Today is our last day in Luxembourg - it is very strange to type that. To comprehend that in 25 hours we will be getting on a plane and leaving here and not coming back.
Wow.
Yes, I realize that I should have been aware that this day was coming, but now that it is here it feels really... strange.
While logistically these last few days here were necessary they've made leaving harder - I think if we'd just gone on the 3rd when we vacated the house it would have been all the gut-wrenching at the same time. Coming back for two days and now 3 makes it feel a little less real somehow.
But it did mean that we got to see Cathie for dinner last night and will be hitting the Schuberfouer this aft/evening to say a few more goodbyes.
But on to logistics - we have 5 bags to sort through (I can't wait for the container to arrive in Ottawa and to stop living out of suitcases!) and stuff to try and get rid of because we are WAY over our baggage allowance.
So Addi Letzebuerg - where the sun is actually shining for once.
More from the other side of the Atlantic in a few days/weeks... lots of vacation stories to tell!!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
I have to start going to bed before midnight
because I have been very grumpy the past few mornings. But I need to let my toe polish dry (Greece tomorrow - sandals!!) so I thought I would post a quick update.
The move was eventually over. They were supposed to be finished packing at 4:30 on Thursday and load on Friday morning. They were still packing at 4:30 on Friday and the loading guy had taken over the packing (why didn't they send him on day one?). Anyhow it got done. I am just terrified of what it's going to look like on the other end.
Had a lovely night at Hotel Parc Belair, inclusive of dessert and coffee with Marie, Andres and Noah (who dozed most of the time) in the Parc and then got up for our Scandinavian adventure.
More details about our wonderful trip to follow in following posts... can I tell you (briefly - as brief as I can be) about getting there?
Marc gets the suitcase rammed on his toe getting into the elevator (kids fighting over who was going to press the button, I stepped back... ugly scene) We are late for airport (we are usually never late because Marc is always early, but usually there is no one there so we opted for the 1 hour check-in (ok in Lux). Long-term parking is full. Kindly man finds us a spot.
There are hundreds of people checking in. HUNDREDS. I've never seen so many people in the Luxembourg airport, I am sure it was some kind of record. Finally get called to the front of the line to check in. Phew. Then not so Phew. Only 3 of us can get on, the flight is overbooked to Copenhagen. We end up having to split up, Marc taking the kids and luggage (it was his friend we were going to stay with) and I was to follow via Paris to Stockholm and arrive 3 hours later.
Not so bad until I get the text messages about the luggage - Marc saw it refused for his flight ("Last call passenger...") and asked them to redirect it to my flight - which was leaving only 15 minutes later.
Want to hear about how I ran around Charles de Gaulle trying to find out where our luggage was? Naw, didn't think so. Or that my cell phone (or the extra cell phone - Marc had mine) stopped working because the pre-paid ran out?
There will have to be a post on my adventure buying a FRENCH SIM card for my phone (really, it's a post in it's own) that didn't even work outside of France (why would it? I was leaving the centre of the universe).
I finally got to Stockholm (in Business Class on Air France, TWO glasses of champagne thank you!), shopping on my way out for undies etc. I was bright enough to ask about the luggage (I had the tag numbers) and low and behold - they had ust arrived from Frankfurt with a whole bunch of others that must not have made it to Marc's flight.
I proudly drag the bags out to arrivals and... there's no Marc. Or Peter. That is one I will save for the post about the French SIM card (which wasn't working in Stockholm). Anna was there but we'd never met, and I wasn't supposed to have luggage etc.
Incidentally Marc was at the doctor who wanted to stich his poor toe but it had been more than 6 hours so it was too late.
It all turned out okay in the end. I finally decided to go back to the arrivals thing and wait for someone to find me (Remember learning that as a kid? Don't go anywhere, stay put.) Anna found me.
We are currently at our friend Liz and Andy's house. Got here yesterday evening and are leaving in the morning for Greece. I feel horrible but it hasn't even sunk in, I have so much to get ready in the morning, I just feel like crawling under a rock.
How spoiled does that sound?? I know, I should be smacked, don't like myself much for it.
It's just been hard travelling with two small kids on whacked out schedules and it's been REALLY hard being back in Luxembourg for a few days. Such conflicting feelings, excited to go, sad to leave. Home, yet no longer home. Too many emotions.
And then I had to hand over my car this evening. My 1999 Periwinkle Blue FIAT Bravo that Marc bought when he thought he was only going to be here 6 months. I LOVED that car. I shed not a single tear over the house, but Marc found me in Andy's garage last night hugging the back of my car in floods of tears. I mean floods, like when Juli has a 3 year old meltdown.
Only consolation - it has gone to a very nice family (Canadian) and I know Glenn will take good care of my baby. Even the kids cried and hugged Mama's car.
I think I should go to bed now because I am posting about crying over my car. It's just everything I think, everything all at once, and yet taking so long.
But I promise to write more about my SIM card adventures and all about our Scandinavian trip (which was WONDERFUL) at a later date.
Next post might be from our laptop in Ottawa!!
The move was eventually over. They were supposed to be finished packing at 4:30 on Thursday and load on Friday morning. They were still packing at 4:30 on Friday and the loading guy had taken over the packing (why didn't they send him on day one?). Anyhow it got done. I am just terrified of what it's going to look like on the other end.
Had a lovely night at Hotel Parc Belair, inclusive of dessert and coffee with Marie, Andres and Noah (who dozed most of the time) in the Parc and then got up for our Scandinavian adventure.
More details about our wonderful trip to follow in following posts... can I tell you (briefly - as brief as I can be) about getting there?
Marc gets the suitcase rammed on his toe getting into the elevator (kids fighting over who was going to press the button, I stepped back... ugly scene) We are late for airport (we are usually never late because Marc is always early, but usually there is no one there so we opted for the 1 hour check-in (ok in Lux). Long-term parking is full. Kindly man finds us a spot.
There are hundreds of people checking in. HUNDREDS. I've never seen so many people in the Luxembourg airport, I am sure it was some kind of record. Finally get called to the front of the line to check in. Phew. Then not so Phew. Only 3 of us can get on, the flight is overbooked to Copenhagen. We end up having to split up, Marc taking the kids and luggage (it was his friend we were going to stay with) and I was to follow via Paris to Stockholm and arrive 3 hours later.
Not so bad until I get the text messages about the luggage - Marc saw it refused for his flight ("Last call passenger...") and asked them to redirect it to my flight - which was leaving only 15 minutes later.
Want to hear about how I ran around Charles de Gaulle trying to find out where our luggage was? Naw, didn't think so. Or that my cell phone (or the extra cell phone - Marc had mine) stopped working because the pre-paid ran out?
There will have to be a post on my adventure buying a FRENCH SIM card for my phone (really, it's a post in it's own) that didn't even work outside of France (why would it? I was leaving the centre of the universe).
I finally got to Stockholm (in Business Class on Air France, TWO glasses of champagne thank you!), shopping on my way out for undies etc. I was bright enough to ask about the luggage (I had the tag numbers) and low and behold - they had ust arrived from Frankfurt with a whole bunch of others that must not have made it to Marc's flight.
I proudly drag the bags out to arrivals and... there's no Marc. Or Peter. That is one I will save for the post about the French SIM card (which wasn't working in Stockholm). Anna was there but we'd never met, and I wasn't supposed to have luggage etc.
Incidentally Marc was at the doctor who wanted to stich his poor toe but it had been more than 6 hours so it was too late.
It all turned out okay in the end. I finally decided to go back to the arrivals thing and wait for someone to find me (Remember learning that as a kid? Don't go anywhere, stay put.) Anna found me.
We are currently at our friend Liz and Andy's house. Got here yesterday evening and are leaving in the morning for Greece. I feel horrible but it hasn't even sunk in, I have so much to get ready in the morning, I just feel like crawling under a rock.
How spoiled does that sound?? I know, I should be smacked, don't like myself much for it.
It's just been hard travelling with two small kids on whacked out schedules and it's been REALLY hard being back in Luxembourg for a few days. Such conflicting feelings, excited to go, sad to leave. Home, yet no longer home. Too many emotions.
And then I had to hand over my car this evening. My 1999 Periwinkle Blue FIAT Bravo that Marc bought when he thought he was only going to be here 6 months. I LOVED that car. I shed not a single tear over the house, but Marc found me in Andy's garage last night hugging the back of my car in floods of tears. I mean floods, like when Juli has a 3 year old meltdown.
Only consolation - it has gone to a very nice family (Canadian) and I know Glenn will take good care of my baby. Even the kids cried and hugged Mama's car.
I think I should go to bed now because I am posting about crying over my car. It's just everything I think, everything all at once, and yet taking so long.
But I promise to write more about my SIM card adventures and all about our Scandinavian trip (which was WONDERFUL) at a later date.
Next post might be from our laptop in Ottawa!!
Friday, August 03, 2007
When I get all Europe homesick...
Please refer me back to this post. Really please do because this is a huge part of why we are going home.
Last night I took my allergy pill at 10:30. I guess the movers had the windows open yesterday because by 10:30 (soaking in my wonderful Fruit et Passion bath) I was sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching at my throat because it was so itchy.
It took an hour to kick in and I went to sleep at 11:30 pm.
Only to wake up at 5:30 am - sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching my throat.
Did I mention that they are 24 hour allergy pills? And the strongest thing they will prescribe for me here?
So "BAD" allergy season (as opposed to "good" when the meds mostly work) seems to have started again for me. Which means within a few weeks I will have a sinus infection, that will take until about next spring to finally clear up properly after several doses of antibiotics and cortisone (I have no proof of this other than the last 3 years of the same situation).
So I have taken ANOTHER allergy pill - since I seem to have replaced my nose with a faucet and haven't stopped coughing for the last 1/2 hour. Nose spray seems to have had no effect either.
I am cranky and feel lousy - and this is NOT how I want to live my life. I used to be a fun person. I don't want to be the mum always snipping at her kids because she's feeling lousy (for something stupid like allergies) and I don't want to continue to have to buy purses so large that they can accommodate a roll of toilet paper for nose blowing (since I invariably fail to stock up on enough Kleenex). I don't want to be terrified of opening the windows of my home in case I can't breathe (I am an open window kinda girl and with no forced air in houses over here you have to open your windows or the air gets soooooooo stale).
