The history channel

I am almost back in the land of the living, after a week of transiting between bed and the sofa, with a bad dose of flu. Whilst still sounding like a bloke, I am feeling much better and thankfully back to my social routine, with Ramadan approaching I am making the most of being out and about with my girls and copious amounts of coffee, before routine goes out the window and we all adjust for the holy month. 

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Home Truths

There comes a time in every expat life, where the novelties have worn off and it just becomes life. Routines are forged, every day flows into the next, without major discoveries or incident, and before you know it year 1, 2 and 3 are behind you. As Hubby and I approach the same time period in the desert, as we did in Prague we can’t phathom where that time as gone and how our desert life will have more longevity than our European adventure. I for one never envisaged that would happen, but love that it has. Like many expats, we entered the new year contemplating the last and having that annual discussion of whether we are happy, bored or indifferent to our current location and what plans should be made. As we are eager to continue on our sandpit journey, our travels will be for pleasure and Kuwait remains home. 

End as you mean to go on

Sorry for the absence folks, but this little thing called Christmas and family get together all got in the way of my blogging, so I know you’ll be dying to hear all about my latest adventures. For those of you that don’t stalk my Instagram account or have been living under a desert rock for the past month, you wont be aware that I had a very busy December and by the time I arrived back in the desert New Years Eve I had taken 12 flights in as little as 6 weeks! No wonder I was sick and exhausted, but do you know what I didn’t care, because in true nomadic expat style I finished the year with some fabulous travels. So at the start of 2018 I take a deep breath and reflect on the month that was.

An expat love letter

Lately I feel that I have hit a little slump. Even with my blog posts, there seems to be way more negativity or little grumps about desert life. Now, don’t get me wrong there are totally days where we all feel like screaming, but I was feeling a little overwhelmed by the negativity, irritation and frustration. This is the danger zone. In my opinion, this is where you can so easily start spiraling into the depths of expat blues, which isn’t just some smart social media slogan, but something that definitely exists. All that change in one’s life in one single moment, loneliness or just feeling like a fish out of water can impact you so deeply. 

Bitched, bothered & bewildered

Sometimes the slightest thing can throw you off or sometimes nothing at all seems to be the culprit. I don’t know if it was the being struck down with the latest desert cold or whether it was something else, but I have definitely feeling detached of late. I am by no means unhappy, in fact I continue to be content with my sandpit life, but there was definitely something that had made me uneasy. Why does a small change in our mood or emotional state become such an issue when living abroad? 

Who’s that (Jersey) girl?

I’ve said it many a time, that we expat bloggers are a friendly bunch, gravitating towards each other on all social media platforms.  We “like”,  follow and comment on all things expat, giving each other that knowing virtual nod that we “get it”.  A recent development has been, a hashtag piece of genius, called the Expat Tag.  I have been tagged twice now by lovely Brit Kylie from Between England and Iowa and more recently by Ayaan and Safiyya, aka The Xpats a friendly Dubai based couple. The idea is that everyone answers the same 10 questions, giving people a real insight into the multitude of different expat experiences and the stories behind the blogs. So here goes, its my turn and in the words of Madonna………who’s that girl? 

On shaky ground

I’m by no means in a blip right now, but I am definitely unsettled somewhat. As I am approaching my three year mark in the sand, so too are some of the original desert girls. Those ladies that touched down within weeks on my arrival and who have been part of my social circle every since. Now, many of us  on these nomadic trails have a limited timescale and quite a few are contracted out to this random corner of the desert for a set period. Hubby and I have never embarked on a fixed term contract anywhere, allowing the decision to move on to be our own. But for many, particularly in this part of the world, they are on countdown from the moment they arrive, so as I approach three years, so too do a lot of contracts and departures are imminent.

Planning permission

I have a confession to make…. Hi my name is Jersey Girl and I am a planner! Yep there it is, I’ve said it. I am the one you find, addictively buying everything pretty in Paperchase, just so I can document every inch of my life. I have spreadsheeted Christmas! I have also been known to have a rather lovely pink Filofax, back in the day, that came everywhere and was my only comfort sitting alone in a coffee shop pondering the week ahead. So I may have moved on from my little pink book, but last week as I spent the morning colour coding my calendar on my iPhone (I know don’t judge me!) I realised that there is still a planner lurking deep down inside me. The issue now is that my expat existence doesn’t allow my wonderful gift to flourish. Now whilst I am sure that Hubby is relieved by this prospect, it had me thinking…do I still really need it?

To plan or not to plan;that is the question

Home sweet home

I am back in the motherland, which is making this Jersey girl very happy. You will be aware that I took a little blogging break last week, which was a little strange for me and seems like I’ve not written for ages, so its good to be back both in my island world and my blogging world.

The main reason for my trip back to my little isle is my new little niece. All my desert girls have lived through my sister’s pregnancy and our weekly brunches were filled with bump updates and they shared in my excitement when the little lady made her early appearance. So I was beside myself sitting in the desert knowing this little bundle of joy was waiting for her awesome auntie. So last Friday Hubby and I started that long arduous journey back to The Rock.

A bump in the road

I am writing this weeks post from the depths of kleenex and Vicks! Perhaps its the constant cold and flu tablet intake, the fever and delirious nights sleep, but whilst feeling hot and cold at the same time, I’ve also been feeling a little home sick. Don’t get me wrong I’m not in a deep depression pining for home, but there are definitely pangs for home or rather the people there.

In the midst of cold induced self pity, I decided to Face Time my mum. It had been a couple of weeks since we spoke “face to face” so I thought I would catch her up on my holiday and all things desert side, but mainly to tell her I was feeling pants and just wanted some mummy time. As we were chatting, she revealed that my little sis was also there so I got two for the price of one and I was already starting to get some clarity from my head cold.