The next adult adventure

Another loop in the roller coaster of adult life a’waits – buying a house.
We sign Friday, and move on Saturday. Yes, the Saturday in four days!!!!

I’m so excited. JD is so excited. He has already started putting stuff in boxes. Stuff that I’ve already had to un-pack because we still need it, but still, he’s trying to get ahead.

But first – let’s rewind on a few details.

The search -
I am stunned it only took three months or so. I was fully expecting more frustration, indecision, haggling, finagling, negotiating, looking, hoping, cursing ……but then…. we realized we didn’t really have much choice. If we wanted to buy, we would have to leave Rouen; and JD (a.k.a. city dweller par excellence) swallowed the bitter pill really, really, really well.

At first we both thought, oh so foolishly, that we could go out about 5 kilometres and be okay. Well, 5 turned into 10, which turned into 15 which turned into 25. And boy did we learn a lot about the geography surrounding Rouen.

Normandy Geography –
The Seine starts from the English Channel (almost due west of Rouen), turns north (meanders a bit) then does a 180 to flow south (meanders a bit), then does a 180 to re-meander north, then…you get the idea. So, the Seine is really sinuous and eventually it makes it to Rouen. Rouen is situated on the “top” of one of the meandering arches. We will be moving west and a tinge north to a town called Saint Paer which is 4kms north of the town Duclair which is a town situated on the top of the nearest meandering arch to the west. Confused? Try looking up St. Paer (postal code (76480) or Rouen (postal code 76000) on Mappy – you’ll see the wiggly Seine and understand better.
(sidenote – Here in Rouen we also have the “right bank” vs. “left bank” dichotomy. In Paris the “left bank” is snooty; here it’s the opposite. That said, J.D. was insistant about moving entirely out of Rouen as opposed to moving to the “lesser side of the Seine” a.k.a. suburbia à la française. And really, I could only agree)

The landscape -
It took ooooodles of years –give or take a few- for the Seine to cut through the flint (a type of stone. HA! The flintstone! Ha ha ha) and chalk that makes up the earth in Normandy. Who says river cutting through the land says steep, vertical, cliff-esque landscapes. Which is why you have the beautiful white cliffs overlooking the sea at Etretat for example. This of course I didn’t really remember when looking for houses. We saw a few houses with gardens at 60° angles. Sure there’s land but you can’t do anything with it. Not enjoy a backyard bbq that’s for sure. Nope, no thank you – the flatter the better. At another house I asked where her vegetable garden was; she rambled on about not being able to make anything grow because all the land underneath her sparse spindly grass was just like (she points up) that. “That” being a two story cliff-like overhang at the edge of her property made up of sandwiched layers of clay, chalk and flint. Not the best elements for garden growing. Fortunately for me she was an honest gabber.

So – let’s resume how the search started to get complicated.
Have to take into account crossing the Seine to get to work; so which side would be better? (because there’s only so many bridges and way too many commuters).
Next, have to take into account garden size (I wanted bigger and bigger every time I visited - I said I wanted garden, so from then on no rinky-dinky patch of grass would do. I wanted big. Garden party for 100? Okay. Want to play football in the yard? No problem. Large enough for a pack of future Belgian Shepards and maybe a sheep? Easy)
Next, have to take into account if the land is flat or not (much of Normandy isn’t).
Next, have to take into account all the adult type stuff (price, is it on a flood plane, heating system, how much construction, is it already liveable, property taxes, blah, blah, blah, etc, etc, etc).

I’m amazed we found something – Mr. Limited Budget may I introduce you to Mr. Big Ideas? Have you meet before? No? Well that’s okay, we’ll let you two duke it out because someone will be leaving the arena of possibilities. Indeed, compromise reigned supreme.

The good news is this:
I got the garden I wanted (rich, gorgeous, fertile, everything-grows-here soil), the small town I wanted (1,400 habitants – it even has a school!), we got some extra rooms (3 bedrooms), we got the seclusion (we’re the last house and the end of two dead end roads – so if you drive past our house you drive right into agricultural fields – no passing traffic! Heaven!), and we got a very nice, beautiful, all the best of Normandy, area. And, the house is a wood house! Meaning very easy to work on (we’ll be cutting a wall or two out) and eventually add on to!

The icky news is this:
every square inch of floor, wall, ceiling, plumbing, tiles, cabinetry, patio, and any other random surface you can think of, MUST be “refreshed” as the French like to say. Well, maybe for our housewarming party we’ll have a disco theme and invite the house – because she’s already dressed to the nines! You should see the kitchen cabinets. Not even trendy I-can-sell-this-to-a-seventies-crazy-collector-and-make-some-money seventies. Hideous. And mismatched to boot.
The other icky news is that my 15 minute commute will turn into a 50 minute commute. So at the moment I have got to get a more economical car. If I keep what I have I will quadruple my monthly gas expenditure. And I already pay 30 euros a week. The math makes my bank account ill.