Anyhow, up and at 'em. My buddies the movers arrive in 30 minutes (and really take the computer this time). Maybe the extra allergy pill will make me dopey and I won't get so frustrated with them :-p
Last night I took my allergy pill at 10:30. I guess the movers had the windows open yesterday because by 10:30 (soaking in my wonderful Fruit et Passion bath) I was sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching at my throat because it was so itchy.
It took an hour to kick in and I went to sleep at 11:30 pm.
Only to wake up at 5:30 am - sniffly, sneezy, coughing and scratching my throat.
Did I mention that they are 24 hour allergy pills? And the strongest thing they will prescribe for me here?
So "BAD" allergy season (as opposed to "good" when the meds mostly work) seems to have started again for me. Which means within a few weeks I will have a sinus infection, that will take until about next spring to finally clear up properly after several doses of antibiotics and cortisone (I have no proof of this other than the last 3 years of the same situation).
So I have taken ANOTHER allergy pill - since I seem to have replaced my nose with a faucet and haven't stopped coughing for the last 1/2 hour. Nose spray seems to have had no effect either.
I am cranky and feel lousy - and this is NOT how I want to live my life. I used to be a fun person. I don't want to be the mum always snipping at her kids because she's feeling lousy (for something stupid like allergies) and I don't want to continue to have to buy purses so large that they can accommodate a roll of toilet paper for nose blowing (since I invariably fail to stock up on enough Kleenex). I don't want to be terrified of opening the windows of my home in case I can't breathe (I am an open window kinda girl and with no forced air in houses over here you have to open your windows or the air gets soooooooo stale).
Anyhow, up and at 'em. My buddies the movers arrive in 30 minutes (and really take the computer this time). Maybe the extra allergy pill will make me dopey and I won't get so frustrated with them :-p
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Now that's classy
I am sitting on my mattress (which is on the floor), laptop on my lap (appropriate, no?) and drinking wine from the bottle.
Yup, right from the bottle. Classy, huh?
Seriously though, I have not turned into a wino (despite my recent Kir Royal fixation - we are obviously out of champagne if I am on the wine). It's just that there are no glasses in my house that I can use and there is less than a glass left in the bottle.
And Marc just left to play pool with the only utensil that could be used to open a beer bottle (no twist tops here!).
So I HAVE to glug my wine from the bottle. Really.
The house is supposed to be fully packed - and is NOT. I am not going to freak, though I did get Marc to call the movers today and complain and now there will be 6 men here tomorrow to get our container loaded - 3 to finish packing and 3 to load.
Hopefully the one who spent 8 hours in my basement, managed to miss a whole store room (???) and still didn't finish what I could have done myself in 3 hours - well hopefully he's on loading instead.
Yes, I am in a lovely mood ;-)
In good news - we sold the car it would appear!! We've been desperate, I had it listed on two popular sites (one where it got checked out 157 times - and no takers!) It's a Lancia Lybra (part of the Fiat/Alfa Romeo family) in great shape with low kilometres, but Burgers don't like Italian cars (so we've been told?) and we couldn't even get used car dealers to take it.
The Auto club told us it was worth 12,000 EUR in a private sale, and 9900 if we were trading it in to a dealer. We put it up and 9,200 and hoped.
Yesterday a colleague of Marc's told us he had found someone in Belgium willing to take it for 5500. Ouch. We agreed seeing as we're leaving in a couple of days (give or take our visits back in between Sweden and Greece and home).
Then last night we get this call from this English guy who wants to buy the car. Really wants to buy it, can he just take it by his mate's garage (his term, the mate that is) and he can only pay us so much now (6500) and more (1200)next month. Total 7700 - not so bad!
So he is supposed to come by at 3pm to get the car to take to his mate. Long story short, he finally shows up at 6 pm. I am having doubts at this point on if we will see our car again so I send Marc with him.
Yeah, that's right, I think the guy might be a criminal stealing our car so I send my husband with him. Brain not fully functional.
He was probably no more than 2 minutes away when I called and said "If it seems weird get out of there - run as fast as you can, you are so much more important than a car".
And proceeded to feel like I was going to be sick until he walked back in 1/2 hour later. Car sold. Guy fine, just a little weird.
And this is why I am drinking wine from a bottle. I am now going to go and use a huge amount of Fruits et Passion bubble bath for my last bath in this house (it's such a waste not to try and finish it) and then I will try to sleep.
By this time tomorrow the car should be sold and we should be in the lovely hotel by the park I have always wanted to stay at... fingers crossed ;-)
And my two angels are sleeping (please oh please let them be asleep) at opposite ends of Stu's mattress in Julia's room. I would check on them, but they're being quiet and I wouldn't want that to stop...
Yup, right from the bottle. Classy, huh?
Seriously though, I have not turned into a wino (despite my recent Kir Royal fixation - we are obviously out of champagne if I am on the wine). It's just that there are no glasses in my house that I can use and there is less than a glass left in the bottle.
And Marc just left to play pool with the only utensil that could be used to open a beer bottle (no twist tops here!).
So I HAVE to glug my wine from the bottle. Really.
The house is supposed to be fully packed - and is NOT. I am not going to freak, though I did get Marc to call the movers today and complain and now there will be 6 men here tomorrow to get our container loaded - 3 to finish packing and 3 to load.
Hopefully the one who spent 8 hours in my basement, managed to miss a whole store room (???) and still didn't finish what I could have done myself in 3 hours - well hopefully he's on loading instead.
Yes, I am in a lovely mood ;-)
In good news - we sold the car it would appear!! We've been desperate, I had it listed on two popular sites (one where it got checked out 157 times - and no takers!) It's a Lancia Lybra (part of the Fiat/Alfa Romeo family) in great shape with low kilometres, but Burgers don't like Italian cars (so we've been told?) and we couldn't even get used car dealers to take it.
The Auto club told us it was worth 12,000 EUR in a private sale, and 9900 if we were trading it in to a dealer. We put it up and 9,200 and hoped.
Yesterday a colleague of Marc's told us he had found someone in Belgium willing to take it for 5500. Ouch. We agreed seeing as we're leaving in a couple of days (give or take our visits back in between Sweden and Greece and home).
Then last night we get this call from this English guy who wants to buy the car. Really wants to buy it, can he just take it by his mate's garage (his term, the mate that is) and he can only pay us so much now (6500) and more (1200)next month. Total 7700 - not so bad!
So he is supposed to come by at 3pm to get the car to take to his mate. Long story short, he finally shows up at 6 pm. I am having doubts at this point on if we will see our car again so I send Marc with him.
Yeah, that's right, I think the guy might be a criminal stealing our car so I send my husband with him. Brain not fully functional.
He was probably no more than 2 minutes away when I called and said "If it seems weird get out of there - run as fast as you can, you are so much more important than a car".
And proceeded to feel like I was going to be sick until he walked back in 1/2 hour later. Car sold. Guy fine, just a little weird.
And this is why I am drinking wine from a bottle. I am now going to go and use a huge amount of Fruits et Passion bubble bath for my last bath in this house (it's such a waste not to try and finish it) and then I will try to sleep.
By this time tomorrow the car should be sold and we should be in the lovely hotel by the park I have always wanted to stay at... fingers crossed ;-)
And my two angels are sleeping (please oh please let them be asleep) at opposite ends of Stu's mattress in Julia's room. I would check on them, but they're being quiet and I wouldn't want that to stop...
I don't think the same way
as my movers do.
And there's a language issue that I wasn't expecting because the main gy is from Cap Vert (really nice guy btw) and has only been here 6 months and barely speaks French. And I don't speak Portuguese (I think that's what they speak in Cap Vert? I may be showing my ignorance)
We have two days of packing.
Day one - we pack all my dishes. ALL MY DISHES. And my couches and chairs and tables and ALL the kids toys and all our clothes (except some of Marc and mine).
Yet they have not touched anything in the attic or the basement (stuff we don't use daily) and I still have every single picture and mirror on the walls.
As Marc put it "So when we order in Pizza we can distract ourselves from the fact that it's burning our hands (because no dishes) by looking at our artwork?"
And everything is labeled in what looks like a combination of Portuguese/French. Should be a lot of fun for the English unpackers in Ottawa. I went around relabeling things at midnight because they decided that my tv room (adjacent to the kitchen) was really the kitchen so the TV room couch is labeled kitchen. Yup.
Sorry, needed to kvetch a bit. I think they are taking my computer away any moment now and I am not sure why because they still need to do an inventory of our cave a vin (doesn't that sound posh?? it's really just shelves in the cold part of our basement - but thanks to recent gifts there are about 80 bottles of wine - nothing to a European btw).
And of course yesterday was beautiful and sunny and today is POURING and Julia's playhouse is out there getting SOAKED but they just said I would have to clean it off. Not to mention our teak patio furniture that is out there getting soaked - if they had wrapped and put it downstairs yesterday we wouldn't have it arriving in a possible mouldy state in Canada. I am wondering of we should just ditch it...
And now I am just rambling and rambling because they haven't taken the computer away yet, but I am sure you all have better things to do so I will go and be miserable in my corner of the main bathroom that I am hiding out in.
Actually I have to go and pick up pictures from Marc's office that he forgot to bring home and switch cars because someone might finally be buying our car and needs to test drive it this aft.
On Saturday we leave for Sweden!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!
Our suitcases for Greece are on their way to Andy & Liz's where we will stay for the two nights between!! YEAH!
My mum and step-dad are picking us up when we arrive in Montreal and taking me to Cote St-Luc BBQ (BEST BBQ chicken, yum yum) the day we arrive and driving us to Ottawa the next day - YEAH!
My in-laws arrive the Sunday to help with the kids and unpacking for 3 days after that - YEAH!!
Trying to focus on the positive... can I focus today? Not sure today.
OH NO! Marc forgot Nemo the goldfish this morning to take to a friend's aquarium!! I had better go and take him NOW!!!!
