I have been trying to adjust. Really I have. The first week was spent altering my time clock from sitting in traffic in Warrick Avenue to sitting in the still warm, crystal clear waters of Golden Bay. Going from £2.50 a pound to 50p a pound for fresh Tuna, farmed just off Comino. Contemplating my finances as I try to fit in work, to fund this 'typical' Mediterranean lifestyle, and come to terms with the 'I don't like work' ethic!!

Our London life arrived in a box, picked up from a warehouse south of the island. I convinced the father-in-law that my Ikea desk was in fact an Airfix kit, but with screws and wooden bits to hold it all together. He of course still believes to this moment they forgot to pack the wings. Also in this batch of cartons are some shelves. Not quite sure on the work around to get these put up, but will try to integrate with the 'missing' wings story. Other vital items with this consignment were the Bugaboo Frog, best left for assembly later,and a summer Parasol for much later as this too requires some minor effort. Finally, two very large boxes of 'stuff' arrived. Quite what I'm going to do with this I don't know as they really are not into car boot sales over here.


An IKEA aeroplane with wings!!

Jnr is now 27 weeks. At a recent scan we were told again jnr has long thigh bones. I think that means a tall baby!? Have also been attending ante-natal classes at St Lukes *(see below) I enjoyed it today as they showed a decent horror film. Lots of panting and people being opened up. I was told to pay attention.

After two weeks of cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, sticky brown parcel tape, shipping deals, shipping boxes, Stella in an unhealthy quantity, a rapidly increasing weight problem, it's done.

We finally handed over the keys to 8b Heber road after refusing to throw anything away, and dumping Mrs F with possibly the entire contents of four Oxfam shops. This is my last day in London for a while (see below) and the good ladies last for a while. Talking of the better half, it's now into week 25, and she is a bit like an old wooden ship. Creaking. Groaning. Slowly taking on board the new cargo. 'I donna know if she can take it' I think Scotty once said. How true.

Flight out Wednesday noon! More baggage than, well, a baggage shop, and armed with Waitrose dried mango pieces, just in case there's a craving. BIG respect to Keith and Dave. Would have gone totally insane without you!!



A lady packing... ahem

Dates for moving are as follows:

Empty flat: 1st October 2005

Stay with Mrs Fereday: 1st - 5th October 2005

British Airways get us out of here: 5th October 2005

Back for a bit more: 31st October 2005 - 7th November 2005

Back 9th December 2005 - December 14th 2005

Next planned return 29th April 2006 +1


more later

Well, we have now reached the halfway point. Week 21 and all's well. Isabel is now complaining of a number of things I list these in order of grievance.

1. Nothing fits. Well, this doesn't really surprise me. Just about to go out and I'm told that everything Isabel owns, makes her look pregnant. Ahem.

2. It's awake. It's asleep. Put you hand there, I just felt something. So I sit there. Did you feel that? No! Did you feel that? No! Just wait a minute, did you feel that then!? No! This takes place on a regular basis at 9.00am as I'm about to head out for work. I'm just waiting for the day when I do feel 'that' and it's a right hook!

3. Food. I am mean, if you know me, you'll know about this passion of mine. I do not appreciate cravings for a Big Mac even if they do make salads. I do not even really care if it's convenient, fast… whatever. I won't be frequenting these 'restaurants' with Jnr, and I don't expect to start now. Fair point? We went to Burger King instead.

Mother and unborn doing well. Jnr has longer than average legs, a long, as opposed to round, head. And before you ask, we don't know, and won't be asking. m/f


Junior at 21 weeks... can ya see what it is yet?

Despite everything, a successful trip. Isabel is now 19 weeks and I'm one step closer to AA.

I returned back having scrutinised all of the finest medical care available in Mata, from private water births to public earth births, no relatives allowed.

The latter sounded like the most ideal, and what more, the state hospital is gratis. This option does not sit well with the good lady however who has pointed out the lack of room service, infact the lack of a room (only a shared ward), and the rather dilapidated condition of Malta General.

I suppose she does have a point. I can still see the aging building at the forefront of my nightmares. I've driven a dilating Isabel to the hospital, avoided potholes, sheep and boy racers. I enter the maternity unit and trip over a stray limb from some poor unfortunate. The entire building falls down around me. I'm left to go and buy a tin of paint, in eggshell, and perhaps some bricks… then I wake up. mmm.

Also, as I'm sure you can imagine, Albert Roux is not responsible for the catering or the stocking of the mini bar. I've missed aromas like that since primary school, thankfully!

Baby is due 17/01-2006 and it will most likely arrive here at Saint James Hospital, Zabbar, Malta



A dilapidated building yesterday, not in Malta!!

So. I guess if I'm going to keep a page like this, then I have to keep 'it' informed. Fill in all the details and dot all the i's. What happens next. Most will know of 'the plan' or will have suffered me telling them all about 'the plan' More often than not this is in The Crown. Beer involved. Messy



The Crown, Cricklewood, just to remind me...

Malta beckons. Jnr apparently wants to emerge here, with the family in attendance, I hope, no videos! This presents adventures and nightmares. Relocation horror, have you been to my flat? Tonight I visit Malta for 10 days. Holiday? I don't think so…