Graduation day!

29 January 2013 - will go down in my/our history books.  Yesterday,  we attended my graduation ceremony B centre.  I had known for a couple months now that I had passed my course.  With Merits too.  A grade I've been aiming for since I started.

We were so proud.  BFL especially.  To think, BFL took me to school on my first day.  And yesterday he beamed with much pride sitting in the stalls watching me graduate. 

What a milestone!  I have to admit, I have been feeling somewhat low for a while. Not getting any headway in finding a job and all.  It was only when one of the gown people helped me put on my gown (designed apparently by Vivienne Westwood) that I finally felt that swelling sense of pride. I did it!

And they mentioned the merit too.  'The following student graduates with Merit in Masters of Research in Gerontology ...'

How far I've come since ...

Quoted BFL when he was introduced to my professors, 'she got more than what she bargained for when she started this course ...' And I wouldn't have it any other way ...!  He's the best thing that's happened and being here on this course enabled (not directly though) to live them all. And that, invariably brings me to the next topic of the following blog ... how everything begins with thoughts.  And things in life, events, people, timing, opportunities simply fall into place somehow helping you along your path.

A rambling report on confirmation and reading ...

Confirmation classes happened.  Just the two of us and the vicar.  Conducted in a fairly laid back informal manner in the vicar's sitting room.  I sort of expected it would be like that but I was also open to something else.  Formal classroom like situation with other younger participants.  Maybe next week's classes would be more of that since we've been given a couple books to read. 

On another note, I seem to be hardly reading these days.  I say that because I've not read a book from cover to cover for a while now.  Even my first downloaded book onto my Kindle Fire have not been touched...

What's happened?  Once upon a time ago I was a verocious reader.  As I grew older I still managed to read at least a few books a year on top of working full time (though I'd really like to do more).  But lately, I've noted come completion of any studies reading is the last thing I want to do ... I'd rather zen out playing some no-brainer computer game to the point of addiction or watch a video clip. It i s as if the entire experience of having to previously wade through reams of academic articles that makes the telephone directory seem far interesting in comparison has put me off reading entirely.  Am hoping it's only for a spell.  Not reading is not a good thing especially when you do need to read to broaden and enrich the mind.

Having said that saying that I've gone off reading entirely is not quite right.  I do read.  News on the internet, results of search from the internet, facebook, wikipedia ... articles that are written with brevity and point loading in mind.  Just I've not read a proper book in a while ... with how the internet is, and the rate of how fast news goes stale, it's affected somewhat my ability to peruse and appreciate finer styles of writing.  With gist and facts loading in mind, anything longer than a page is considered lengthy and verbose. 

I suppose this blog, the rambling style in which it's written aptly illustrates the point above!

Some rites of 'Integration' ...

I received my first 'brown envelop' from Her Majesty's Revenue.  Yes, the tax man now has his fingers in my hard earned pot of earnings.  Interesting how I don't mind  that quite so much.  Mainly because I see it as a rite of passage.  Part and parcel of being integrated into this  new country of residence.  That aside, they didn't tax me very much anyway having only worked part-time while studying full time.

That's the reason why I came to this country in the first place.  I had plans to pursue yet another postgraduate degree - intrigued to find out whether a P.H.D was indeed for me.  It has always been a sort of fancy of mine ... to attempt a PHd or at least some kind of qualifications that may lead up to embarking on research.  Now that I've completed the research course (shy of a PHd) I discovered I much rather be working and achieving practical things rather than delve into theoretical frameworks and academic exercises of theory building and the the philosophy that supports one's arguments.  Too much thought. Not much do - apart from producing papers that only you and your supervisor (half) understands ...

That aside, I have to admit that being a student here and learning to integrate to make this country one of permanent residence are two different experiences altogether.  In the former, you know for a fact its temporal and energies are focused on doing well and seeing as much of the country as you can in your spare time.  Whilst on the latter track, it's all about efforts to integrate, making new friends and networks, familiarizing oneself with how things are run and the geographical locality of facilities and amenities, learning about the community and what it takes to be part of it ... basically, a whole slew of efforts and issues that you take for granted in your own country of origin until this time.

So! Next on the efforts to integrate list are confirmation classes.  Though BFL and I have both been baptised, we've never really formally been 'confirmed' as church of F believers.  We've attended or at least tried to attend church most Sundays but because we know we were not confirmed we would choose to not participate in communion.  Which is a shame really ... because I have always long to go up but am much too aware that I've not gone through the usual 'rites of passage'.