The other other icky news – (for you faithful readers of H.T.E.N.)
I’m not feeling so anxious about posting the “before” pictures until I have some “after” pictures to make you go “oohhhh” and “aahhhhh” and “isn’t that amazing?”. I might reconsider about showing pictures of the garden though.
EEEhhhh maybe just one picture of the hideous 70s floor tiles....as a cheap plea for simpathy....

So, the next six months for me will mean when I’m not working I’ll be in overalls and my hot little hands will be manipulating either a tape measure, garden hoe, ruler, lawn mower, pencil, wheelbarrow, paintbrush, compost pile, drill, pruning sheers, table saw, and on and on and on. I can’t wait! I can't wait, I can't wait!

3 day larvae

Larva weekend – i just had an extended weekend (Monday a day off).

Wow! Three days to get stuff done & get ahead!

Bank statements to read!

Buttons to sew!

Boxes to pack!

Documents to send!

A house to clean!

Laundry & dishes to do!

A dog to take on a long walk!

Long lost friends to re-contact!

Facebook profile to update!

Life shenanigans to deal with!

None of it I tell you. None of this got done during my 3 day extended-fully larvae-esque weekend. It snowed or rained and was close to 0°C all weekend. Icky weather is not motivating. Two of the three days I didn’t even make it outside. So, here I am (naughty girl that I am – at work) getting some of this done now. Better late than never I say.

Although, I did get it together to take a shower, and watch 6 hours of BBC’s Strictly Come Dancing entire 3^rd season run-through. Really how great is it to start a new show at the beginning and get all the way through it on the same day? Fabulous I say. Really, I had such a wonderful sense of accomplishment. All toasty warm in bed, big dog beautifully postured for full ease of ear and muzzle rubbing. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

I didn’t even get to the Sunday market. That’s how much I wanted to ferment in bed.

So for those of you reading this who are overworked, sorry, try to vomit with jealousy over in a corner where I can’t hear you. Thanks.

Three day weekends? Yup. Can’t recommend them highly enough.

Getting around to it...

Hiya,

when i have time, i like to surf other people's blogs. it really resembles looking into peoples windows at dusk, just as they've turned their lights on; the fishbowl effect i call it.
So while i was peeking in some windows i came across this. And really - any blog with tequila in the name must be okay....

so I'm borrowing her idea (which she says she borrowed from somewhere.... and so it goes)

here i go.

ten things I really liked when I was a teenager that
I don't much care for now:
1. blue eyeshadow
2. really baggy jeans
3. skaters (for dating purposes)
4. Denny's
5. smoking in cachette
6. horror flicks
7. gossip
8. going to the mall
9. soft serve ice cream
10. talking endlessly on the telephone


ten things I didn't like when I was a teenager
that I really like now:
1. wine
2. my brother
3. reading newspapers
4. npr
5. tea & time alone
6. taking care of a dog (back then: schizophrenic-psycho poodle from hell; now: heavenly Belgian Shepard)
7. going to bed early
8. men in suits
9. red bell peppers & mushrooms
10. babies

ten things I've never much cared for
and probably never will:
1. geometry
2. stinky cheese & peas
3. winter
4. keeping up with the Joneses'
5. fluorescent clothing (remember the 80s?)
6. trash t.v.
7. thrash / metal / death rock
8. stress
9. my double chin (when I'm thin it shows less; but it will always be there)
10. football

ten things I've always liked
and probably always will:

1. walking in a lush forest
2. my mom (a bit tougher to admit when i was younger but....)
3. talking with people about where they come from
4. classical music
5. riding my bike
6. lip gloss / shine / shimmer .... (with or without sparkles)
7. Frank & Dean (music & movies)
8. France
9. cooking
10. me

taken from tequilamockingbird.blogspot.com

p.s. feel free to copy!

France: smoke free January 1st !

France. The country I love. And I will love it even more after Jan 1st 2008. Everywhere, and i mean everywhere (even nightclubs and especially bars & pubs) will be smoke free.

Italy's done it. Ireland's done it. And although the moaning of the smokers and their "rights" was heard loud and clear they were indeed shushed away. Too bad for you. And the catastrophic effects of making establishments non-smoking were never felt. Much hoopla and no follow-through. Smokers would boycott. Smokers would ignore the law. Smokers would......go outside.

And now too bad for you, french puffers, french conaisseurs de tabac, french ashtray lickers.

I can't wait. Now really. Isn't this the best for everyone? I've heard that even for smokers this helps / encourages them to not smoke as much. That's just awful, I do indeed sympathize. It's terrible: not spending as much money on cigarettes, not getting cancer as fast, not stinking like a big butt when they get home....

