Done and Dusted (Literally)...

We've done it. We're officially moved out. Yesterday we had a troop of friends helping to get the last bits out and thoroughly clean the place. We have some absolutely amazing friends out there - there were even people scrubbing our oven who I had literally never met or seen. Ridonculous.

I don't really know who reads this, if anyone, other than Sam, Ben and my hot hottie of a wife, and as such I write as if no one is really reading. Sometimes I get too mad, or sad, or whatever...unguarded you might say.

Leaving the house has brought out so many differing emotions in me. Last night I shocked at how I was feeling...utterly selfish. Essentially we're being kicked out of our house against our will at Christmas time. What an ultimatum to give*.

So our incredible friends have offered to put us up until we can find the right house, at the right price, in the right location. A monumental gesture of friendship in allowing us to completely invade their lives. Yet we don't want to be there. It's an amazing house and we have more than enough space - we even need to use the baby monitor now to hear our child cry!

I hate feeling like this because I think of the many hundreds of thousands of people worldwide living without a roof over their heads. I think about large families squashed into one tiny room because that's all they can afford. I get sad because we can no longer host as we choose, that it's not a "what we want, when we want it" rulebook temporarily. I keep thinking "this sucks"... but does it? It's a huge blessing! We're just being caught up in God's great grace. I know that we'll have the perfect place soon - I think I just need to adjust my attitude in the meantime**.


*Please note "kicked out" isn't due to rent payments etc etc, they are proposing putting another level on our building so the who block got given notice.

**Disclaimer - the couple putting us up are a wonderful couple. They are generous beyond belief, understanding and sympathetic to our situation, and have been great friends to Liz and I since their arrival in England. We have utmost respect for them. This blog is no way construing that they are a suffocating presence (in their own house, no less!!) or by any means lessening out quality of life. We love them dearly and are so grateful for all they are doing and have done for us.

My Phenomenal Wife...

My wife is utterly phenomenal. Like ridiculous. I can't believe her endurance.

Right now she is doing everything. Everything. We move house on Saturday, and I've barely lifted a finger. She's done it all, and she's done it all whilst looking after a teething baby, getting up for night feeds, cooking me dinner, letting me gate-crash marriage night with studies and coping with my grumpy, tired self. She's putting up with chaos at home with moving bits everywhere.

My admiration for this woman has at least tripled in the last week, and that's from a tremendously high starting point.

And you know the crazy thing? She'll probably be doing this all over again in a couple of months time. My wife is phenomenal.

Thinly Spread...

It hit me tonight, for the first time really, just how thinly spread I've become.

I long to be the perfect man, but maybe haven't realised just how much that entails until tonight. Don't get me wrong, I will strive to be this guy until my last breath... it's just exhausting!

I am currently trying to be the perfect husband, the perfect daddy, the perfect worker, studier, small group leader, worship team member to name a few things. This coming week could potentially be the most exhausting ever. We are getting closer to moving day (next Saturday) which is an emotional roller coaster in itself. I then have a large project at work being handed in on Friday and am trying to keep my head above water. On top of that I have my first University coursework hand-in on Wednesday, as well as my first examination in Construction Law.

My thought right now is bring on next week, when all of the above craziness will be over, only to be replaced by a whole lot more stuff, I'm sure.

3 Years, 1 Baby, 7 Cars...

I haven’t the time to blog, due to tight work deadlines, but Liz just reminded me that it was our 3 year dating anniversary last week! One of the best decisions ever and a night that would change my life forever. I like to think I’m a stats man, a straight thinker. If you want “outside the box” then I’m not your man.

One of the first things I thought of when “3 years” was brought to my attention was just how many cars we’ve had in that time… for the record, it’s 3 years, 7 cars! Here’s the breakdown

- Skoda Fabia – my housemates car which was leant to me for a year. The car we went on our first date in

- Ford Fiesta – Liz’s insanely beat up (by the end) first car in the UK. Served us amazingly well, despite obviously flaws (and lack of obvious floors dues to Liz’s “dump on site” philosophy!)
- Toyota Carina – Belonged to my sister-in-laws parents. We loved this car for a day – it worked! Day 2, the fuel pump broke, £300. After a month the head-gasket blew. Another car down.

- Vauxhall Vectra – Another car from a friend. This time the turbo was broken – 0-30 in 15-18 seconds. We went no where fast.
- Toyota something – my first Automatic car. Came at the right time, fun to drive until I tried putting the non-existent clutch down which was the break.

- Ford Focus – an almost new car. Work offered me a company car, this was my interim. The car of my dreams since I was a wee lad. Loved it
- VW Golf Estate – At 24 I was choosing a car based on the size of its trunk, unexpected. Received with less than 100 miles on the clock, this will now be our car for 2 and a half years.



Wow…