A fairy tale. That is what some of my more romantically inclined friends called it when, at the ripe old age of forty-four, I unexpectedly announced my engagement. I was a confirmed old maid, happy to play the role of the fun auntie and content with my quiet little life. I had my family, my friends, my little dog, and life was peaceful and good. I’d long declared myself too set in my ways to ever consider marriage so very few people suspected that the relationship with “my friend in England” had grown and matured beyond that of mere friendship. We had kept it quiet, wanting to give ourselves time without the close scrutiny and speculation bound to come if one and all knew we were more than just friends, until the day came when we discovered we no longer wanted to live thousands of miles apart and travel singly through life. “My friend in England” had become my best friend in all the world and it seemed impossible to continue life without him. And so in the space of a year everything changed. I, who for twenty years worked diligently at changing as little as possible, changed everything. I quit my job, sold my car, sold nearly everything and left family and friends far behind to marry a man from the United Kingdom.

But what happens after that fairy tale ending? In the movies it would probably end with the wedding, the happily ever after moment that is the climax of so many fairy tales. I’m one of those people who always wants to know what happened next. It’s one of the reasons why I’m such a fan of Jane Austen. She understood that desire to know what happened after the wedding and often concluded her novels with a short sum-up chapter in which she quickly outlined a brief sketch of the lives of so many of those characters we’d come to know during the course of the story.

I can’t even begin to compare myself to Miss Austen, but I shall claim her as an inspiration and devote this blog to chronicle the “what happens next” of my fairy tale. The first half of my life ended when my dog and I boarded the British Airways flight in Seattle one hot day in July of 2013. The second half of my life began the next day when I walked into my husband’s arms in the arrivals area at London’s Heathrow airport.

This is the story of a new beginning and all of the joys and frustrations that are a part of adjusting to marriage and life in a new country. This is the story of how life can surprise you with new experiences and adventures at any age. This is the story of an American wife in Wiltshire.