So, what will this change for me? There are at least four or five gorgeous cafés in Rouen that i don't go to because they are smoke bowls. Our local pub i have shy-ed away from a few times because i don't want the sinus grossness the next day. And how about just the ridiculous vengeance of making smokers physically get up and excommunicate themselves outside.

It's so close now - i can smell it!

Confabulate - verb

A word that everyone needs. Use and abuse and/or enjoy.


confabulate • \kun-FAB-yuh-layt\ • verb

1 : to talk informally : chat

*2 : to hold a discussion : confer

3 : to fill in gaps in memory by fabrication

Example Sentence:

Before accepting my offer to purchase their handmade quilt, Polly and Linda took a moment to confabulate.

Did you know?

"Confabulate" is a fabulous word for making fantastic fabrications. Given the similarities in spelling and sound, you might guess that "confabulate" and "fabulous" come from the same root, and they do -- the Latin "fabula," which means "conversation, story." Another "fabula" descendant that continues to tell tales in English is "fable." All three words have long histories in English: "fable" first appeared in writing in the 14th century, and "fabulous" followed in the 15th. "Confabulate" is a relative newcomer, appearing at the beginning of the 1600s.

note that i find all my words on www.m-w.com (rubric word of the day)

funny nonethess - again

A little estrogen therapy for the ladies.

Again - in theory this is a real letter.
I got it as a forward.
Really, even if it isn't veritable, who cares?
I laughed quite hard. The sarcasm is great.
I've never been very good at transposing stinkingly
good sarcasm in writing.
She does a great job.
Enjoy.

This is an actual letter sent to the brand manager of
Proctor and Gamble...

AN OPEN LETTER TO MR. JAMES THATCHER, BRAND MANAGER, PROCTER
& GAMBLE.

Dear Mr. Thatcher, I have been a loyal user of your Always
maxi pads for over 20 years, and I appreciate many of their
features.

Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd
probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing,and I'd
certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight,
white shorts.

But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary
Flexi-Wings.
Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how
crucial it is that maxi-pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell
you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's
a little F-16 in my pants.

Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher?
Ever suffered from 'the curse'?   I'm guessing you haven't.
Well, my 'time of the month' is starting right now.
As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently
surging through my body.

Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and
I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call
'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' 
Isn't the human body amazing? As brand manager
in the feminine-hygiene division, you've no doubt seen
quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during
your customers' monthly visits from Aunt Flo.
Therefore, you must know about the
bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our
intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. 
You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.
In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the
violent urge to shove her boyfriend's balls into a George
Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought
Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that 
America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants ......
Which brings me to the reason for my letter.

Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful
I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus,
I opened an Always maxi pad, and there, printed on the
adhesive backing, were these words:
'Have a Happy Period.' Are you f---ing kidding me? 
What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager
brain really think happiness - actual smiling,
laughing happiness - is possible during a menstrual period?  
Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? 
Well, did it, James?
FYI, unless you're some kind of sick freak girl,
there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you
have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself
in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreens
armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life
in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man.
If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't
it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent,
like 'Put Down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter Is Wrong'? 

Or are you just picking on us? Sir, please inform your
accounting department that, effective immediately,
there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits,
for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. 
And though I will certainly miss your Flexi-Wings, I will not for
one minute miss your brand of condescending crap. 
And that's a promise I will keep.   Always.

 Best, Wendi Aarons Austin , TX

Funny nonetheless

I don't know if this is true - but who cares. Too funny not to share. Enjoy.

The questions below about Australia are from potential visitors. They were posted on an Australian Tourism Website and the answers are the actual responses by the website officials, who obviously have an excellent sense of humour:

Q: Does it ever get windy in Australia ? I have never seen it rain on TV, how do the plants grow? ( UK ).
A: We import all plants fully grown and then just sit around watching them die.


Q: Will I be able to see kangaroos in the street? ( USA )
A: Depends how much you've been drinking.

Q: I want to walk from Perth to Sydney - can I follow the railroad tracks? ( Sweden )
A: Sure, it's only three thousand miles, take lots of water.


Q: Is it safe to run around in the bushes in Australia ? ( Sweden )
A: So it's true what they say about Swedes.


Q: Are there any ATMs (cash machines) in Australia ? Can you send me a
list of them in Brisbane , Cairns , Townsville and Hervey Bay ? ( UK )
A: What did your last slave die of?


Q: Can you give me some information about hippo racing in Australia ? ( USA )
A: A-fri-ca is the big triangle shaped continent south of Europe . Aus-tra-lia is that big island in the middle of the Pacific which does not.. oh forget it. ..... Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Kings Cross. Come naked.


Q: Which direction is North in Australia ? ( USA )
A: Face south and then turn 180 degrees. Contact us when you get here and we'll send the rest of the directions.

