Winding down...

You'll notice it's again been six weeks since my last post. Believe me, I've sat down many times to write it -- but each time I found ways to procrastinate, browsing Boden's website, returning emails, even cleaning the house (now that's desperate).

The thing is, I'm not ready to say goodbye.


Don't get me wrong -- I love, love, love Nyack, NY.  It's everything I could want in a settle-down-town. Great friends, amazing restaurants, terrific shopping, beautiful green spaces.



But for awhile there we got to avoid settling down, instead trotting the globe these last 4.7 years. It's been amazing. It's been mind-bending. It's been world-view-expanding, not to mention scary, exciting, delicious, sometimes quite bizarre and never, ever boring.

And I know this is the right time to go home. But darn it, we really made Bath feel like home, too.

Of course, it will always be home. It's where Josie spent her three (so far) most formative years. Where she learned to sleep in a big-girl bed, swing on a big-girl swing, tie her shoes, say "rubbish" and "plaster," ride a scooter, use the potty, eat with chopsticks, plant flowers and vegetables, play netball, stare glassy-eyed for hours at Peppa Pig, mediate conflict, select interesting outfits, read, write, and ride a bike (sort of).


It's where I learned to drive on the left hand side of the road for all of 13 minutes. It's where I learned to battle mold and mildew in every room and on every surface. It's where I discovered a deep and abiding love for Indian curry, Farrow and Ball paint, Hairy Biker crisps, Cath Kidston, fish pie, celery root, AGA cooking, the BBC, Gordon Ramsay, Jamie Oliver, Waitrose, crabbing (geez, a lot of these are food-related) and really challenging yoga classes.


And, in more exciting news, it's where Josie lost her first tooth, last week!

Baby Gap

And of course, Bath will always be where Hugo was born -- a blessed event I will always credit in no small part to the city's famous healing waters (seriously!) and for which, despite the no-drugs, no-frills labor, I will always be grateful.

We got to live in two amazing neighborhoods, from the sprawling, grand avenue of Great Pulteney Street to the lovely, serene, family-friendly Northampton Street.

We've made and maintained so many amazing friendships, in Paris and Sweden and London and Bath, and everywhere in between.  And if you wrap in our 20 months in Paris we got to see a good chunk of this part of the world, from the exotic to the more home-grown: the Loire Valley, Alsace, Tuscany, Turkey, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Salzburg, Stockholm, Devon and Cornwall -- some of the most beautiful places and spaces on earth. We got to explore the West End of London so completely it felt like a home away from home.

We have been so, so fortunate to have this adventure together. From our early days in Paris -- haltingly ordering appliances in French over the phone -- to our crazy UK drivearound in April, I think it's made us a stronger family unit - and given us memories to last a lifetime (poor Hugo will have to make do with photos, lots of video, and careful, detailed storytelling).

The last six weeks or so have been a seemingly endless string of goodbyes: from Jeff's office farewell dinner and sendoff party to my last American Girls' dinner to Lansdown Mom's 40th to a last trip to Bowood with our wonderful Pulteney Street neighbors. One last breakfast burrito at Jika Jika. One last meander through the Guildhall. One last frenzied climb (and chase!) around Sydney Gardens' death-defying playground equipment.

When Jeff came back for a week over half-term break, we hit all our favorite haunts, from Horse World to the Holburne -- making one last picnic at Parade Gardens and one last mad dash through Marks and Spencer.

Horse World -- first and last visits 

Nom and I took Josie on one last whirlwind trip to London, too. We caught the 8:13 train and despite a constant downpour managed to see Westminster Abbey, the Portrait Gallery, the British Museum and Selfridge's, with a fabulous French lunch with mega-treasured pal Pat Swords wedged in the middle.

We have a lot to squeeze in during this last week.  I still have a last lunch with Pittsburgh Mom at the Bath Priory, into whose sumptuous dining rooms I have only voyeuristically peeked, one final curry with the Rajpoot Cabal, and what will surely be a sob-fest, Josie's farewell from the Royal High School for Girls on Friday.

 

If there's ever a global Sag Paneer shortage, you'll know who to blame. 

Thursday the packers come to pack, and Friday the movers come to move. We'll spend one last night in this World Heritage City -- at the Hilton -- grab one last pint at the Pulteney Arms, and hop the two o'clock to JFK.

And in 24 short hours I'll go from being the ever-present, loud, food- and bargain-obsessed American to plain, old Nyack Mom.  Au revoir, mes amis!  See you on the other side.