Back to life
As the mermaid is back to her sea, she can sing again. After years of silence here I am again to share my world with you. This time not "somewhere far in the South" though - too many sharks 😆 - I am in the foggy Albion, that suits my mood more for now. It is not easy to emigrate. We know from family chronicles that my great auntie was washing dishes for 5 years before she could finally work on her field as a ballet teacher when she arrived West Germany at the age of forty. As Ginger Rogers did everything what Fred Astaire did - backwards, in stilettoes - I'm emigrating with a 10 years old and a 4 months old. Why am I doing it? Why am I taking the pain of insecurity, waiting for months for basic things like a school or a proper home? Of course it is for my children's future, but really it might have been more rationalistic to wait for another year for better circumstances. But there was this drive that ejected us from Hungary and it grew even stronger with the baby