Boo-hoo. Woe is me.

I had the weirdest, surreal experience last night.

I finally decided to take the remaining pictures off my digital camera and organize them in some form and fashion.

I looked at my pictures of the Norfolk coast (see below) and loved the way it was like (and not like) the Jersey Shore. Actually, being in England is like living in (and not living in) the United States. A little like Alice stepping through the looking glass. There is so much that is similar: our language, our television shows, our radio stations, yet...The thatched-roof houses, the flint and brick churches say, "You're not in Kansas anymore, Dorothy. This is East Anglia."

Weirder still were the final pictures I took in Sarajevo. I remember taking Veli for our last walk(s) down our street: the night before we left and in the early morning hours before we drove to the airport. The pictures, alas, are not very good, but they are the final images I have of our city: the graffiti on the wall and the distant lights of Park Princeva, a restaurant with the most extraordinary view of Sarajevo.

At times, Sarajevo seem like a dream. And at other times it seems like we're on one long vacation and that we should be going back any day...Our kitchen is waiting for us just like our dining room and our living room. Then I remember we left the keys on the table, and, more likely then not, some other people--strange people--are cooking on our stove and sitting on our couch.

I'm sure one of these days England will feel real. But living on base is like living in limbo. So, stay tuned. Exciting adventures ahead. Cross fingers.