego action, too.  So, those will also be packed.  How did I get so lucky that my children like tiny little toys?  They also love dress-up, so I’m sure a couple of costumes will be coming as well.  For me, there are a couple of special decor items that will be tucked away into my suitcase.  A beautiful ceramic plaque my friend Jen made for me that reads “God’s blessing rest upon this house, and all who dwell within; may all who enter, too, be blessed,” pictures, my favorite throw blanket, a couple of books, but mostly my clothes.  I don’t really think Scott cares what goes in his suitcase other than clothes.  I’m sure he is going to take a few reference books, as well.

I’ve heard it’s a good idea to take a set of your own measuring cups and spoons as they have different measurements for cooking, and if you are following your own American recipe, you’ll need your American measuring cups, unless you really want to do the metric conversions (which I do not).

Another thing we’re doing is pre-packing some boxes that we’ll have our parents ship to us at a later time after we leave.  For example, I got some of those large flat-rate shipping boxes from the post office, and I filled one with our Christmas stockings, a “cookies for Santa” plate, and several special ornaments, but nothing too fragile.  I also filled another with some craft items that I know I’ll want once I’m there, but that I don’t think I’ll have room for in my suitcase.  Another such box will be filled with taco seasoning, ranch-style beans and salsa.  I don’t know if I’ll make it very long without some Tex-Mex.  I’m pretty attached to that stuff.

Can y’all think of anything else that I should take with me, or pre-pack?  What would you not be able to live without?

Paperwork, Passports, and Visas, Oh My!

What must one do to prepare to move to another country, you may ask?  Well, I’ve got an answer for you.  Paperwork.  LOTS of paperwork.

We seemed to be drowning in it there for a while.  From obtaining passports to submitting visa applications, a lot of forms must be filled in, as the Brits say.

The first step one must take in preparing to move to the UK is obtain a passport.  This is the easy part.  You just drive yourself down to Walgreens, get them to snap an oh-so-lovely picture of you, fill in the appropriate forms that can be found on the good ol’ Interwebs, and go to the post office.  There, a friendly US postal service worker will make sure all your documents are correct, charge you an outrageous amount of money (not their fault), take your birth certificate from you, and send it off to the Department of State.  A couple of weeks later, your passport comes to you in the mail.  Voila.

The visa, however, is another story all together.  First, you must find out exactly what type of visa for which you need apply.  For Scott, this was simple.  The university told him which visa he needed to get.  For me, not so easy.  The UK Border Agency website is a wicked labyrinth, I tell you.  Wicked!  They just keep making you click on different links and never really give you the answers you are looking for.  Well, when all was said and done, I applied for the general visitor’s visa, as the UK recently changed their visas for spouses of students with Scott’s particular situation (too long of an explanation, and convoluted).  Sooo…once you’ve found out what type of visa to apply for, you get to fill in even more paperwork.

Here’s where it gets tricky.  Everything I’ve read about applying for visas in the UK says “Do not make travel plans or book flights before you apply for your visa!!!”  Well.  When you are filling in your visa application, they ask for your travel itenerary and where you will be staying when you arrive in the UK.  Hmmm.  That was most unhelpful.  Regardless, and possibly stupidly, we booked our flights before we applied for our visas.  As soon as we found out that the money had come through and Scott was unconditionally accepted, we booked the flights because he has to be there on September 27.  Hopefully, all will work out and those visas will come through right in time for us to ship out.

Along with all that lovely paperwork for your visa, you must also go to an “Application Support Center” and have them record your biometric information.  For us, this meant we had to drive three hours to Houston to have a very nice lady and an equally nice man take our fingerprints electronically and snap another oh-so-lovely picture of us, so that the governing bodies know that we are who we say we are.  Yes, there are Application Support Centers all over the state, but the Houston office was the only one who had four appointments available on the same day.  So off we went.  Thankfully, they got all four of us in and out of there in 40 minutes, and that was even with an evacuation of the building for a possible fire.  Northwest Houston Application Support Center peeps, you rock!

More paperwork comes about when trying to find housing.  This can be especially tedious because you must convert dollars to pounds and such.  For someone who doesn’t do math very well (or at all if I can help it.  I am SO right brain), this is not fun.  Blech.  I am soooo tired of paperwork!

I *think* the paperwork phase is over for a while.  At least I hope so.

“Not Yet”

It all started about three years ago.  My husband, Scott, had just graduated from Abilene Christian University with a Masters of Divinity (a crazy long course of study–90 hours–that took him about five years to complete because he was doing it all part-time, commuting, and working as a youth minister full-time).  His entire goal was to one day be a university professor himself, and in order to do that you must have an MDiv (accomplished!) and a PhD.  So the search for PhD programs ensued.

Applications and essays were sent.  We waited anxiously to hear back from universities all over the United States.  Scott’s dream school was Oxford, but he didn’t bother applying there.  He’d go with the “safety net” schools.  I mean, who wouldn’t take him?  He’d had a 4.0 GPA his entire college (undergrad and graduate) career, except for one extremely tough class in his last semester of MDiv coursework.  He’s quite likeable, and just an all-around good guy.