I suppose we could have simply gone along and taken part.  After all, who's to know?  But that would not be 'doing it properly' - if any one were to ask. So tomorrow morning will be our first class. Down in the country's Rectory.  Where there's geese to be heckled and horses to talk to. :)  Not during the class, that is.  But after - on our usual country walks.  It would also be interesting to find out how young the others are.  I expect we'd be the oldest in our class. Am also hoping we don't get tested on what we've learnt ... after my year of being a student and having sat for yet more exams, I've come to the conclusions that one does reach a point that one could argue that one's much too old for exams.  Who 'writes' for three hours  these days?!  Type perhaps.  But write long hand, pen and paper ...?! To think that was once norm ... 

The 'Tiff'

Our first major 'tiff'  between BFL and I happened last week.     We have, as I have previously written about, been on a path of trying to make the decision whether to stay or move.  Hence the property search, the property agents and the valuers trooping in and out of the flat.

It's not exactly the most pleasant having strangers trooping through your inner sanctum assessing the value of the place. But needs must.  And after all that, BFL tells me to send him an email with my findings.  An email?!

Shall I contact his secretary while I'm at it?

Who does he bloody think he is ...? 

I was livid.  Yet, I felt at odds feeling the way I did.  I've always in my former habit simply bit my lip and swallowed the hurt.  Which tends to turn to bitterness after a while.  Not a good thing...

This time around, I went silent.  In spite of the tirade screaming in my head.  I was trying to make sense of how I felt.  But raging emotions as tumultous as they may be tells us much of what is.  I soon found myself in tears.  I was angry.  And he although he felt it he didn't quite know what was bothering me exactly.  Prodded he did, but I didn't let him in on it until the wee hours of the morning. By that time he was desperate.

It was admittedly a relief to the two of us.  To him particularly to understand what happened and why I felt and behaved the way I did. I also know he meant well.  He sometimes does forget to be diplomatic about things. And now that it's all out in the open we're able to forgive, work on being on the same page and move on.

Job Hunting ...

Part of the adaptation process - job hunting.  Ideally, it not only gives me something worthwhile to do during the day, it enables further opportunities for for building new friendships and networks.  Working relationships that are essential building blocks towards making this new country my home.  If all fails, at least I'm earning a living. 

Step through the door. I tell myself.  I've been asked more than many what I wanted to do.  With the country as foreign as I am, I am admittedly trying to work that out.  What I thought I could do is act in a kind of liaison type of role between my country of origin and my new country of residence.  But where do I find such avenues of potential liaison type roles is a challenge?  Many of these opportunities boils down too to a working knowledge of networks - which admittedly I hardly have much of.

I'm working on it.  But it all takes time.  And being somewhat impatient I have to admit this 'waiting' and chasing down various different avenues can be somewhat frustrating.  It's alot like fishing.  The bait is set, line cast and all I have to do is wait.

Then there's the rejection.  It's not only frustrating, it stings.  The self esteem taking yet another blow leaving one uncertain and doubtful of self.   I've had some near calls.  Invitation to interviews only to be rejected at the end.  But I suppose like someone encouragingly commented, one more rejection is one step nearer to finding what you want. 

So, here's to more job hunting process.  Am constantly back at the desk writing and sending off more applications whilst waiting in hopeful anticipation of finding a job that I not only enjoy going to but also one that is line with my expectations (job scope, pay and long term career plans).  Importantly also,  having colleagues who's camaraderie I hope could cultivated into good friendships, and a job that enables me to help cover the capital outlay of a family (a home, daily expenses, child care, health care and savings) and a balanced lifestyle of work and family time. 

Sometimes ...

There is sometimes the temptation to look back and feel sorry for oneself.  It's a futile thing to do since one can no longer undo the past. But I suppose 'looking back' is essential at times.  Particularly to take stock of 'what was', 'what i's and 'what will be' or rather what one chooses life to be.

I had as you've already gathered made a couple of huge mistakes in my life.  I married the wrong man.  I knew he was wrong but I thought he could change.  When we divorced soon after,  I then met another who was obviously wrong from the start but again, I chose to ignore my instincts.  He turned out to be a psychopath - convinced that his ways are the best even if it meant hurting others - physically, emotionally and mentally along the way. 

