Pardon?

For years Dan has been teasing me that I'm deaf, using sign language to tell me to turn the volume down and talking to me in his 'deaf' voice. Still, it was a bit of a shock when I went for a hearing test and got told that I've got severe hearing loss. The condition is permanent, and will worsen. I was scanned for brain tumors and tested for other nasty things. Thankfully, it's just deafness due to nerve damage. Hearing aids will help. 

Navigating the medical process has been like changing broadband supplier. Without the purchasing power of a central 'NHS' I have had to shop around for the best deal, seeing what my insurance might or might not cover and talking to people who would be better suited selling mobile phones to teenagers.  

$3k worth of heading aid, barely noticeable!

Now I can hear coins in my pocket, birds in the morning and people peeing loudly in cubicles next to me. I'm refusing to get too worried by what other people think. There are worse things. It makes me smile that people see a hearing aid and talk loudly at my face. I want to ask them why they don't write in big letters for people who wear glasses. My hearing aid comes with an app so I can control the sound, and am able to press the mute button when I hear Trump's voice on TV or radio (every cloud, and all that).

Seeing the Sport Relief adverts made Annie want to do something, so she organised a mile run for her friends, and we all raised 200 pounds. I am so proud of her sense of social justice - I've got no doubt that our girl is on a mission to change the world one step at a time. 

Former ex-pat (exexpat?) Julia came back for a week to her old stomping ground so it was only right that we went for some cocktails and got ourselves a hangover, for old times sake.

Tom's wonderful pre-school goes above and beyond for Mother's Day - and my beautiful boy got to pick my outfit for the morning's celebrations. Love it!

One of many people practicing yoga in the Golden Gate Park at the Wanderlust Festival.

Shoreline - one of our favourite places.

Half term day out at Fitzgerald Reserve

Last week I returned from the UK having spent a week there for my grandmothers funeral. It's fair to say that my Mum's mother, Rita, was a real character. She once asked my Dad to put a ceiling fan in her bedroom. She made him some tea as he worked and held the step ladder for him. Once it was done he asked her what she thought. She said ‘its good Peter, but you’ve put it in the wrong bedroom.’ Although her funeral was a sad day, we laughed so much over stories like these, a collective showcase of why she was so affectionately loved. My Nan was our family matriarch, and lived for her family - nothing else mattered.  It was a real honour to deliver her eulogy, and despite the grief, I enjoyed every minute of being back in Wales.

My incredible inlaws came to meet me from the plane, and we got to enjoy a few hours together over lunch before travelling to Wales.

Rita's grandchildren all together - Mike, Joanne, me and Steve

On my Dad's side of the family are the Edwards', always side by side; me, Jon, my brother, Andrea, Nicola and Simon

I had traveled to the UK via BA and I was bowled over when a good friend pulled a few strings to get me upgraded to first class.

Me, Pinot Noir, Steak and Uncle Bryn.

The view over San Francisco from one of my two windows!

It is not every day you get plucked from 42C and taken to 4K whilst taxiing down the runway, and it's likely it will never happen to me again, so I made the most of it in my beach boys t-shirt, flip flops and baseball cap (quite the Californian!). The captain introduced himself to me and offered his condolences on behalf of BA - oh how my Nan would have loved that! The return journey in 42C was not as relaxing because I had to change my hearing aid battery at the plane gate and had no idea how dodgy it would look fumbling with something metal in my bag and sticking it into my ear. 

Dan was an incredible single Dad in my absence but even his beady eyes didn't detect the head lice breeding in our children's hair. I can think of better ways of welcoming Mummy home!

A lice infestation - the whole apartment cleaned twice and two professional treatments to get rid of the persistent buggars. I told my Dad that I had come home to head lice and he said 'well Loul, that is what happens when you fly first class'.

There is no greater challenge to living overseas than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Knowing my grandmother needed her family around her and being too far away to be with her was hard. I'm frustrated not to be there to support my Mum right now.  

Two places in the world to call home means that when life in one home gets tough, you want to be in the other home. You make assumptions about greener grass, you test the 'what if' hypothesis, and draw up pros and cons. Having the choice and freedom to live in two places comes with blessings and pressure. An enhanced life in so many ways, but a nagging guilt at not being where you should be when it matters.

On my last night in Wales my brother and I went to pick up a local Chinese takeaway, where the restaurant logo is a classy blend of a Welsh and Chinese dragon. The lady behind the counter talked to me like we had known each other for years. I added on a 10 pound tip during payment, but she looked horrified by this gesture, staring at me like I was trying to buy her. I quickly took my tip back before somebody in the waiting area hit me (there were a few raised eyebrows). The chef came out of the kitchen saying something that would have got her arrested for racism in California. They don't have a telephone system, so answer a call and put the phone down on the counter until they are free to talk. I'm not sure how, but you can get your takeaway delivered for as little as a pound. A lot of people bought curry and chips. We all got free 'pop' with our orders, the chef ran over to our car to give us ours as we had forgotten it.

There is nowhere in the world like Wales, and it's who I am. I wouldn't get that heart hugging sensation if I lived there, or visited regularly. You see it's really true that you can take the girl out of Wales, but you can't take Wales out of the girl. Two places to call home in the world means you can really appreciate what you have been missing.

Now, that's something to turn the hearing aid volume up for!

Rita Daymond
My Nan. My Nanny 'Round the Corner' (sometimes my Nanny 'Round the Bend')