And there's a language issue that I wasn't expecting because the main gy is from Cap Vert (really nice guy btw) and has only been here 6 months and barely speaks French. And I don't speak Portuguese (I think that's what they speak in Cap Vert? I may be showing my ignorance)
We have two days of packing.
Day one - we pack all my dishes. ALL MY DISHES. And my couches and chairs and tables and ALL the kids toys and all our clothes (except some of Marc and mine).
Yet they have not touched anything in the attic or the basement (stuff we don't use daily) and I still have every single picture and mirror on the walls.
As Marc put it "So when we order in Pizza we can distract ourselves from the fact that it's burning our hands (because no dishes) by looking at our artwork?"
And everything is labeled in what looks like a combination of Portuguese/French. Should be a lot of fun for the English unpackers in Ottawa. I went around relabeling things at midnight because they decided that my tv room (adjacent to the kitchen) was really the kitchen so the TV room couch is labeled kitchen. Yup.
Sorry, needed to kvetch a bit. I think they are taking my computer away any moment now and I am not sure why because they still need to do an inventory of our cave a vin (doesn't that sound posh?? it's really just shelves in the cold part of our basement - but thanks to recent gifts there are about 80 bottles of wine - nothing to a European btw).
And of course yesterday was beautiful and sunny and today is POURING and Julia's playhouse is out there getting SOAKED but they just said I would have to clean it off. Not to mention our teak patio furniture that is out there getting soaked - if they had wrapped and put it downstairs yesterday we wouldn't have it arriving in a possible mouldy state in Canada. I am wondering of we should just ditch it...
And now I am just rambling and rambling because they haven't taken the computer away yet, but I am sure you all have better things to do so I will go and be miserable in my corner of the main bathroom that I am hiding out in.
Actually I have to go and pick up pictures from Marc's office that he forgot to bring home and switch cars because someone might finally be buying our car and needs to test drive it this aft.
On Saturday we leave for Sweden!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!
Our suitcases for Greece are on their way to Andy & Liz's where we will stay for the two nights between!! YEAH!
My mum and step-dad are picking us up when we arrive in Montreal and taking me to Cote St-Luc BBQ (BEST BBQ chicken, yum yum) the day we arrive and driving us to Ottawa the next day - YEAH!
My in-laws arrive the Sunday to help with the kids and unpacking for 3 days after that - YEAH!!
Trying to focus on the positive... can I focus today? Not sure today.
OH NO! Marc forgot Nemo the goldfish this morning to take to a friend's aquarium!! I had better go and take him NOW!!!!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
We're being stalked...
by the people who bought our house. After I said NO they couldn't come if they wanted to guarantee that we would be out Friday (and that she wouldn't have one flat side to her head - no, I didn't really say that part) we got a phone call on my mobile that had unfortunately run out of battery from them. Too bad I don't have voicemail (not really).
Then this afternoon as I was rushing out with recycling (okay, and to buy one thing I forgot at the Villeroy & Boch factory outlet) I see her. With her parents. Walking up and down the road in front of our house. Creepy.
I quickly called Marc and told him not to answer the doorbell if it rang. So he turned up his iPod real loud.
Lovely dinner at Puccinella's tonight. We're going to miss Carpaccio...
Then this afternoon as I was rushing out with recycling (okay, and to buy one thing I forgot at the Villeroy & Boch factory outlet) I see her. With her parents. Walking up and down the road in front of our house. Creepy.
I quickly called Marc and told him not to answer the doorbell if it rang. So he turned up his iPod real loud.
Lovely dinner at Puccinella's tonight. We're going to miss Carpaccio...
Monday, July 30, 2007
And in other news
I just got a text message from the guy who bought our house.
The guy who will be getting the keys Friday afternoon - like as in 4 days from now.
We have let them come in the house 5 times now since they made the offer. For a total of close to 8 hours. I even babysat their child (sick I find out after)for over an hour once while they took measurements.
Her father (who is a contractor and lives near Brussels) spent almost 2 hours here one day.
The text message reads (in French - so probably prettier than I am going to translate it for you)
"HI Tracy - I hope all is well. Aurelie's parents are going to be in Luxembourg tomorrow and we would like to come by to get an idea of the work to be done. Could you spare us 20 minutes?"
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!
Because the last time they were here I had an Ally McBeal moment. She was knocking on the walls (again) trying to figure out(again) how much could come down (I think she should go live out in nature where there are no walls since she obviously has such a problem with them).
She turns to me and says "Do you know?" (again. She's asked me this every time she's been in the house)
And I got up and said, "Not sure. Let's knock on the wall and see." and used HER HEAD to find out where is sounded hollow.
No not really, that was my Ally McBeal moment. What I actually said was "no, sorry, no idea."
But if she comes in here tomorrow, in the middle of our move chaos and asks me, I WILL USE HER HEAD.
Best they don't come - wouldn't you agree?
The guy who will be getting the keys Friday afternoon - like as in 4 days from now.
We have let them come in the house 5 times now since they made the offer. For a total of close to 8 hours. I even babysat their child (sick I find out after)for over an hour once while they took measurements.
Her father (who is a contractor and lives near Brussels) spent almost 2 hours here one day.
The text message reads (in French - so probably prettier than I am going to translate it for you)
"HI Tracy - I hope all is well. Aurelie's parents are going to be in Luxembourg tomorrow and we would like to come by to get an idea of the work to be done. Could you spare us 20 minutes?"
NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!
Because the last time they were here I had an Ally McBeal moment. She was knocking on the walls (again) trying to figure out(again) how much could come down (I think she should go live out in nature where there are no walls since she obviously has such a problem with them).
She turns to me and says "Do you know?" (again. She's asked me this every time she's been in the house)
And I got up and said, "Not sure. Let's knock on the wall and see." and used HER HEAD to find out where is sounded hollow.
No not really, that was my Ally McBeal moment. What I actually said was "no, sorry, no idea."
But if she comes in here tomorrow, in the middle of our move chaos and asks me, I WILL USE HER HEAD.
Best they don't come - wouldn't you agree?
I am taking 10 minutes off
and having a latte (decaf with soy milk - does that count?) to try and ensure my head doesn't explode today.
I think that maybe I should just give up sleep completely until the move is done. Take yesterday. I had to get up at 4:30 am to drive my mum and the cat to Brussels (215 km there and then 215 back for those of you not used to the drive). At 3:18 I was still awake with my persistent "Canadian" cough wondering how I would cope with the drive. Then I must have passed out because at 4:42 my mum woke me up and off we went.
The cat is now safely in Montreal in my mother's bathroom awaiting her next move to the kitty spa on Thursday. She dutifully protested the entire drive to Brussels "a haute voix", but it was okay, I couldn't really hear her since it was pouring rain. POURING. She then proceeded to bite me as I tried to put the tranquilizers down her throat so she could have a nice zen flight home, but luckily a nice Belgian woman ahead of us in line said she could get them down her if I held the cat and sure enough - down they went and I swear the rotten little thing smiled at the woman to thank her. It's like my kids - they're so good for other people.
Drove home with some LOUD music, picked up a few groceries and spent the rest of the day getting what seemed to be huge amounts of things done (though looking at the house today I am not so sure) Got some stuff out, recycling organized, clothes washed - all this on 90 minutes sleep.
Of course, I got 1/2 way through my evening Kir Royal (I usually drink SO little this is a weird thing for me, but I hate to throw away the bottle of creme de Framboise, may have to leave it with Jitka) and had to be put to bed at 8:30. Where I apparently slept like a starfish and snored (I have sinus problems - not my fault!)and when Julia woke up screeching at 4 am was surprised to find Marc was sleeping in the guest room.
So - this morning, after a good 10.5 hours sleep I have been trying to get stuff done. Blood test, electrical thingamabobs for the lights we're selling, tried another used car dealer for the car that won't sell - and I feel a MESS.
So warning - the rest of this post might get messy because I feel pretty messy right now.
Stu set me off - he cried when I left him at daycare (I can't pack with him home, he wants to play attactiks all day). I feel so bad for him - I know this move is tearing him up and that he wants to stay in Luxembourg, but we can't. And I am spending so much time talking to him and understanding and loving him that I am scared we won't make it out of here. So I end up getting teary-eyed at the door of the daycare (nice! - can we blame that on low blood sugar since I couldn't eat before the blood test?). Bad start. A friend (who works at the blood clinic - so someone else to say goodbye to, something I am not getting better at) is dropping off a book about moving this aft which will hopefully help.
It's not just the impact of putting all our stuff in boxes and moving home to Canada. It's that we are LEAVING Luxembourg - a place that I love and dislike all at the same time. A place that has become home. I've been here going on 8 years. My kids were born here. I don't know how to say goodbye, and of course, me being of the BIG EMOTION variety of girl I am just not talking about it much and pretending that I am happy with this and that it's all just organizational stress etc.
Except to Marc who gets me in tears on the phone regularly with the question "Are we SURE we are doing the right thing?" He has the patience of a SAINT. He's given up an amazing job to go home with me. How he stays married to me is beyond me sometimes.
So let me say for the record that there are a million reasons I am glad to go home. And it seemed (at the time) like such a smart and obvious thing to do. So logical (I like logical). But now that it's almost time to go I feel like I can't go and... and... and... I think I have to stop writing or that little tiny grip on keeping it together is going to let go.
And I don't have time for that right now because I have movers coming in less than 48 hours and there is some kind of bomb that has gone in my house.
To work woman!!
I think that maybe I should just give up sleep completely until the move is done. Take yesterday. I had to get up at 4:30 am to drive my mum and the cat to Brussels (215 km there and then 215 back for those of you not used to the drive). At 3:18 I was still awake with my persistent "Canadian" cough wondering how I would cope with the drive. Then I must have passed out because at 4:42 my mum woke me up and off we went.
