E is for easy.
Because we live in southern Spain, where the sun is said to shine 333 days of the year (not so this year, but please don’t worry about me), the beach is close, we can eat tapas every day if we want, and we are constantly wafting about smelling of suntan cream, some people mistakenly think that our life is like a holiday. The Big Easy.
Guess what. That ain’t the truth. We still have to work and fret about all the normal rubbish like money, bureaucracy, education and health. I don’t think I know a single person who would say that they are finding things ‘easy’ at the moment, wherever they are.
I will admit that when life is hard it is made easier when the sun is shining. But my goodness in the winter we can go for days up here on the mountain without being able to see beyond the end of the terrace. We can be in the clouds for days on end. And then things don’t seem so bright. When it’s grim here, it’s really grim.
Whatever the weather, sometimes I can be walking down the street, or just about to fall asleep, and it hits me like a wave, this question: “What am I doing here?” Perhaps when I am walking, or sinking into sleep, my mind is somehow not so engaged with the day-to-day stuff of life that it lets this question rise to the top of my mind.
It’s a good question as it forces me to remind myself what exactly I am doing here away from family and old friends. We came for a different way of life, and we got it.
Despite the difficulties that it raises in life, one of the main reasons for me to leave the warm bosom of work, family and friends in London, was to learn a new language. I had been in the same job for 10 years and I needed to do something new with my mind. I needed a challenge. I needed to break the routine before I got irretrievably comfortable.
Leaving was less difficult for Mr B, who is a bit of a rolling stone, but staying has not always been so easy.
We feel happier about bringing up our daughter here in Spain but, wherever you are, who out there can honestly say that the first two years of parenthood aren’t the most difficult of your life. Nothing easy about that. Except perhaps for the love.
I am not going to have a moan here about the things in Spain that drive me nuts. I have done it elsewhere on the blog and besides I would have a list just as long about London. In the grand scheme we are incredibly lucky. We live in the most beautiful place, we have a gorgeous, bright and sunny little girl, and so importantly we have good friends. And perhaps, yes, life in Andalucía is more laid back…
I am just saying that it ain’t the Big Easy. And, for those of you who know me or this blog you won’t be surprised when I tell you that when I am feeling sad… I simply remember my favourite things, and then I don’t feel so bad!
No prizes for guessing that this post title was inspired by the Dennis Quaid-athon that is The Big Easy. Surely that kiss with Ellen Barkin in the swivel chair has got to be one of the best screen kisses of all time? No? Name me some others and I can youtube ’em.
This month I am a slave to the alphabet. Blogging from A to Z nearly every day of the goddam week y’all. Read it and weep. Also click on the banner below to find other similarly enslaved bloggers. It might also amuse you to know that I was blogging about expat angst for the letter E last year too.