In this case, I arguably sillier than others.  Instead of once bitten twice shy.  It's twice bitten thrice shy.  My biggest fault is that I have vague borders .  I tend to give people a benefit of doubt.  Forgive too easily.  Psychopath like people who already have problems with borders will simply mean I'm easy kill.

Suffered I did.  To this day, I'm still wary.  The psychopath couldn't take my drawing the lines.  When I left, he went beserk.  First, it was bribery and flattery - all sorts of gifts and bribes, promising the world and change simply to get me back.  When that didn't work, he took to stalking.  He had my place watched. He knew all my movements. When I took a flight out with my sister and family I discovered to my horror he turned up seated next to me! 

When he could no longer trace me, he took to defamation.  From writing all sorts of defamatory accusations on the web he went one step further by bribing the police.  The finally published a 'wanted' criminal report int he local papers - alledging that I was wanted for assault and that I had gone missing and the police couldn't find me (even if my address was also published).

When I found out, my blood ran cold.  I had wisely chosen to distance myself from all his conniving schemes.  I took to travelling.  Seeing places in the world that I've always yearned to see ever since reading about it in the National Geographic magazine as a child.  This led to enrolling myself in a language course.  French - a language that is so 'Oolala!' which I hope to speak well one day.  This was followed by a very demanding postgraduate course with an internationally acclaimed organization.  For a year I lived, ate, slept books, research, papers etc.  Ignorance was indeed bliss ... 

Until a friend had to draw my attention to that defamatory article published in all local papers. I reeled in horror. To say the least.

So there you have it, I am allegedly a 'wanted woman'.  Admittedly, sometimes I seethe in rage at the unfairness of it all.  In my heart of hearts, I so want revenge.  That he would have his come uppence.  That he would suffer a slow excruciating debilitating affliction consequences of his own evil designs.  

But what can I do? What could I do? Even if I hired a lawyer to sue the papers and the police, my former country of residence has a system corrupt to the core.  He's slick and scheming enough to not leave evidence in his wake.  You know it's him.  But you simply cannot prove it.  He also has the means to get the establishment - particularly the police, eating out of his palm.

It was a witch hunt.  The plan was to smoke me out so he and all on his payroll would eventually swoop in to do their meanest.  Can't have what one wants, destroy her for others.  He is labelled a 'psychopath' for good reasons. And I now live in not so ignorant bliss that my  name has been unfairly smeared and reputation damaged.

In spite of that, by the grace of God I stand.  Tempted as I am to argue my case at least to write back in protest (along the lines of 'HOW DARE YOU! BL**DY PIECE OF S***!) I've chosen instead of walk away (with the exception of this blog where real identities kept anonymous).  He's since been relegated to the toxic category.  Which, in other words is a waste of time. Instead, I've chosen to concentrate my energies on moving onward and upwards in spite of who I am and the mistakes I've made. 

And so here I am.  All the hours with my nose buried in books, hard work and sleepless nights have culminated in a worthy merit.  The 'cherry on top' is meeting a kind and loving man who has turned out to be my best friend and lover.   And we have been very happy so far.

And what about the psychopath?  Shouldn't one at least attempt to redeem my reputation.  I've thought long and hard.  It is merely a trap set.  The recourse can not remedied by any human intervention, I'm afraid.  But 'vengence is Mine' - says my God.  And so it is.  So far, though I've felt the sting of his conniving ways I've not been harmed in any way.  My life instead have turned thankfully for the better. 

I can't say very much for hi  since I don't make it my business to know what goes on in his life.  But I can bet when one dabbles with all manner of insidious intrigues, it will catch up with him eventually.  Even in his sleep he will have no peace.  Living a life with no peace is truly hell on earth. Only through his doing.

The 11th and beyond ...

The BFL pointed out Friday the 11th would be 18 months of us being together.  It's amazing how time has flown ... it seems short and long at the same time.  18 months doesn't seem too long.  1.5 years to be exact.  Yet, in that 1.5 years we have achieved so much in building our lives together.  Quote BFL 'it's as if I've known you my entire life ...'

That in itself is amazing.  What are the chances of that 'knowing' happening in this life.  Particularly when this life is fraught with all sorts of complications.  Reality, I must add too can be quite harsh.  It has the power to thrash any rose tinted view of anything.  But he, being the older and wiser of the two 'knew' much earlier on of things to come.  Recalling the stuff he's said to me - for example when he first showed me around the area he said quite matter of factly 'one day, you'll get to know this area very well ...'

