i don't quite know

where to start, exactly.

How about some pictures of my most recent adventure?

This weekend, we stayed at my sister-in-law's house. She lives on the outskirts of London, so on Friday, we took the National Rail (sort of like the Metra, for you city people) in to London Victoria (the main train station in London) and then took the tube to Notting Hill and Portobello Road.

If you've seen the movie 'Notting Hill' you probably know what I'm talking about.

If not, it's one of the biggest and most popular outdoor markets in London.
Every Friday and Saturday, vendors come and set up tables with all of their items to sell.

(Kirra, you would have died. It was antique heaven.)

Anyway, it was raining (of course) and we were hungry, so we ducked into a cute little pub for some lunch.

This is the "Salon" where we ate. So very English, and very cozy. We loved it.

You pick a table, and then order your food at the bar and give them your table number. That way, they'll bring your food out to you when it's ready.
We were table 3.

This is me and Jessica, my sister-in law.
Love it.
We get along really well, which is great, and she and her husband have been so gracious to let us come and spend weekends with them in their lovely house.

My cutie husband.
He is so happy to be back in the motherland.

Our first major stop was this man selling all sorts of incredible old books.
This is a catholic prayer book, I think.

Here we have some Oliver Twist, and some Sherlock Holmes.
I could have spent some major money here, except that he wanted nearly 75 pounds for each book, which comes out to about $115.
No thanks.

It was about this point that he started yelling at me for taking pictures, and I put my camera away for the rest of the trip.
There was so much more I wanted to shoot, but I didn't feel like offending any more Brits.

We also went to Covent Gardens, and this amazing candy shop where I bought "chocolate fudge" that was really more like a big tootsie roll.
A little disappointing, but that's alright.
It's the experiences that count.

I love this chair, which is in the living room of Jessica's house, and where I am currently crafting this post.
Plus, there was nice lighting.

And this is what the weather looks like outside...and, let's be honest, what it's looked like for the past two weeks.

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I've got Coldplay in the background, and I am literally choking on the emotion and memories that it's carrying with it. Add to that the fact that I am pregnant and homesick, and it's almost a wonder that tears aren't falling down my cheeks yet.

I miss home.

And the most awful part?
I don't even know where home is anymore.

You can blather on about how home is the people around you, and home is where the heart is, and home is where you lay your head at night, but I don't think any of these are right.
Because if this were the case, my home would be about three different places and none of them feel right.

And I guess that's what I'm waiting for, and it's what I've been waiting for.
A place that feels like home, and can feel like home, and that will feel like home.

I know that God never promised that all of this would be easy.
In fact, I don't think that's what I'm asking for.
I think I'm simply asking for the reassurance that one day, I will have my place.
Someday, I will look around me and think, "Yes. Here we are. We're home."

Until then, I'll be here.
Posting pictures of the story of a girl who is trying to find her place in the world, and boy who is sticking beside her the whole way through.

Love, love.
-C