We heard back from one school.  Baylor University in Waco, Texas.  At the time we were still living and working in Big Spring, Texas, a small West Texas town about six hours away from Waco.  We owned a house, had good jobs, friends, security.  All those things you work hard to have.  Baylor interviewed Scott.  They liked him, but not enough to offer him a spot in their PhD program.  They offered him a consolation prize of a place in their Masters program.  Now, he already has two Masters degrees, but we took a leap of faith and decided to move our family to Waco and try to get Scott’s foot in the door at Baylor.  We thought that if they met him, saw his work ethic, etc., that they’d fall in love and surely offer him a spot in that PhD program next year.  Right?

Well…the Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?  We moved to an apartment in Waco in the summer of 2010.  We registered our son for kindergarten, found a church home, got jobs.  We took a drastic pay cut and prayed.  Scott took classes at Baylor in the summer and fall.  In the fall semester he joined a colloquium of graduate students and was asked to submit a paper.  By the end of the fall semester, one of his professors asked him to take on some graduate assistant duties.  We thought we had it made, right?  Wrong.

What was wrong with these people?  We had uprooted our family, shown persistence and dedication, and were again being told, “no.”  We were shocked.  He was disappointed and discouraged.  I was angry.  He was ready to give up his dreams, all he’d been working for for almost ten years.  He began looking into other professions–teaching school, preaching–he even interviewed with a couple of churches.  Again, we were told, “no.”

So, we continued on with our lives, accepting the “new normal.”  Between us we had four jobs; Scott was working early mornings at UPS, loading trucks, and the rest of the day he worked at Sylvan Learning Center, in their fingerprinting area during the day and then tutoring kids after school.  I worked at a local flower shop, part-time.  Our financial situation was severe.  By the summer of 2011, we had to find a new place to live because our apartment at the time was just too expensive.  So in August, with the help of dear friends, we moved to a less-expensive duplex.  Our son started at a new school for first grade less than a week later.

In October, Scott was offered a job by a friend from church.  This job was an answer to so many prayers; it was able to take the place of all three of Scott’s other jobs, with regular hours! We are forever grateful to our friend!  But the time was nearing that graduate applications were due again.  I asked Scott if he was going to apply for a third time.  He was weary about doing so (understandably).  He’d had so much rejection and wasn’t sure if he could take anymore.  I encouraged him to go ahead and apply.  What would it hurt?  We were content with life as it was, and no further rejection would change anything.

Applications were sent in.  Baylor called him for an interview.  Again.  Baylor put him on the alternate list.  Again.  We didn’t hear from the two or three other schools in the States.  But Scott had done something differently this year.  He decided to apply to that “dream” school–Oxford.  He assumed it was a long-shot and that it wouldn’t pan out.

As I said, the Lord works in mysterious ways.  In mid-May, we received a letter from the University of Oxford offering Scott a place to study ecclesiastical theology for a Master of Studies degree.  This is the typical avenue students take to get into Oxford’s Doctor of Philosophy program.  (As we understand it, you have to really impress them to be offered a place straight into their DPhil program.)  Our jaws dropped.  WHAT?!  I think for a little while, I was in shock.  Could this really be happening?  Could we actually have the opportunity to go to Oxford, England, after so much rejection?  Yes.  Yes, we could.

The were a few more obstacles in the way, however.  There is something that every student needs in order to attend a university.  They need money.  And lots of it.  Now, how were we going to get the thousands of dollars it cost to take on this adventure?  That was what consumed us up until about a week ago.  By the grace of God and through many many prayers (our own and many faithful friends and family) we were able to prove that we could financially sustain ourselves.  Our plan is to be in England for at least one year, and hopefully four to five years, if Scott is able to go on to the DPhil program.

The last two and a half to three years of my life have been extremely tumultuous.  I have had days where I was so depressed I could not get myself out of bed.  I was so shrunken with fear and worry over what was going to happen to our family.  I could not understand why my husband, who was so smart, and so talented was not being accepted.  Why had we gone through so many years of school only to be rejected over and over again?  I prayed intently for Baylor to accept Scott each time he applied and interviewed there.  I cried each time we heard the “bad” news.

But, God has his own agenda, and sometimes it doesn’t match up with ours.  Haven’t we all heard that lesson that when we pray, sometimes God says, “yes,” sometimes “no,” sometimes, “not yet?”  I was taught that lesson, very obviously.  I know we’re all taught that lesson by God at one time or another, but this was an in-your-face type of lesson for me.  It’s just like God, too.  Once we finally decided we were happy with what was given us, that we could be okay where we were, God said, “Okay, guys.  Now you’re ready.”

So, now we have less than one month before we leave for Jolly Old England!  There is much to be done and we could not be more excited or more anxious.  I will be chronicling our adventure on this blog…from now until, well, whenever we come back to the States for good, I suppose!