There have been a lot of numbers going through my head recently. It seems like they just roll around and then fly away, never to be seen in the same way again. One minute you’ve just met someone, and the next you’re closing in on four years of togetherness. It’s nice to pause every now and then and reflect on the numbers as they travel in opposite directions.

three years ago

three years ago

Earlier this year, I crossed the line of having been married for three years. It sort of blows my mind. I think this is when we reach the phase where we’re no longer considered newlyweds. For as quickly as we met and married (nine months, for those who like counting as much as I do) it is crazy to realize that we’ve been married longer now than some of our married friends have known each other.

celebrating 3 years as expats

celebrating 3 years as expats

Closely tied to our third wedding anniversary, was our third anniversary of being expats. When I met B, I never imagined I would end up married to him and in Germany, and when we moved to Germany I never imagined we would follow that up by moving to Turkey. The last three years have been a crazy adventure, but this expat is fatigued y’all. She’s ready for the familiar comforts of home.

SAM_3126One number that we’ve been counting for close to 20 months now, is our time left in Turkey. It didn’t take long after stepping off the plane to realize that we were tired of being overseas. Combine that with B’s struggles at work. We are now somewhere between 95 and 108 days left in the country. I honestly won’t get more specific than that for OPSEC reasons. But within the next 100 days or so, I will be on US soil, meeting my nephew, buying a car, and moving to my new home. I have to admit that I’m pretty stoked.

Do you like to count up milestones and anniversaries or do you prefer to count down toward dates and events?

~The Countess~


About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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