Q: Can I bring cutlery into Australia ? ( UK )
A: Why? Just use your fingers like we do.


Q: Can you send me the Vienna Boys' Choir schedule? ( USA )
A: Aus-tri-a is that quaint little country bordering Ger-man-y, which is...oh forget it. Sure, the Vienna Boys Choir plays every Tuesday night in Kings Cross, straight after the hippo races. Come naked.


Q: Can I wear high heels in Australia ? ( UK )
A: You're a British politician, right?



Q: Are there supermarkets in Sydney and is milk available all year
round? ( Germany )
A: No, we are a peaceful civilization of vegan hunter/gatherers. Milk is illegal.



Q: Please send a list of all doctors in Australia who can dispense rattlesnake serum. ( USA )
A: Rattlesnakes live in A-meri-ca which is where YOU come from. All Australian snakes are perfectly harmless, can be safely handled and make good pets.


Q: I have a question about a famous animal in Australia , but I forget its name. It's a kind of bear and lives in trees. ( USA )
A: It's called a Drop Bear. They are so called because they drop out of Gum trees and eat the brains of anyone walking underneath them. You can scare them off by spraying yourself with human urine before you go out walking.


Q: Do you have perfume in Australia ? ( France )
A: No, WE don't stink.


Q: I have developed a new product that is the fountain of youth. Can you tell me where I can sell it in Australia ? ( USA )
A: Anywhere significant numbers of Americans gather.


Q: Can you tell me the regions in Tasmania where the female population is smaller than the male population? ( Italy )
A: Yes, gay nightclubs


Q: Do you celebrate Christmas in Australia ? ( France )
A: Only at Christmas.



Q: I was in Australia in 1969 on R+R, and I want to contact the girl I dated while I was staying in Kings Cross. Can you help? ( USA )
A: Yes, and you will still have to pay her by the hour.



Q: Will I be able to speak English most places I go? ( USA )
A: Yes, but you'll have to learn it first

When it rains, it facebooks

So, the facebook phenomenon has happened. to me so to speak.

In the span of a week, rather a few days, i had many (read ten or so - and yes i'm exaggerating by a person or two) i had all these "friends requests" on facebook.

strange. that it should all happen at the same time. with people from both sides of the pond requesting. anyway. i'm not sure how much time i want to put into the site.

strangely, before the friends requests came up i was thinking how sad it was that because i live over here now, that maybe, possibly some of the people i knew from where i grew up (there weren't very many really), and the people i knew when i was an adolescent i might never see again. most probably never see again. and while i was thinking this, i was thinking very intensely about one person in particular.

a guy i knew for most of my youth really. we lived in neighboring suburbs, didn't go to the same school or anything, had nothing in common, and the silly adolescent i was liked him and kept him as a friend mostly because i knew he was a good "friend". Translation, i liked the ego boost that i got from always knowing he would jump on me if i gave him the chance. It's always nice to feel lusted after.

As we grew older we started to drift apart. He was very smart but very depressed. He liked me because I was his optimistic-light-hearted-friend-drug.
He just got more and more, how to say it, heavy. The last time I saw him I knew it was more or less the end for "us".
Too heavy for me.

So, low and behold, the next day, i get a message from him on my facebook inbox.
How did he find me? At that time I didn't have an e-mail, i think. Anyway, the coincidence is strong.
And a couple weeks later, and after consulting the photos on his fbook account, i've decided to decide another time about resuming our friendship.

Gonna leave that on 'pause' for the moment.

So in the meantime, i have an apple crumble to make for the costume party tonight.

Short and to the point

Hi,

I'm drowning in work.

I can't get Ligia out of my head.

I'm starting a cycle of Wednsday classes tomorrow that starts at 8- which will require me to leave my house at 7 - which will require me to get out of bed at a bit before 6. Which of course means 5 something. Geesh is THAT early or what?

Students who want "this" or "that" have no idea how much work that entails for me. These days they're wanting lots and lots of "this and that".

The fuse on my windshield wipers keeps blowing. scary when it's pissing down and at night. Tonight i got lucky.
Probably should get some extra fuses then huh? oh, and a flashlight.

JD and i pretending to look for a place to buy. He wants city, i want garden. hummmm......

I'm jealous of my friend Kimberly and all that reading she does......

I'm planning on being Ava Gardner for Halloween. Yes I will look fabulous and also be wearing a "Hello my name is..." name-tag.

I did the same 2 hour class 3 times today. Safe to say the last session my brain was on auto-pilot. But they laughed at the same jokes i told two other times..... bless 'em.

Might have found a collegue to do some painting with. Mutual motivation is the key. plus i like her a lot. plus i miss painting a lot. plus she lives in the beautiful part of the Normandy countryside. yummmm, open-air easel painting!

and that be it for the moment,
I miss you all bunches,
L