Oh oh, nearly missed a day.

38 days......

Ok, I actually did miss a day since it is 1am, but I can make another post later on Sunday. I also posted twice of Friday anyway so it evens out.

Naughty boys

Moving is hardly new to me, or my family, we've moved around a fair bit, leaving Motherwell when I was 12, and arriving in Falkirk in 2000 via Blackpool and Edinburgh, but I was only a car journey or a short train ride from everyone I knew. So to say that the decision to move your life accross an ocean and down a bit (leaving everything you grew up with, the people who have been around you your entire existence, your way of life, and that small part of your soul that will always be firmly anchored in your home town,) isn't easy, would be an understatement. No, saying the Nazis "rubbed people up the wrong way" is an understatement, this decision was heart-wrenching and damn near impossible to make.

It's taken me seven years to pluck up the courage to make the move, since I couldn't do it at the first time of asking, but there probably wont ever be a better opportunity for us to do this, and I actually want to do it. Wanting to go somewhere and wanting to leave somewhere are two very different things. No one wants to be thousands of miles from their family, no one wants to ditch everything they've achieved and move into the unknown, but no one wants to look back on their life and wonder what it would have been like if they had made the choices that made them happy instead of keeping everyone sweet.

But I thought I'd do one post about the things I'll miss.

Of course I'll miss my family, particularly my brother, who's house I spend about half my time in. I'll miss the fact that a quiet Friday could turn in to a night of drunken darts in the space of a text message, or a quick pint generally tended to be anything but. I'll miss being dragged into attending a gig for a band he's just discovered, to leave the venue their biggest fan, or doing the same to him.

I'll miss going to the pub in the afternoon, commandeering the  jukebox, and hanging around to watch the shite covers band at night.

I'll miss taking more wickets than him.....

I'm being squashed by a pilot

I'll miss Cricket. I really could write a whole post about this, and I probably will. For 15 years Cricket has been a huge part of my life. I've met so many great people through playing, had fights with so many arseholes, saw some beautiful places, and shitholes, and experienced some excellent moments which I'll never forget, whether it was the reaction of my teammates and my family when I scored my first 50, or when one of my players strangled a member the opposition. But I'll really miss just being part of the club, and having people to rip the pish out of on a Saturday. Thank god Peter is on Facebook.

Mmmmmmmmmmmm, cholesterol

I'll miss half pizza suppers, and irn-bru (I won't miss google images, which produced such a perfect picture for me containing both.) I'll miss walking to the shop to get rolls and milk, and usually pot-noodles. I'll miss being able to buy one packet of crisps, rather than a fucking sack of them. I'll miss chocolate, because if you don't already know, American chocolate tastes like ass. If you're American don't get all patriotic on me, just eat some British stuff and apologise to me.

I'll miss walking anywhere. Most people drive in the UK, but most people could live their lives without driving. I used to love the fact that every morning I could walk to my work through the woods and Callendar Park (where we got married) listening to the cheessiest music on my mp3 player,  and it was the best part of a day where I had the shittest job ever.

I'll miss the football. I know I don't go to every single game like I used to, but walking in the pishing rain to get to a more than half empty stadium to watch my lowly team grind out a 0-0 draw against a team of hoors, poofs, junkies, huns, fucking cheats, diving bastards, sheep shaggers, and plastic paddys, it a day well spent. Pun totally intended. Nothing beats being part of the Motherwell rollercoaster, as you just have to love a team that puts you through this sort of turmoil.

This is how many you need to eat to conquer the moreishness

I'll miss pound coins, money that doesn't smell, monster munch, chip shops, indian takeaway's, trains, small cars, tennents lager, hot tea, match of the day, roundabouts, tattie scones, greggs, the best scenery on the planet, wearing a coat just in case even in the middle of July, potato waffles, double decker bars, quavers, tunnocks anything, grumpy bus drivers, being able to communicate an entire sentence in one word, having the security of healthcare at any time of my life regardless of whether I happen to be working when illness or injury decides to hit me, family friendly working conditions, and the swearing.

There's no other country in the world where the word "fucking" is a punctuation mark and where "fuck" is a place,. There is nowhere else in the universe where you can call your friend a cunt, in an endearing way, and where inventing new swearwords is a growing industry.

Caledonia, sob.

It won't be easy to leave these things behind, and I'm sure the homesickness will hit me now and then, but at least I have someone who's been there and done it. Someone who made a huge leap of faith to move to Scotland to marry a guy she'd only seen in person for 6 weeks and known for less than two years. The fact that leaving Scotland was as hard for Cassie as leaving home was 7 years previously gives me the hope that maybe one day I'll feel the same way about my new home.

Or I could absolutely fucking hate it. Who knows :-)