We had just started going out and while I 'knew' what I wanted in a relationship, it was too early for me to know whether he was the right one.  All I 'knew' then was that my internal alarms hadn't gone off inspite of our apparent differences. And the fact I was really quite comfortable being with him in spite of not knowing where my life was headed next (to go or to stay...?) was a positive sign.  Strangely, with this man who comes from a world and culture totally different from mine, all my fears and anxieties were silenced.  For a while I did wonder whether my instincts had turned against me.  Why was it so quietly comfortable?  It was a question that only time could reveal.

One would have thought that that would take years to uncover but somehow in that short span of time we learnt more of each other than one possibly could in years.  With all the uncanny 'coincidences' and shared experiences in our lives (particularly when he and I both come from two different parts of the world) I can only conclude as BFL once said 'it is as if we've known each other our entire lives ... '

And meeting was a matter of timing ... all preordained somehow.  No matter the impossibilities we were meant to be.  I am admittedly, not a believer in such absurd romantics.  But since its happened to us I've since and will always find it amazing.  Who would have thought?  To have achieved this much when the  probabilities of us even meeting are closer to nothing than something!

The road to happiness ...

It's simply to appreciate what you have in your life now. Warts and all.

Easier said than done I suppose... As human beings we're always whinging about how things could be better.  We're always looking to the past to compare - what could have been.  Or to the future to see whether the grass is greener on the other side.  That's only a natural human predisposition to be ambitious.  To be better.  And an innate desire to want the best for oneself and their loved ones.

I may be over simplifying things but I think if we appreciate what we have in our lives now - warts and all.  We will eventually get the best for ourselves and for our loved ones.  

Types of friends

Friends come in all shapes and sizes.  They come and go at different stages of one's life. Some 'good time friends', others 'bad time friends'.  Quite rarely you would find friends who are good in both good times and bad.   And these, if you asked me, are the truest of friends.  Friends who have time to sit and hear your laments and rejoice and celebrate with you as your luck improves.  

This blog posting is spurred on by one 'bad time friend' who is also a close family relation.  Let's call her AC.  AC understood (once upon a dark time ago) that I was deeply unhappy and was one of the few who encouraged me to break out of that unfair staleness I was in.  Her plans included a long term stay in my now country of residence (but who would have known then ...?)  A 'time out' and an opportunity to distance myself from the manipulation and incessant hassling of X.

I suppose having solved one quandary, she hadn't banked on the fact that my hurts came along with me.  Although I was geographically removed from X's bribes, pleas, tricks and emotional and mental manipulation - a life I had chosen to walk away from, my emotions were naturally raw. I was given up my security and routine (lifeless as they were) and now I didn't quite know what to do with myself.  No distraction to shift my attention from how I truly felt.  Like I mentioned in my previous blog, it was bloody hard business.  All I knew was to learn to live with the pain one day at a time.  I did however found myself glad to be put to task.  For in those brief moments I forgot my pain by concentrating on something else. 

And so the relationship grew.  Initially, out of need.  I was in pieces and I relied on her for encouragement.  But as time passed and I grew stronger able to stand on my own two feet, she began to feel threatened.  She found she too had learnt to rely on me more than she allowed herself to.  Her partner felt that I had taken over her home. And things soon took a turn for the worst.  She soon found all sorts of faults about me - things she never found cause to complain about (or maybe she did but bit her tongue out of compassion).  My parents got the brunt of her complaining habit.  It got to a point where whatever I did or did not was damned.  She began spinning tales about what I was not. A liar. A thief.

Admittedly, I was in still a bit of a haze having just emerged from the raw depths of my emotions.  Bewildered, I couldn't understand what had caused that drastic change of 'face'.  Were I in her capable shoes,  I would rejoice that my closest ally have overcome the worst and is now making headway upwards. But it was like she had gone mad.  From my closest ally she has now drawn the lines of battle and I was declared public enemy number one in their books.  

Looking back, I can only conclude that some 'friends' are only good for bad times.  They are the most helpful and seemingly understanding while you're in dire straits.  But once you get stronger and your progress no longer makes them feel almightily smug about themselves, you are no longer fit for their purpose. And so, they turn against you.  This has roots in envy and insecurities of an individual shroud in a veil of capable competitiveness. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not being ungrateful.  I am and will always be indebted to AC and all that she's done.  But with her turning hostile at my positive progress I now have learned to keep my distance.  Terrified almost of what she would stir up next. 