The cat is now safely in Montreal in my mother's bathroom awaiting her next move to the kitty spa on Thursday. She dutifully protested the entire drive to Brussels "a haute voix", but it was okay, I couldn't really hear her since it was pouring rain. POURING. She then proceeded to bite me as I tried to put the tranquilizers down her throat so she could have a nice zen flight home, but luckily a nice Belgian woman ahead of us in line said she could get them down her if I held the cat and sure enough - down they went and I swear the rotten little thing smiled at the woman to thank her. It's like my kids - they're so good for other people.
Drove home with some LOUD music, picked up a few groceries and spent the rest of the day getting what seemed to be huge amounts of things done (though looking at the house today I am not so sure) Got some stuff out, recycling organized, clothes washed - all this on 90 minutes sleep.
Of course, I got 1/2 way through my evening Kir Royal (I usually drink SO little this is a weird thing for me, but I hate to throw away the bottle of creme de Framboise, may have to leave it with Jitka) and had to be put to bed at 8:30. Where I apparently slept like a starfish and snored (I have sinus problems - not my fault!)and when Julia woke up screeching at 4 am was surprised to find Marc was sleeping in the guest room.
So - this morning, after a good 10.5 hours sleep I have been trying to get stuff done. Blood test, electrical thingamabobs for the lights we're selling, tried another used car dealer for the car that won't sell - and I feel a MESS.
So warning - the rest of this post might get messy because I feel pretty messy right now.
Stu set me off - he cried when I left him at daycare (I can't pack with him home, he wants to play attactiks all day). I feel so bad for him - I know this move is tearing him up and that he wants to stay in Luxembourg, but we can't. And I am spending so much time talking to him and understanding and loving him that I am scared we won't make it out of here. So I end up getting teary-eyed at the door of the daycare (nice! - can we blame that on low blood sugar since I couldn't eat before the blood test?). Bad start. A friend (who works at the blood clinic - so someone else to say goodbye to, something I am not getting better at) is dropping off a book about moving this aft which will hopefully help.
It's not just the impact of putting all our stuff in boxes and moving home to Canada. It's that we are LEAVING Luxembourg - a place that I love and dislike all at the same time. A place that has become home. I've been here going on 8 years. My kids were born here. I don't know how to say goodbye, and of course, me being of the BIG EMOTION variety of girl I am just not talking about it much and pretending that I am happy with this and that it's all just organizational stress etc.
Except to Marc who gets me in tears on the phone regularly with the question "Are we SURE we are doing the right thing?" He has the patience of a SAINT. He's given up an amazing job to go home with me. How he stays married to me is beyond me sometimes.
So let me say for the record that there are a million reasons I am glad to go home. And it seemed (at the time) like such a smart and obvious thing to do. So logical (I like logical). But now that it's almost time to go I feel like I can't go and... and... and... I think I have to stop writing or that little tiny grip on keeping it together is going to let go.
And I don't have time for that right now because I have movers coming in less than 48 hours and there is some kind of bomb that has gone in my house.
To work woman!!
Saturday, July 28, 2007
No time
I am writing to say that I have no time to blog. I have SO much to blog about at the moment (hopefully most of it will remain in my mind - there's some interesting stuff) but I HAVE NO TIME, dang it.
Today I participated in a multi-family garage sale (Made almost EUR100! Woohoo!) then spent the afternoon going through stuff to take to the mega recycling centre and going to the recycling centre (btw - you can seriously get picked up there if you go alone with big heavy stuff... scary)
Tomorrow morning I am driving my mother to Brussels at 5 am with the cat (my poor mother) and then I have two days to finish making some sense of our belongings for the movers who arrive Wednesday (and hopefully not go over our "allowed" amount!)
And pack for two separate vacations - Sweden and Greece (am now regretting getting rid of some of Stu's 34 pairs of undies for those of you who know about that) - the logistics of clothes for 3+ weeks is a little overwhelming (Marc's doing his own - good man!)
Oh - and there's this little thing in Ottawa called our HOME RENO that we are trying to get settled. I won't even touch that one at the moment or my head MAY actually explode.
Please don't tell me I sound stressed... I am way past stressed, can't remember what it was like and am now just running on Warp 9.7 and the reactor core is going to explode (or whatever it is that happens on Star Trek the Next Generation).
Really though I'm ok. I promise. I am starting to think I am am adrenaline junkie.
Either that or it must be the Kir Royal I have every night before dinner (it's all Jitka's fault ;-P )
Probably talk to you in September!!
Today I participated in a multi-family garage sale (Made almost EUR100! Woohoo!) then spent the afternoon going through stuff to take to the mega recycling centre and going to the recycling centre (btw - you can seriously get picked up there if you go alone with big heavy stuff... scary)
Tomorrow morning I am driving my mother to Brussels at 5 am with the cat (my poor mother) and then I have two days to finish making some sense of our belongings for the movers who arrive Wednesday (and hopefully not go over our "allowed" amount!)
And pack for two separate vacations - Sweden and Greece (am now regretting getting rid of some of Stu's 34 pairs of undies for those of you who know about that) - the logistics of clothes for 3+ weeks is a little overwhelming (Marc's doing his own - good man!)
Oh - and there's this little thing in Ottawa called our HOME RENO that we are trying to get settled. I won't even touch that one at the moment or my head MAY actually explode.
Please don't tell me I sound stressed... I am way past stressed, can't remember what it was like and am now just running on Warp 9.7 and the reactor core is going to explode (or whatever it is that happens on Star Trek the Next Generation).
Really though I'm ok. I promise. I am starting to think I am am adrenaline junkie.
Either that or it must be the Kir Royal I have every night before dinner (it's all Jitka's fault ;-P )
Probably talk to you in September!!
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
and please
feel free to comment. It makes my whole day. Well, that and my new love of Gu Chocolate mini-puds.
But I like comments. Makes me feel like someone reads me... (or should I worry about the plans to lock me away?)
But I like comments. Makes me feel like someone reads me... (or should I worry about the plans to lock me away?)
But I do have one thing to complain about...
Please tell me if this is normal or not...
The people who are buying our house are driving me CRAZY.
They came for the first visit and were here 45 minutes. No biggie. I helped hold their 14 month old so they could look around - that's just the way I am.
They called and asked to come back the next night with an architect - again, we said yes. Marc and I took turns playing with their child while they spent 90 minutes (at dinner time, the only time the architect is free) going through the house.
Then they ask to come back with her dad and her uncle who are contractors. They will be here at 10 am. They show up at 5 to 11 (without their child luckily). I explain that I have to leave at 11:30 to get Stu at school. Apologies, they will be gone by then. I leave to get Stu at 11:30 and they are still here. I come back and try and entertain my children (instead of making them lunch because they are in the kitchen STILL) until 12:30. In the meantime they have knocked on every wall, looked behind every door, gone in every room, pulled out closets... all this before they have their mortgage confirmation. I am not sure they didn't check the contents of our drawers (though she's made it obvious now that we've signed the offer that the house decoration is substandard)
I say no more visits. But of course I only say it to myself (stupid me).
The next week they want to come with a flooring specialist (by the way they pleaded Poor to get the price down and we now find out they are dropping a ton of money into it, but that's just our stupidity, please don't tell me I am naive, I am well aware). It should take 15 minutes, 20 max. The flooring guy shows up before them and I end up showing him around for 10 minutes (he drove 120km and was on time, they drove 12km and were late). Sure enough he's gone after 15 minutes... and then they ask "Would you mind if we take some measurements for 5 minutes?" (what the #(*$&%^ were you doing last week for an hour and a half???)
So I say fine. But this time they have the kid with them. He's about to do a header down the stairs so Julia and I start to play with him (as they are ignoring him and measuring things like the distance between the windows in the TV room - it's about 15 cm - what are they thinking of putting there). Anyhow, as I am running on here let's cut to the chase - after AN HOUR of me playing with their kid I say I have to go out and run errands and get Stu. And they thank me for looking after their son because - GET THIS - HE HAS A FEVER AND COULDN"T GO TO DAYCARE SO THEY HAD TO BRING HIM WITH THEM.
Might have been nice to tell me that before he gave my daughter his GERMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When I mention that the notary has not received the required docs from them they brush me off. When I ask about the bank approval I am dismissed (at this point they still have not been approved, but are traipsing though my house)
Last week they emailed wanting the plans for the house (what for? You've measured every single wall) and if we didn't have them (the house is 55 years old) they need the contact information of the people who owned it before us as they must surely have them. Excuse me???
I write back a few days later apologizing for the late reply but that my daughter had surgery (adenoids) at very short notice and we were busy, and I said we don't have them and did ask the previous owner (no need to give them her name!) and she didn't have them (I left out that she laughed).
At this point I think - okay, we just need to get through the signing. All we need to do is get through the signing and these people will go away. Or rather we will, to a different continent.
Tuesday (yesterday)- get a call. Can they come by with a contractor Thursday morning. I admit it - I lied and said I had to drive to Brussels to get my mother (that was actually today that I had to do that). When can they come then. I say - politely - that I am on my way to the follow-up for my daughter's surgery and that I don't have my calendar on hand but that I have to check because we are very booked up with appointments before we move and I will have to send an email.
This evening I get this email from the wife (I have been dealing mostly with the husband):
"Hi Tracy and Marc!
We don't want to appear to pushy, but would you mind telling us when we could see the house once again with the entrepreneurs? It shouldn't last more than 30 min. If we do it to late, we would need to postpone our entrance in the house :-(
Thanks in advance!"
I can't even write her back because I will use words that are not to be used in polite company (most of them beginning with the letter F) I can't get over her gall - I am planning an overseas move, having surgery for my child, not to mention my own reno in Canada. And they have no plans to move into this house until November! Yet if I don't get back to her in less than 24 hours (when they took weeks to get the docs to the notary!) she follows-up...?
I don't know - is this normal? When we bought the house we had two companies come in at the same time for 15 minutes each to give us quotes on work to be done. I felt so bad disturbing the previous owners and thanked them profusely.
RUDE. These people are RUDE. And I am going to be RUDE back and not answer. So there. Nahnahnahnah (not very grown up, I know.)
I want to go home. I want to go now.
The people who are buying our house are driving me CRAZY.
They came for the first visit and were here 45 minutes. No biggie. I helped hold their 14 month old so they could look around - that's just the way I am.
