Enormous is a word that does not lend itself to contraction or poor pronunciation. The accent on the middle syllable seems to make it, with good reason, the most prominent word in the sentence. The Titanic and the Empire State building are big. The Great Plains and the Atlantic Ocean are enormous.

This is the adjective that most comes to mind when I think about Friday June 23^rd. This was the day we departed for England. It describes the magnitude of what we were doing and the emotions that attended the day.

As our flight didn’t leave until half-past four in the afternoon, we spent the day doing some final packing and weighing our cases. It was a day that is best described as a Chinese Water Torture. We got more and more tense as the morning wore on. I for one couldn’t have the limo come for us fast enough. The part that I was dreading the most was that I knew that I would have to give my Mum a hug, tell her that I loved her and then that would be it. I would be making, in my mind, the final break.

When the moment came, it was just as hard as I had anticipated. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to do it or don’t love my Mum, it was just the enormity of the situation that weighed on me. It was so emotionally charged. Perhaps I am happier to shy away from those situations. We got in the limo and pulled away, I was relieved somewhat to be headed for the airport.

I do not think that we spoke a word in the car on the way to the airport. It was better that way, so as not to let the emotions flood out at a moment when focus on keeping moving was more important.

As difficult as it was getting to the airport, there were challenges once we arrived. Watch this space to find out why Fit Club is not just for celebrities.

Hello everyone reading this! It is Tuesday evening here for us.
This will be our first post from London. We have made it here in one piece and are doing some of the heavy lifting required to get up and running.
This will be a little short in terms of all that I have to tell. Over the next few days I will try to capture our travels here.
To be sure, we are well and finding our way.
Watch this space for more.
Cheers!

The legend in my family that I have heard my mother tell on numerous occasions. In May of 1970, on the day that they moved in to the house they still occupy, my father stood at the top of the stairs and proclaimed "We are Never. Moving. Again". So far he is true to his word. This week I found out why he made that proclamation thirty-six years ago.

The sale of our house was final on the 15th. Which means we are now unemployed and homeless. Nothing says success like being thirty-eight years old and living in your parents basement. Just for a week.

It has been said that the stress of moving is second only to the loss of a loved one. I'll agree with that. The entire experience of packaging all of my posessions in to boxes and ramming a storage unit full to bursting had me in a frenzy. I never want to move again. Oh, wait.

Fortunately, the counterpoint to my day of hyperventilation was Joanne's contstant reassurance that it would all be O.K. Which it was. We finished moving out of the house in plenty of time, left the keys on the counter and walked away. Walked away because we have sold the car.

One week left in Canada and then we are off to London.

Sometimes the universe sends you a sign. Sometimes, but not often, the sign is in the form of a TV show. Tends to be much easier that way. Last night I watched an episode of that old show "Around the World in 80 Days" by Michael Palin of Monty Python fame. The show was, on one level, unwittingly comical. Palin seemed to have an underlying sun-never-sets-on the-empire British attitude. There was an element in his presentation of bemusement with all of the "savages" he encountered. Then again, the message that resonated with me, He seemed to be trying to immerse himself in the indigenous culture. He seemed to be genuinely trying to be a traveller not a tourist. This is the lead that I would like to follow.

I mark this show as appropriate as yesterday was my last day at work and Wednesday was Joanne's last day at work. We are now unemployed, as we had planned to be. For me this will be the first time since I was about twelve that I don't have a job.

It was easier than I thought it would be to finally walk out for the last time. I will miss all of the people that I work with. Everyone was supportive and gracious, as I expected. But getting home and sitting down I didn’t feel that there was any change, any emptiness, anything missing. It is at this moment, some hours after the end, not as troubling as I thought it might be. There is more looking forward than looking back.

So now the packing begins in earnest. The house closes on the 15th. Before we can begin in England, Canada has to be closed up. But first, we’re taking a taxi to the Bingo as soon as the pogey comes.