Sadly, we are no longer in touch.  But I have learned in any journey upwards and onwards, one has to let go of things toxic (this include experiences and people).  Life is short. I've wasted more than enough time tending and mending toxic people bent on bullying anyone into submission.  And from experiences, these toxic energy sappers are never satiated until you're thoroughly spent.  

Rather than go down that route again, I choose instead to focus on being happy.  This means surrounding myself with people who actually care.  For those the likes of AC, I choose instead to remember them in their kindest.  I have  since been blessed that my journey upwards and onwards have led me to the truest of friends.  Kind honest people who appreciate who you are - warts and all.  People who are constantly encouraging and rejoices when you triumph.  One of the kindest is now my husband.  A man who promised on our first date that he would always be kind. He's since spent every day ensuring that he lives up to his promise.

Dreaming with one's eyes wide open ...

 

That what it feels like now.  Being here in my new country of residence, with BFL, living each day of the rest of our lives together.  Some moments are more profound than others.  For example the moment of yesterday when we took a walk around countryside.  It wasn't exactly the most stunning of winter days.  In fact, it was rather dull and gray (as the weather usually is).  The ground was wet and muddy.  I got stuck in a few times (thank god for gum boots - which have since escalated into one of my favourite things!), having farm animals to humour and 'chat' to - other than the significant other who was by my side holding my hand.  

It was bliss.  I've always dreamed of a life like this.  The beauty of the country side, the long walks, most of all, someone wonderful to share it with.  I couldn't help but marvel that THIS is what it is like to be dreaming with one's eyes wide open.  I'm awake.  I feel and sense every moment. It is real. Though not without its share of challenges, I wouldn't want to live life any other way than what it is.  With BFL.

To think, just a few years ago I was struggling simply to find a purpose simply to live.  The person I was with then wasn't exactly cruel in an outright way but he knew how to manipulate and inflict pain to a vast extent.  Emotionally, mentally and at times physically.  I knew what I wanted in life.  To be appreciated for who I am warts and all, to have a family of my own and a cosy and happy home. But I was in a place where everything wasn't.  It was hell. And I knew I had to get out. 

By God's grace I did.  Getting out was only the beginning of that journey upwards and onwards.  There were moments when I did wonder whether my life then had ended.  Better the devil you know that the devil you don't.  It was the first time in my life I didn't have a job, though my savings were substantial,  it was the security of an income and a place I was familiar with to give up (which something tells me only temporarily), venture out and away and pursue my heart's dreams.  Who knew what lay beyond that ... I had nothing to lose but to find out for myself.

And venture, I did.  I wouldn't be as brave had it not been for the support of my parents, aunt and good friends.  They rallied me on particularly when there were moments where I felt like giving up and returning.  They knew better I suppose ... that with a man as insidiously manipulative and obsessive, he would soon be on my case and I would be back to square one.

So I travelled for a few months.  Visited places that I've always wanted to see in real life.  Machu Picchu, down the Danube and the cities along that lovely river, more countries in Europe ... though not in that order,  my adventures were amazing, to say the least. For brief moments being so far away helped me forget the extent of my hurts.

Having said that, distraction isn't the way upwards and onwards.  It was having the chance to take stock of life's setbacks from a removed vantage point and sieve through all the issues and content that matters.  It was, to say the least, bloody hard and painful busines.  But the experience helped me in understanding the truth about myself and life's realities.  Interestingly, that was when life began to turn around. It was when I learned to simply let go,  just be and trust and hope that everything will eventually turn out fine.

And it has!  More that fine, I must (enthusiastically) add.  It has turned out amazing ... and for that, I'm eternally grateful and hopeful that it will always be upwards and onwards - in our lives as a couple.  So here's always to 'second chances' (written rhetorically) and a life worth living!

The first weekend of the new year ...

We're having a wonderful first weekend of 2013.  Had a haircut with BFL followed by a sumptious lunch and a spot of shopping in between - and on sale too! Am quite a bargain hunter ... but having said that, it doesn't feel quite right buying things when am not working.

But like BFL gently assures, one needs a treat ever so often.  Though I've been rather good all this while resisting the winter sale,  I've succumbed on the account of the Chinese New Year (CNY) - which falls in the first week of February.  I am after all, half chinese ... so I console m myself. However, comparing to most Chinese, my 'hybrid' of a family have always celebrated the new year in a modest manner.  There were no streams of guests - people coming out of the wood works paying you visits, 15 days of feasting on food and treats you won't otherwise eat except during the new year, hanging up trays of red decorations and burning truckloads of firecrackers and fireworks.  What my mother made sure however was that we children had at least a couple new outfits to usher in the new year and a good sit down dinner as a family. 

