starting point

Let's get this straight: I like living in England. I love my little semi-detached, I love the changing seasons, I love that I can walk a lot of places. I love that I can do online shopping and that I don't need to necessarily fly to go somewhere different. I love that I can take my dog on holiday. I love the personal freedom of living in the UK - a personal freedom not appreciated until you live somewhere else.
The problem is that I love a man with permanently itchy feet. And, like a bad case of athlete's foot, it cross-contaminates us all.
After a two year stint in the Middle East, I swore I wasn't ever leaving home again. In fact, I packed off Dearly Beloved (DB) to Mozambique all by himself with one towel (not the good ones!) and something vague in the form of `see you in 6 months-ish!' But the reality of living as a single parent took its toll and I decided to bite the bullet and join DB a year ago.
I left one daughter behind at university and took along a teenager and a toddler.
Now I live in a sub-tropical country, in a large company provided house, with a maid and a gardener and great schools for my children.
I buy mosquito repellent by the bucket-load, get excited if I find risotto rice in the supermarket and fail to make my employees listen to me (more about that some other time).
I am the reluctant expat.