Back after five years

France? Err, nope. But it did look and feel like it. At least for a day. When we landed in England a couple of mornings ago, we really felt like we were in the wrong place - except for the accent; Mancunian is pretty unmistakable. But beyond that, skies were blue, weather was fine and dare I say warm and yes, when I found myself having lunch (and the obligatory cup of tea for some) outside on the patio with birds chirping nearby, actually seeking out shade from the parasol because the sun was hot, it felt like I was in France.

Of course, one night later we woke up to the usual British fare: grey, cold, miserable and drizzly. I guess it didn't want to see us disappointed.

Found an osteopath in Canada and after two visits it all felt quite promising. Twelfth vertebrae was out of alignment and the surrounding tissue and muscles so tight it took three people to sort me out. But better I felt for it and I really thought the days of the big back crisis were over. But it wasn't to be. Our last evening in Montreal turned out to be awfully painful and it lasted through the night, the morning and all the way onto the first plane. In flight to Chicago it got worse and everything started spinning and I threw up once more (had done about three times already at home since it had started). Very embarrassing thing in public, I find. Anyway, after filling two little paper bags, the spasm abated like magic and I was fine for the rest of the flight as well as for the one after. Go figure.

Thank the gods Lily travels so well. It makes it easier on the both of us. We do have to remember to never do this route again though. Montreal - Chicago - Manchester is just frustratingly long and O'Hare sucks big time as far as airports go.

What made it worse I suppose was the news my mom got the morning we left. After a visit to a specialist for some tests, including an ECG and ultrasound, we found out she's suffering from a stenose aortique. Looks pretty bad and it's not something she can ignore or go on for long without surgery. It was a real nice closure to our holiday with her. (NOT.) She needs to meet with a cardiologist and we'll know more in a week or two. It was hard to just leave her there and get on that plane, I tell you. It's not every day you learn you may have six to ten years left and she's understandably scared by the idea of open-heart surgery. Who can blame her? Her partner died on the table of the very same thing. It was also a bit of a double whammy for her, with Lily and us leaving. She kept clinging to the idea she wasn't going to see us nor Lily again. It's a strange thing. I had prepared myself... as in, I have two grand-parents still living but they're pushing their nineties and I figured this would be the last time I would see them (and this would be the one and only time they would meet Lily, hence the trip). It just never really occured to me it could apply to my mom.

Celebrated our ninth wedding anniversary yesterday. Awww.

Lily is growing and changing and seems to be adapting very well to this travelling around thre world and meeting so many new faces. A real jetsetter.

That's it. Net access is rare and far between while we're in the UK so I best be on my way.

Hope all is well with you guys.
Take care, y'all.