It's interesting too how now that I'm in my new country of residence I've begun to take note of cultural rituals that I once took for granted.  Mum was always in charge ... and we (my siblings and I) merely towed the line.  Now that I am in charge of introducing my new family and friends to cultural festivities of the Far East,  I find the need to know my roots with depth just so that I am able to paint a richer picture about the significance of certain cultural events.

Somehow also, knowing and observing these rituals makes me feel closer to home and my side of the family even if I'm now thousands of miles away from my former country of origin ...

It's a juggling effort this process of adaptation ... On one hand, it is about knowing oneself better with deeper depth while on the other it's about learning and taking on new experiences, making new friends and learning to make this new country my new home.  Interestingly, it's about staying the same and moving forward at the same time.  I just found out (for the sake of this blog) that the new chinese new year would be the year of snakes ...!

2013: A property search ...

And so we have it ... a fresh new year! While many would simply argue its merely the same ol' rigmarole. Year in. Year out of the similar routines ... I found myself visiting estate agents enquiring about 3-4 bedroom residential houses for sale.

At my age, one would have thought that I probably would have some experiences in the area but this venture was indeed first of its kind in my personal books.  Mainly because my experiences with properties it was always been for a client and never for my own. Secondly, I was running a search in my newly adopted country of residence.  For me, it was as much of a learning experience as it was for the estate agents in understanding my needs. So there I was, giving my details to various estate agents.  By the third agents, I got to know their line of queries well enough.

Was there any difference between how things were done in my former country of residence and my present?  Not a vast amount ... But admittedly, being new to this country I found myself a little reserved and to some extent somewhat unsure of myself.  I am not sure if that came across to the agents but I found myself later musing as to why I felt that way.

It is only natural to harbour some kind of hesistance in a novel situation.  But why did that translate into a kind of awe of estate agents and the entire experience of making a simple query?   While they dealt with me very professionally, some friendlier than others I did find myself puzzled at the fact that I felt almost scared by some.

Was it my imagination - one conjured up by my insecurities and my lack of experiences? Or was it actually real? Brought about by my ethnicity, my accent and the way I dressed and carried myself. 

Erring on the side of optimism, I can only conclude that it was conjured.  Even if it were real - since prejudice does exist to a greater or lesser extent whether we like it or not.  Honestly, I have no real reason to be feeling like thus. For one, I am a potential income earner for not only these estate agents. It is through the completion of transactions such as mine that earns the company and agents their commissions and fees. If it weren't for potential buyers like me, they would be out of the job.

Could it also be that the entire query and viewing experience unearthed an old memory of how a coerced property purchase led to an unravelling of a former marriage?  Though that wasn't the sole reason for divorce - it was the 'straw that broke the camel's back'.   Where decisions were made without prior consultation and consent and I was expected to finance half of the purchase. 

That must be it ... since it's made my stomach somewhat queasy...

It's happen so many years ago now.  A decade almost.  I am well over it.  Yet I am surprised by the human psyche - how the brain works on past experiences. While logic and (I dare say healthy) state of emotions reasons that this experience is undoubtedly done in much happier and exciting circumstances of our lives together, some reservations remains.  It's almost like being reminded of a faint rub of a stain - stubbornly lingering on.

And so I confront these 'rubs' by writing...  

Soon the BFL will be back and I will have a chance to discuss with him my property discoveries.  This has been something we both look forward to and have discussed for some months now.  Our long time plans for the future. To find a place where our family can grow supported by the ample facilities and amenities.   

This time it is a choice of action happily embraced by both parties and in circumstances far different from previous.  On that note, I ought to be thrilled and excited at the prospect of searching for new properties.  And indeed I am!

Now that I understand my reservations - especially how shadows of past have crept unconsciously and unceremoniously into the present.  I shall have to be more proactive in making 'sleeping dogs lie' and not let past unpleasantness 'rain on our parade'.

BFL (wonderful as he is) promised to fulfil my dream of a kitchen with an island and a small garden to potter.  I have no reasons to doubt him nor have good reasons to let past unpleasantness affect my enthusiasm for the future. So here's to exciting year ahead! Onwards, Upwards ... :)