They called and asked to come back the next night with an architect - again, we said yes. Marc and I took turns playing with their child while they spent 90 minutes (at dinner time, the only time the architect is free) going through the house.
Then they ask to come back with her dad and her uncle who are contractors. They will be here at 10 am. They show up at 5 to 11 (without their child luckily). I explain that I have to leave at 11:30 to get Stu at school. Apologies, they will be gone by then. I leave to get Stu at 11:30 and they are still here. I come back and try and entertain my children (instead of making them lunch because they are in the kitchen STILL) until 12:30. In the meantime they have knocked on every wall, looked behind every door, gone in every room, pulled out closets... all this before they have their mortgage confirmation. I am not sure they didn't check the contents of our drawers (though she's made it obvious now that we've signed the offer that the house decoration is substandard)
I say no more visits. But of course I only say it to myself (stupid me).
The next week they want to come with a flooring specialist (by the way they pleaded Poor to get the price down and we now find out they are dropping a ton of money into it, but that's just our stupidity, please don't tell me I am naive, I am well aware). It should take 15 minutes, 20 max. The flooring guy shows up before them and I end up showing him around for 10 minutes (he drove 120km and was on time, they drove 12km and were late). Sure enough he's gone after 15 minutes... and then they ask "Would you mind if we take some measurements for 5 minutes?" (what the #(*$&%^ were you doing last week for an hour and a half???)
So I say fine. But this time they have the kid with them. He's about to do a header down the stairs so Julia and I start to play with him (as they are ignoring him and measuring things like the distance between the windows in the TV room - it's about 15 cm - what are they thinking of putting there). Anyhow, as I am running on here let's cut to the chase - after AN HOUR of me playing with their kid I say I have to go out and run errands and get Stu. And they thank me for looking after their son because - GET THIS - HE HAS A FEVER AND COULDN"T GO TO DAYCARE SO THEY HAD TO BRING HIM WITH THEM.
Might have been nice to tell me that before he gave my daughter his GERMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
When I mention that the notary has not received the required docs from them they brush me off. When I ask about the bank approval I am dismissed (at this point they still have not been approved, but are traipsing though my house)
Last week they emailed wanting the plans for the house (what for? You've measured every single wall) and if we didn't have them (the house is 55 years old) they need the contact information of the people who owned it before us as they must surely have them. Excuse me???
I write back a few days later apologizing for the late reply but that my daughter had surgery (adenoids) at very short notice and we were busy, and I said we don't have them and did ask the previous owner (no need to give them her name!) and she didn't have them (I left out that she laughed).
At this point I think - okay, we just need to get through the signing. All we need to do is get through the signing and these people will go away. Or rather we will, to a different continent.
Tuesday (yesterday)- get a call. Can they come by with a contractor Thursday morning. I admit it - I lied and said I had to drive to Brussels to get my mother (that was actually today that I had to do that). When can they come then. I say - politely - that I am on my way to the follow-up for my daughter's surgery and that I don't have my calendar on hand but that I have to check because we are very booked up with appointments before we move and I will have to send an email.
This evening I get this email from the wife (I have been dealing mostly with the husband):
"Hi Tracy and Marc!
We don't want to appear to pushy, but would you mind telling us when we could see the house once again with the entrepreneurs? It shouldn't last more than 30 min. If we do it to late, we would need to postpone our entrance in the house :-(
Thanks in advance!"
I can't even write her back because I will use words that are not to be used in polite company (most of them beginning with the letter F) I can't get over her gall - I am planning an overseas move, having surgery for my child, not to mention my own reno in Canada. And they have no plans to move into this house until November! Yet if I don't get back to her in less than 24 hours (when they took weeks to get the docs to the notary!) she follows-up...?
I don't know - is this normal? When we bought the house we had two companies come in at the same time for 15 minutes each to give us quotes on work to be done. I felt so bad disturbing the previous owners and thanked them profusely.
RUDE. These people are RUDE. And I am going to be RUDE back and not answer. So there. Nahnahnahnah (not very grown up, I know.)
I want to go home. I want to go now.
The post I should have written yesterday
So - if you read the post I wrote yesterday, the one where I was having a whine, please try and forget it because it was just me being neurotic about this whole move thing and I am going to remove it as soon as I finish typing this one.
We had a a GREAT weekend. GREAT! There haven't been a whole lot of times in the last few months when I have been able to write that, but it was a great weekend (do you think maybe it was great? Can I use the word Great again?)
Saturday morning Marc had some buddies come by and they took away a LOT of stuff to the recycling centre - look!! I have an attic again!! WOW! And a Basement! And the best thing is - they took it all for us - Marc helped load, but there was no "Oh but this is from...". It's just GONE and someone else is benefitting from it. We owe them a HUGE thanks, which I think was paid mostly in beer (go figure, first hot, non-rainy day in 6 weeks). But still THANK YOU!
Then, as this was wrapping up and we were odering pizza my friend Catherine and her husband and kids showed up from Germany to stay overnight. We had a great afternoon walking through town, FINALLY got me into the casemates (let's not discuss the wrong turns where there were no lights... near closing time...) and came home to barbecue. (But not until after I snagged a pink Longchamp leather belt in the last day of the sales 2 minutes before the store closed - but that's my personal great ;-p)
One of the best things was how Stu took to her boys who are 11 and 9. They got on like a house on fire and were so good at playing with him (let's face it, Mum sucks at playing Attacticks). They are such lovely polite boys that Julia was going around saying "They are such nice boys Mummy!"
Of course that was when she wasn't pouting and saying "They only do boy things!" - someone felt a little left out, though I think it was made up to her when Cath took her upstairs to read her stories, look at her magic wand and let her put on her princess dress.
Just when Stu thought his day could NOT get any better his dad announced that they could watch STAR WARS (this is a new thing for him) and between me and Cath talking inside and Marc and Neil talking outside - well they saw the whole thing and it was MIDNIGHT (WOW for a 5 year old, oh lord for a 37 year old) and then all the boys SLEPT IN STU'S ROOM. SO COOL (it was like he was talking in caps locks all weekend - the hero worship was just wonderful to watch)
Sunday we headed to the Castle at Vianden which is one of my favorites and that I hadn't thought I'd get to again before leaving Lux. It was a beautiful day and we had great company. It was hard to part ways.
I only regret that Catherine & Co only arrived a few months ago and this was the first time we managed to hang out - and now we are leaving. So we'll have to plan some European vacations in their neck of the woods (or somewhere else?? Needs a planning session ;-p)
We had a a GREAT weekend. GREAT! There haven't been a whole lot of times in the last few months when I have been able to write that, but it was a great weekend (do you think maybe it was great? Can I use the word Great again?)
Saturday morning Marc had some buddies come by and they took away a LOT of stuff to the recycling centre - look!! I have an attic again!! WOW! And a Basement! And the best thing is - they took it all for us - Marc helped load, but there was no "Oh but this is from...". It's just GONE and someone else is benefitting from it. We owe them a HUGE thanks, which I think was paid mostly in beer (go figure, first hot, non-rainy day in 6 weeks). But still THANK YOU!
Then, as this was wrapping up and we were odering pizza my friend Catherine and her husband and kids showed up from Germany to stay overnight. We had a great afternoon walking through town, FINALLY got me into the casemates (let's not discuss the wrong turns where there were no lights... near closing time...) and came home to barbecue. (But not until after I snagged a pink Longchamp leather belt in the last day of the sales 2 minutes before the store closed - but that's my personal great ;-p)
One of the best things was how Stu took to her boys who are 11 and 9. They got on like a house on fire and were so good at playing with him (let's face it, Mum sucks at playing Attacticks). They are such lovely polite boys that Julia was going around saying "They are such nice boys Mummy!"
Of course that was when she wasn't pouting and saying "They only do boy things!" - someone felt a little left out, though I think it was made up to her when Cath took her upstairs to read her stories, look at her magic wand and let her put on her princess dress.
Just when Stu thought his day could NOT get any better his dad announced that they could watch STAR WARS (this is a new thing for him) and between me and Cath talking inside and Marc and Neil talking outside - well they saw the whole thing and it was MIDNIGHT (WOW for a 5 year old, oh lord for a 37 year old) and then all the boys SLEPT IN STU'S ROOM. SO COOL (it was like he was talking in caps locks all weekend - the hero worship was just wonderful to watch)
Sunday we headed to the Castle at Vianden which is one of my favorites and that I hadn't thought I'd get to again before leaving Lux. It was a beautiful day and we had great company. It was hard to part ways.
I only regret that Catherine & Co only arrived a few months ago and this was the first time we managed to hang out - and now we are leaving. So we'll have to plan some European vacations in their neck of the woods (or somewhere else?? Needs a planning session ;-p)
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Proof
Sometimes when you make a decision as big as the one we've made to move back to Canada, you are plagued with doubts (okay, even for some of the not so big decisions, but hey, it's me).
It's hard to leave somewhere we've been this long, and I've been worrying a lot about whether or not it's the right thing for the kids. We talk about moving home and yet this is the only home they've ever known.
And I am sure if you could open Stuart's chest you would see a little Luxembourgish flag on his heart, not a Canadian one. He's devastated by the move.
I will spare you the questions I've asked myself (and my poor saint of a husband - no sarcasm).
Last week our babysitter, a very mature young woman at 17, said "well they'll be Canadians and have a sense of belonging." She knows this from first hand experience, having moved to Brunei at the age of 8, living there for 8 years and moving to Luxembourg 2 years ago. She says she and her brother might have British passports but they don't really feel like they are from anywhere.
Hmmmm. This is definitely something in favour of a move.
Then the other night we were out (OUT!! US!!) at an engagement party for a good friend. Most of the people were English or Irish and everyone was speaking English. One of the fiance's colleagues was French and when we headed to a pub after dinner I spoke French to him. After he crawled back on to his seat ("Quoi? On parle Francais tout d'un coup?") I asked him a bit about himself.
