Sim Carter: Past Tense Imperfect

It's the strangest thing.  When we landed at Gatwick Airport, I proudly went through the line labeled for those arriving passengers bearing passports from the U.K. or the EU, while my American husband went through the much longer 'all the rest of you suckers' line. My little old British-born heart felt all funny, swollen with British pride. I held my maroon colored passport with the royal insignia conspicuously facing out so that it showed, so there would be no mistake. I wasn't from France, Spain, Germany or any of those other EU countries. I was from the UK. Ignore my American accent. I was English. A True Brit.  When it was my turn to approach the counter, practically waving my passport in the air, I got a ridiculous lump in my throat.  "I haven't been here since 1989." I told the official, getting all blubbery. "Thirty years! I was born here, but I haven't been back in almost 30 years!" I added needlessly and surely overstaying my...

Star & Garter Hospital, Richmond Hill, 1915 I’m taking a virtual walking tour ‘above ground’ on the London Underground. Using  my Tube guide and my fitbit® device, my goal is to walk at least 10,000 steps a day roughly following along the Underground route, reporting back here on Fridays with my findings. This is  Day Ten. What was it John Lennon said,  “ Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans? ”  I ’ ve been here in an imaginary version of London, one where it never rains until after sundown and by 8am the morning fog has disappeared, taking a make believe walk  ‘ Above ground on the London Underground ’  for awhile now. I started out at Heathrow , following the Picadilly Line route, but found myself taking a detour to Richmond,  irresistibly  drawn to the house where I was born. Now,  despite my plan to get back on the Picadilly track, I find I can’t leave. Life stepped in with other plans.  The real me...