He is, he tells me, "Franco-Allemand" (French-German). But it turns out he was born in Luxembourg. But he does not speak a word of Luxembourgish (though speaking French and German it is pretty much impossible not to speak some Burgish. It would hardly be like learning Chinese). And he has no intention of learning Luxembourgish.
It is, he says, NOT a language. It is a "dialect"... you hear the disdain dripping from his voice.
I will not berate this poor young man more than need be - though I would love to point out that he is entering competitions in France to become a civil servant and can't get in... whereas if he took a few months to learn Luxembourgish he would surely be able to land one here - in the country he has spent his entire life, with the exception of university - residing in.
I am not denying my own love-hate relationship with this country. But I can't get over the gall of someone growing up here and coming back to work here yet being so disdainful of his country of residence that he won't even acknowledge the official language of the country.
I don't want to judge (though I realize I am). But it just made me think that I want more for my kids than this. Being more Canadian than Luxembourgish, more Luxembourgish than Canadian - and somewhere in the middle not really fitting anywhere. I have seen it too many times here.
This afternoon in the car we taught the kids the words to Oh Canada. In English. In French. And of course the most famous version of all - the Hockey version, part French, part English.
Putting Stu to bed tonight he wanted to practice more. He's got a good little memory for song lyrics (we're still singing "Mama keukemol...den himmel as roodt" a song about Kleeschien - St Nick - in JULY!).
"Do you want to practice the French or English version?" I ask.
"Mo-oo-om!" (you know the "come on woman are you kidding me?" Mom) "NO! the HOCKEY version!!"
That's my boy! We'll turn him into a Canuck yet!
It's hard to leave somewhere we've been this long, and I've been worrying a lot about whether or not it's the right thing for the kids. We talk about moving home and yet this is the only home they've ever known.
And I am sure if you could open Stuart's chest you would see a little Luxembourgish flag on his heart, not a Canadian one. He's devastated by the move.
I will spare you the questions I've asked myself (and my poor saint of a husband - no sarcasm).
Last week our babysitter, a very mature young woman at 17, said "well they'll be Canadians and have a sense of belonging." She knows this from first hand experience, having moved to Brunei at the age of 8, living there for 8 years and moving to Luxembourg 2 years ago. She says she and her brother might have British passports but they don't really feel like they are from anywhere.
Hmmmm. This is definitely something in favour of a move.
Then the other night we were out (OUT!! US!!) at an engagement party for a good friend. Most of the people were English or Irish and everyone was speaking English. One of the fiance's colleagues was French and when we headed to a pub after dinner I spoke French to him. After he crawled back on to his seat ("Quoi? On parle Francais tout d'un coup?") I asked him a bit about himself.
He is, he tells me, "Franco-Allemand" (French-German). But it turns out he was born in Luxembourg. But he does not speak a word of Luxembourgish (though speaking French and German it is pretty much impossible not to speak some Burgish. It would hardly be like learning Chinese). And he has no intention of learning Luxembourgish.
It is, he says, NOT a language. It is a "dialect"... you hear the disdain dripping from his voice.
I will not berate this poor young man more than need be - though I would love to point out that he is entering competitions in France to become a civil servant and can't get in... whereas if he took a few months to learn Luxembourgish he would surely be able to land one here - in the country he has spent his entire life, with the exception of university - residing in.
I am not denying my own love-hate relationship with this country. But I can't get over the gall of someone growing up here and coming back to work here yet being so disdainful of his country of residence that he won't even acknowledge the official language of the country.
I don't want to judge (though I realize I am). But it just made me think that I want more for my kids than this. Being more Canadian than Luxembourgish, more Luxembourgish than Canadian - and somewhere in the middle not really fitting anywhere. I have seen it too many times here.
This afternoon in the car we taught the kids the words to Oh Canada. In English. In French. And of course the most famous version of all - the Hockey version, part French, part English.
Putting Stu to bed tonight he wanted to practice more. He's got a good little memory for song lyrics (we're still singing "Mama keukemol...den himmel as roodt" a song about Kleeschien - St Nick - in JULY!).
"Do you want to practice the French or English version?" I ask.
"Mo-oo-om!" (you know the "come on woman are you kidding me?" Mom) "NO! the HOCKEY version!!"
That's my boy! We'll turn him into a Canuck yet!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Insult to Injury
I think just about everyone knows that I have been off work for the last 5 1/2 months. Due to recurring sinus infections and a hideous cough that keeps me up at night and gasping for air most days.
About 6 weeks ago my GP sent me to a Lung Specialist. I didn't think there was anything wrong with my lungs (x-rays had shown that) and that my cough was due to sinus problems (I've also been to an Ear Nose and Throat specialist because I have problems in that area).
So I go and the Lung Specialist says I have very badly inflamed bronchial tubes. Bordering on asthma, but he thinks we've caught it in time. Take this inhaler, come back in a month.
I feel a bit better, until my allergies kick in and keep taking the medication, and go back after a month figuring he will say great, you're all better.
Not so much. After a month he's worried about my LO count (??) and is convinced I have allergic asthma and I need to do a histamine test in two weeks. Huh?
So this morning I go for the histamine test (not as bad as I thought). I don't have asthma the technician tells me - wow!
Next visit with the doctor. He confirms I don't have asthma. Yeah! But then... belittles me for thinking I did (I guess I was wasting his time? I never thought I had asthma?) and tells me that my cough is undoubtedly because I am HOMESICK (huh??? I didn't know that people get INFLAMED BRONCHIAL TUBES from being HOMESICK??) and when I said I have lived here almost 8 years he then said it's just nerves (??) and that there really isn't anything wrong with me, refused to give me a report of his findings for the caisse de maladie and then said - and I am NOT making this up:
"ALL CANADIANS COUGH IN LUXEMBOURG"
Mir wolle bleiwe wat mir sin - long live Luxembourg!
About 6 weeks ago my GP sent me to a Lung Specialist. I didn't think there was anything wrong with my lungs (x-rays had shown that) and that my cough was due to sinus problems (I've also been to an Ear Nose and Throat specialist because I have problems in that area).
So I go and the Lung Specialist says I have very badly inflamed bronchial tubes. Bordering on asthma, but he thinks we've caught it in time. Take this inhaler, come back in a month.
I feel a bit better, until my allergies kick in and keep taking the medication, and go back after a month figuring he will say great, you're all better.
Not so much. After a month he's worried about my LO count (??) and is convinced I have allergic asthma and I need to do a histamine test in two weeks. Huh?
So this morning I go for the histamine test (not as bad as I thought). I don't have asthma the technician tells me - wow!
Next visit with the doctor. He confirms I don't have asthma. Yeah! But then... belittles me for thinking I did (I guess I was wasting his time? I never thought I had asthma?) and tells me that my cough is undoubtedly because I am HOMESICK (huh??? I didn't know that people get INFLAMED BRONCHIAL TUBES from being HOMESICK??) and when I said I have lived here almost 8 years he then said it's just nerves (??) and that there really isn't anything wrong with me, refused to give me a report of his findings for the caisse de maladie and then said - and I am NOT making this up:
"ALL CANADIANS COUGH IN LUXEMBOURG"
Mir wolle bleiwe wat mir sin - long live Luxembourg!
Saturday, June 23, 2007
I've been to hell on Earth - it's in Belgium
Over a year ago Marc and I took the kids to an indoor playarea in Belgium called Atomic Kids. You know the kind of thing where they have ball pits, huge slides, lots and lots of padded wall type things.
Almost every weekend since Stuart had asked to go to Atomic Kids (usually on a Sunday afternoon when they are closed).
Given the crappy weather this morning I said "Sure, let's go!"
We arrived and were accosted by NOISE. Oh well, it's a kids place, it's bound to be loud. The guy explains that there's a price for 1 hour, 90 minutes and unlimited and that you pay at the end. I say "Oh I think that 90 minutes will suffice." and he says "Wait and see - you may find that an hour is more than enough."
I though he was being ridiculous, but man, was he RIGHT.
Shoes off, Stuart hesitates and wants to play all the video game type things right at the front door. Times like this he is definitely my child, loud noise and rambunctious kids screaming are not my thing.
We make it over to the climbing structures and hang out for a few minutes in the ball pit. Then we head into the area where they have huge balls you can crawl around on. Yeah, this is fun I think (there's no 6 year olds SCREECHING in my ears) and show the kids how to roll around on top of the ball on their stomachs.
BAM! And there I go right off the ball onto the concrete floor covered in about 5 cm of foam - and land right SMACK on my tailbone (same tailbone that has never fully recovered from my first delivery). As I writhe in pain on the floor one of my children rolls another of the balls onto me face.
I am not having so much fun. And I have about 13 seconds to move before I am trampled to death.
An hour is starting to sound like an eternity. We climb up and down, up and down, slide, crawl, bounce, swing... Julia is just that bit too small that she needs help getting up most things, and I am just that bit too big that I have to do my best imitation of a contortionist to get up or down.
The noise level is unreal. And while there are a few parents around having a look, most of the kids are running savage through the place - I find in these situations that I am always surprised at how RUDE kids are. I know Stuart is a little on the timid side, but Julia was terrified too. It's a miracle there haven't been any casualties at the place the way the little beasts knock each other over and shove their way through.
So - kudos to me, I made it through the hour trying to keep both kids in sight and then when Julia had dissapeared for the 3rd time to the top of the structures and screeched to be brought down, I laid down the law and insisted we left.
I think the kids are enjoying the fact that Mum can't turn her head left or right so she can't shake it to say NO...
Almost every weekend since Stuart had asked to go to Atomic Kids (usually on a Sunday afternoon when they are closed).
Given the crappy weather this morning I said "Sure, let's go!"
We arrived and were accosted by NOISE. Oh well, it's a kids place, it's bound to be loud. The guy explains that there's a price for 1 hour, 90 minutes and unlimited and that you pay at the end. I say "Oh I think that 90 minutes will suffice." and he says "Wait and see - you may find that an hour is more than enough."
I though he was being ridiculous, but man, was he RIGHT.
Shoes off, Stuart hesitates and wants to play all the video game type things right at the front door. Times like this he is definitely my child, loud noise and rambunctious kids screaming are not my thing.
We make it over to the climbing structures and hang out for a few minutes in the ball pit. Then we head into the area where they have huge balls you can crawl around on. Yeah, this is fun I think (there's no 6 year olds SCREECHING in my ears) and show the kids how to roll around on top of the ball on their stomachs.
BAM! And there I go right off the ball onto the concrete floor covered in about 5 cm of foam - and land right SMACK on my tailbone (same tailbone that has never fully recovered from my first delivery). As I writhe in pain on the floor one of my children rolls another of the balls onto me face.
I am not having so much fun. And I have about 13 seconds to move before I am trampled to death.
An hour is starting to sound like an eternity. We climb up and down, up and down, slide, crawl, bounce, swing... Julia is just that bit too small that she needs help getting up most things, and I am just that bit too big that I have to do my best imitation of a contortionist to get up or down.
The noise level is unreal. And while there are a few parents around having a look, most of the kids are running savage through the place - I find in these situations that I am always surprised at how RUDE kids are. I know Stuart is a little on the timid side, but Julia was terrified too. It's a miracle there haven't been any casualties at the place the way the little beasts knock each other over and shove their way through.
So - kudos to me, I made it through the hour trying to keep both kids in sight and then when Julia had dissapeared for the 3rd time to the top of the structures and screeched to be brought down, I laid down the law and insisted we left.
I think the kids are enjoying the fact that Mum can't turn her head left or right so she can't shake it to say NO...
Friday, June 22, 2007
But you see... it's a different COUNTRY
Marc left this morning for 4 days of golf. Today on a course that (if I am not mistaken) some holes in France, some in Luxembourg and some in Germany.
From there he will head to Baden-Baden Germany for the "Canada Cup" with the boys - I feel bad for them that there is rain in the forecast.
And I am not thrilled about said rain for me and the kids either - weekends can be pretty long when it pours all day and as tomorrow is the National Holiday we are talking about 2 days when everything is CLOSED.
Which might not be such an issue if the festivities for said holiday were not going to be waterlogged.
So, I hit weather underground to see where we could go for the day tomorrow... Brugges? Raining. Nancy FR? Raining. Maastricht? Raining. Cologne? RAINING.
Then I realized - subconsciously I somehow hope that places will have different weather because I am crossing a the border. Yeah, not so logical.
From there he will head to Baden-Baden Germany for the "Canada Cup" with the boys - I feel bad for them that there is rain in the forecast.
And I am not thrilled about said rain for me and the kids either - weekends can be pretty long when it pours all day and as tomorrow is the National Holiday we are talking about 2 days when everything is CLOSED.
Which might not be such an issue if the festivities for said holiday were not going to be waterlogged.
So, I hit weather underground to see where we could go for the day tomorrow... Brugges? Raining. Nancy FR? Raining. Maastricht? Raining. Cologne? RAINING.
Then I realized - subconsciously I somehow hope that places will have different weather because I am crossing a the border. Yeah, not so logical.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The week in review
A lot happened in the last week and I have a feeling there's more like it on the way...
Tuesday - brought two house showings... one a potential offer. And a counter-offer from the below our asking price - a counter-offer that was still too low.
Wednesday - had us in a pseudo bidding war with the second couple saying they were going to make an offer of a certain amount (20K more than the other offer) but that they couldn't officially do it until they heard back from their contractor - so how did we hold off signing with the other couple without losing the sale??
In the end it was a moot point - we spent 4 hours in the emergency room with Julia because her high fever was back and she was crying, lethargic and generally not well at all and we were worried (and she had red spots - she tends towards red spots). They thought she had a Urinary Tract Infection and that she would have to stay in the hospital on antibiotics through an IV and that she would be there until 48 hours after her fever broke...!!!! In the end, 3 urine samples and a blood test later, they let us take her home on the condition that we returned the next morning for another urine sample and blood test.
Thursday - hospital with Julia, and she was okay, they decided it was viral. Marc and Stuart both sick, took Stuart to the doctor (virus). Found out that the other offer (20K more) was a no-go - we think the guy was trying to force us into waiting and possibly losing the first offer so we'd take less. Took first offer and signed a "compromis" to sell our house.
Friday - Stuart up for 2 hours at 3 am complaining of stomach pain. Do we go to Paris? Yes? No? Somebody decide? Tracy at lung specialist first thing. Not a good report from one of the tests, she now has to go for a histamine test where they will pump her full of histamines and see if it provokes an asthma attack. Doesn't that sound like fun? Appointment took a hideous amount of time, we rushed to train station and made train to Paris with 4 minutes to spare, all in foul humour. Arrive in Paris in middle of torrential downpour and foolishly struggle to get to hotel by Metro (I know, we're idiots, but I grew up in Montreal where they have these neat things called ESCALATORS in the metro!)Spend the evening at the base of Sacre-Coeur church in Montmartre watching the kids ride the carousel and ducking into a cafe for ice cream when the skies opened up again.
Saturday - everyone much better it appears - except Tracy who is on major allergy suffering (it only took 6 hours to figure out it was actually a cold!). Through occasional rain showers visit the Eifel Tower (line up was 2 hours long so we didn't go up) and took a Bateau Mouche along the Seine, did a little shopping at Printemps and Galleries Lafayette before heading back (another downpour) to the hotel and dinner at the adorable little restaurant next to it where they served Marc his Terrine Maison by bringing a ginormous terrine and letting him cut off what he wanted. Things we will miss.
Sunday - Headed off to the Champs Elysees for Marc to make his meeting with some people over from Canada (the reason we were in Paris in such poor health). The sun was out, so the kids and I headed up the Champs Elysees for a look at L'Arc de Triomphe - Stu was pretty impressed, there is a smaller one in Nancy that he had been through a couple of weeks before. Cafe au lait on the Champs Elysees... who could resist? Met up with Marc, walked some more, had lunch in a little resto just off the CE and played in a playground as we headed back towards the Louvre. Julia passed out and was carried through the Tuilleries and the rain started again so we headed back to our hotel to catch a cab to the train station. Upon asking the boy (Stuart kept saying he looked like Prince Charming in Shrek 2 - the hair!!) to call us a cab were told :
"Well it's raining. That's a problem. You can't get a cab in the rain."
?????
"it's raining and we don't call a specific cab, we call a taxi rank and they won't get out of the car to answer the phone when it is raining so you can't get a taxi."
Welcome to FRANCE!
In the end I pushed enough that he called (only to prove to me that he was right and that we would get no cab, damn North American that I am) and guess what? GOT US A CAB.
Home again home again, thank goodness we're back!
Monday - No school in the afternoon. Two cranky hot kids. Wicked allergy attacked for Tracy and asthma kicked in. This is why we are leaving this country. have to remember that when I have doubts.
And that is all that happened. I think. Now I can't remember ;-)
Tuesday - brought two house showings... one a potential offer. And a counter-offer from the below our asking price - a counter-offer that was still too low.
Wednesday - had us in a pseudo bidding war with the second couple saying they were going to make an offer of a certain amount (20K more than the other offer) but that they couldn't officially do it until they heard back from their contractor - so how did we hold off signing with the other couple without losing the sale??
In the end it was a moot point - we spent 4 hours in the emergency room with Julia because her high fever was back and she was crying, lethargic and generally not well at all and we were worried (and she had red spots - she tends towards red spots). They thought she had a Urinary Tract Infection and that she would have to stay in the hospital on antibiotics through an IV and that she would be there until 48 hours after her fever broke...!!!! In the end, 3 urine samples and a blood test later, they let us take her home on the condition that we returned the next morning for another urine sample and blood test.
Thursday - hospital with Julia, and she was okay, they decided it was viral. Marc and Stuart both sick, took Stuart to the doctor (virus). Found out that the other offer (20K more) was a no-go - we think the guy was trying to force us into waiting and possibly losing the first offer so we'd take less. Took first offer and signed a "compromis" to sell our house.
Friday - Stuart up for 2 hours at 3 am complaining of stomach pain. Do we go to Paris? Yes? No? Somebody decide? Tracy at lung specialist first thing. Not a good report from one of the tests, she now has to go for a histamine test where they will pump her full of histamines and see if it provokes an asthma attack. Doesn't that sound like fun? Appointment took a hideous amount of time, we rushed to train station and made train to Paris with 4 minutes to spare, all in foul humour. Arrive in Paris in middle of torrential downpour and foolishly struggle to get to hotel by Metro (I know, we're idiots, but I grew up in Montreal where they have these neat things called ESCALATORS in the metro!)Spend the evening at the base of Sacre-Coeur church in Montmartre watching the kids ride the carousel and ducking into a cafe for ice cream when the skies opened up again.
Saturday - everyone much better it appears - except Tracy who is on major allergy suffering (it only took 6 hours to figure out it was actually a cold!). Through occasional rain showers visit the Eifel Tower (line up was 2 hours long so we didn't go up) and took a Bateau Mouche along the Seine, did a little shopping at Printemps and Galleries Lafayette before heading back (another downpour) to the hotel and dinner at the adorable little restaurant next to it where they served Marc his Terrine Maison by bringing a ginormous terrine and letting him cut off what he wanted. Things we will miss.
Sunday - Headed off to the Champs Elysees for Marc to make his meeting with some people over from Canada (the reason we were in Paris in such poor health). The sun was out, so the kids and I headed up the Champs Elysees for a look at L'Arc de Triomphe - Stu was pretty impressed, there is a smaller one in Nancy that he had been through a couple of weeks before. Cafe au lait on the Champs Elysees... who could resist? Met up with Marc, walked some more, had lunch in a little resto just off the CE and played in a playground as we headed back towards the Louvre. Julia passed out and was carried through the Tuilleries and the rain started again so we headed back to our hotel to catch a cab to the train station. Upon asking the boy (Stuart kept saying he looked like Prince Charming in Shrek 2 - the hair!!) to call us a cab were told :
"Well it's raining. That's a problem. You can't get a cab in the rain."
?????
"it's raining and we don't call a specific cab, we call a taxi rank and they won't get out of the car to answer the phone when it is raining so you can't get a taxi."
Welcome to FRANCE!
In the end I pushed enough that he called (only to prove to me that he was right and that we would get no cab, damn North American that I am) and guess what? GOT US A CAB.
Home again home again, thank goodness we're back!
Monday - No school in the afternoon. Two cranky hot kids. Wicked allergy attacked for Tracy and asthma kicked in. This is why we are leaving this country. have to remember that when I have doubts.
And that is all that happened. I think. Now I can't remember ;-)
Monday, June 11, 2007
Redemption
On the drive back from picking up the cat:
"It's okay Denby, you're going to be home soon."
"You're okay Dens, I love you."
"It's okay Denby, don't be scared I am here."
All the way home various variations on a theme.
Makes you think that all those middle of the night hugs for bad dreams and back rubbing when they are throwing up and kisses for booboos really do mean something to them.
Okay, maybe no eBay today.
"It's okay Denby, you're going to be home soon."
"You're okay Dens, I love you."
"It's okay Denby, don't be scared I am here."
All the way home various variations on a theme.
Makes you think that all those middle of the night hugs for bad dreams and back rubbing when they are throwing up and kisses for booboos really do mean something to them.
Okay, maybe no eBay today.
Newsletter from the House of Ill Health
Thank you for checking in on your favorite sick family the Booger-Snots.
Last week brought gastroenteritis into our home - starting with Julia, who had a mild case. By Wednesday Marc had a full blown case and stayed home from work for two days without any prodding from his nagging wife. Friday Stuart started - but also a mild case and seemed to be pretty much back on his feet (or at least he was on his feet and running roughshod through the house playing) by Saturday afternoon.
Ah, but fall not into the trap of thinking we were done - do not make my mistake.
Stuart had a birthday party to attend yesterday afternoon. A birthday party that he spent glued to my leg and cranky. Marc and Julia came to get us and she was cranky and screaming.
By 8 pm Stuart had a fever of 39.6 degrees. By 10:30 Julia was up at 40.0 degrees. They are still feverish this morning and staying home.
And if you thought that by any chance we were getting any sleep in there - NO! My allergies are worse than ever and I was up most of the night sneezing or honking the horn that used to be my nose. Just started to drift off at 5:30 when Stu got up.
There needs to be some law of nature that ensures sick kids act sick - that they are subdued, sleep a lot, willing drink lots of liquids and in general are QUIETER THAN NORMAL. My two are up there battling as I type.
10 hours till bed - two visits with moving companies to get estimates, one viewing of the house, on our way in a few minutes to pick up the cat at the vet... gotta love a challenge!
P.S. - anyone want advance notification if I list them on eBay?
Last week brought gastroenteritis into our home - starting with Julia, who had a mild case. By Wednesday Marc had a full blown case and stayed home from work for two days without any prodding from his nagging wife. Friday Stuart started - but also a mild case and seemed to be pretty much back on his feet (or at least he was on his feet and running roughshod through the house playing) by Saturday afternoon.
Ah, but fall not into the trap of thinking we were done - do not make my mistake.
Stuart had a birthday party to attend yesterday afternoon. A birthday party that he spent glued to my leg and cranky. Marc and Julia came to get us and she was cranky and screaming.
By 8 pm Stuart had a fever of 39.6 degrees. By 10:30 Julia was up at 40.0 degrees. They are still feverish this morning and staying home.
And if you thought that by any chance we were getting any sleep in there - NO! My allergies are worse than ever and I was up most of the night sneezing or honking the horn that used to be my nose. Just started to drift off at 5:30 when Stu got up.
There needs to be some law of nature that ensures sick kids act sick - that they are subdued, sleep a lot, willing drink lots of liquids and in general are QUIETER THAN NORMAL. My two are up there battling as I type.
10 hours till bed - two visits with moving companies to get estimates, one viewing of the house, on our way in a few minutes to pick up the cat at the vet... gotta love a challenge!
P.S. - anyone want advance notification if I list them on eBay?
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The fine nuances of international relations
Friday night, 9:15 pm.
Our doorbell rings.
I answer it to find three people I have never seen before on my doorstep - a middle-aged gentleman, a lady and a girl. He starts to mention our house and Eric O (a friend of Marc's at work).
Luckily Marc had mentioned to me (in passing) that there was a new Turk at work that was looking for a place to live, but that he was fully booked with appointments for the weekend and would call Marc on Monday if he hadn't bought somewhere.
2+2 = this must be the guy.
I am gracious - I invite them in. They resist - standing out in the rain. I say, no please, of course you must come in. The resist again.
I am not clear on why they have rung our doorbell at 9:15 if they don't want to come in. I ask a last time and yes, they come in.
We sit in the living room. I offer drinks - he declines, she accepts. The child looks confused. I foolishly offer apple juice thinking I have lots in the fridge. I don't, I fill the 2 glasses best I can and take them out to the living room. He looks expectantly and I say "Would you like something?" and he says "yes, the same". So I hunt in the basement and find some juice boxes I cut open and pour into a glass.
We make small talk for about 30 minutes - difficult small talk as his grasp on English is somewhat tenuous and she relies on him to speak for her for the most part. I am not faulting them - I don't know a single word in Turkish I realize and lamely throw out that we were in Turkey last summer.
Worried that they will be offended that we did not go on a single excursion and spent the entire week at the resort - I say something really bright like "Unfortunately we were there the week they were bombing and so we stayed at the resort."
Open mouth insert foot and half my leg. Because discussing the fragile politics of Turkey entering the EU (the bombs were aimed at tourists by a group against entrance into the EU) is FAR better than saying we were more into chilling on the beach. Good one Trace!
In an effort to recuperate we switch quickly to safe topics... schools, Luxembourg and the mens' common employer.
I am still not clear on why they are in my house. But I try to be charming and hospitable because they have only been in the country for three weeks. This is what we do here - offer advice on what grocery store has what, what activities are of interest, discuss the local English weekly newspaper... remember how difficult our adjustment period was and offer what we can.
After a somewhat strained half hour, and as they ask a few questions about the house, I ask if they are interested in seeing it - but stating very clearly that my children are asleep in bed (this had been mentioned before). They jump up, eager to take a look so I think "Okay, so they are interested in the house."
We do the tour. We describe our house in detail, the renovations, the addition, the garden. They follow us upstairs and even go as far as to poke their heads into the rooms of our sleeping children (I mean it's the exact same room on both floors!). They visit our attic, and then all of the rooms in our basement.
At the end they ask the price. We tell them. Then they discuss prices for real estate in Luxembourg. From this conversation we glean that they are looking at apartments. We have a lovely house but they are not looking for a house.
?
??
???
They leave. I say (and mean, because she is a nice lady) that if there is anything I can do to let me know. She invites me for coffee one day.
And Marc and I look at each other and both say "What the??" at the same time.
We don't mind that they stopped by unannounced. Or that they weren't looking for a house, but rather an apartment. We don't mind the time we spent talking to them as there were some interesting points.
What we find strange is that they poked around our house, in our SLEEPING childrens' rooms when they had no intention of buying the house at all.
No?
Our doorbell rings.
I answer it to find three people I have never seen before on my doorstep - a middle-aged gentleman, a lady and a girl. He starts to mention our house and Eric O (a friend of Marc's at work).
Luckily Marc had mentioned to me (in passing) that there was a new Turk at work that was looking for a place to live, but that he was fully booked with appointments for the weekend and would call Marc on Monday if he hadn't bought somewhere.
2+2 = this must be the guy.
I am gracious - I invite them in. They resist - standing out in the rain. I say, no please, of course you must come in. The resist again.
I am not clear on why they have rung our doorbell at 9:15 if they don't want to come in. I ask a last time and yes, they come in.
We sit in the living room. I offer drinks - he declines, she accepts. The child looks confused. I foolishly offer apple juice thinking I have lots in the fridge. I don't, I fill the 2 glasses best I can and take them out to the living room. He looks expectantly and I say "Would you like something?" and he says "yes, the same". So I hunt in the basement and find some juice boxes I cut open and pour into a glass.
We make small talk for about 30 minutes - difficult small talk as his grasp on English is somewhat tenuous and she relies on him to speak for her for the most part. I am not faulting them - I don't know a single word in Turkish I realize and lamely throw out that we were in Turkey last summer.
Worried that they will be offended that we did not go on a single excursion and spent the entire week at the resort - I say something really bright like "Unfortunately we were there the week they were bombing and so we stayed at the resort."
Open mouth insert foot and half my leg. Because discussing the fragile politics of Turkey entering the EU (the bombs were aimed at tourists by a group against entrance into the EU) is FAR better than saying we were more into chilling on the beach. Good one Trace!
In an effort to recuperate we switch quickly to safe topics... schools, Luxembourg and the mens' common employer.
I am still not clear on why they are in my house. But I try to be charming and hospitable because they have only been in the country for three weeks. This is what we do here - offer advice on what grocery store has what, what activities are of interest, discuss the local English weekly newspaper... remember how difficult our adjustment period was and offer what we can.
After a somewhat strained half hour, and as they ask a few questions about the house, I ask if they are interested in seeing it - but stating very clearly that my children are asleep in bed (this had been mentioned before). They jump up, eager to take a look so I think "Okay, so they are interested in the house."
We do the tour. We describe our house in detail, the renovations, the addition, the garden. They follow us upstairs and even go as far as to poke their heads into the rooms of our sleeping children (I mean it's the exact same room on both floors!). They visit our attic, and then all of the rooms in our basement.
At the end they ask the price. We tell them. Then they discuss prices for real estate in Luxembourg. From this conversation we glean that they are looking at apartments. We have a lovely house but they are not looking for a house.
?
??
???
They leave. I say (and mean, because she is a nice lady) that if there is anything I can do to let me know. She invites me for coffee one day.
And Marc and I look at each other and both say "What the??" at the same time.
We don't mind that they stopped by unannounced. Or that they weren't looking for a house, but rather an apartment. We don't mind the time we spent talking to them as there were some interesting points.
What we find strange is that they poked around our house, in our SLEEPING childrens' rooms when they had no intention of buying the house at all.
No?
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