The Real Reason Munch's The Scream Came About

Moving day...

Pack Out - Day 2

With 8 days and a wake up to go things are finally moving. We are on day 2 of the pack out. Poor Crash is utterly traumatized. All of this noise (tape screeching as it is ripped from itself, thumping, bumping, Italian men talking loudly to each other) is making me crazy. I can only imagine how he is feeling right now. I had to physically drag him from under our bed this morning and tuck him safely into the basement bathroom where he will be at least a little protected from the grating noise.

This pack out is not nearly as traumatic as was the trip over here. They packed up our kitchen, living room, and dining room yesterday. We had "Flintstone furniture" already delivered (a love seat, coffee table, and kitchenette), a TV we are not taking with us, a DVD player that is going in the express shipment, and the end tables we are getting rid of. With the blink of an eye we had a cozy living area set up last night. And we have all of the necessities for our kitchen. It is just like a home, with a little (OK, A LOT) less stuff.

I will be sad to see our king sized marshmallow bed go. We lose it today. From tonight until the 17th we will be sleeping in a DOUBLE bed, no box spring, only a spring to support us. Well, I am so grateful to have that actually. It still beats the bother of staying in a hotel. Another good thing we discovered is we have a pizzeria around the corner within walking distance that serves lunch! I KNOW! Yeah, I know after four years of living here we should know that already. Actually, in hindsight, it is probably better that we didn't!

I just talked to Tony, the head mover who also speaks English, and he says they will be finished today. SSAAAALLLUUUUUTTTTTEEEEEE! Once our movers are gone we can attend to cleaning up tornado alley.

23 Days and a Wake Up

So many things to do. So many things to think about. Should we move into a hotel for our last two weeks? Should we remain in the house? What should we include in our express shipment? Should we mail a coffee pot, coffee, filters, and mugs to our new home? Should we mail our pillows? Should we buy a new car or used? Should I leave only seven outfits? Should I ever return to work? Should we sell the VW or scrap it? Should we attend our hail and farewell? Will our orders ever get drawn up? Are we really leaving? Twenty three days and a wake up and nothing is happening. All's standing still.

31 Days!

How do you know when it is time to go? When the most magical things have become ordinary.

Count Down!

Thirty two more days until my return and our Norfolk HRO still has not produced a line of accounting so my orders can be written. Without these orders I cannot ship my car; I cannot have my household goods packed and shipped. What exactly do the lovelies at HRO think happens? Our stuff magically makes the trip across the Atlantic? POOF! We're here! I am trying not to get stressed and not to think about it because when I do I start getting so angry. I will be so glad come November 20th when I NEVER have to deal with those people again. They SCREWED UP my husband's pay beyond comprehension, leaving us owing the government over $6,000. They gave us rat travel (a free round trip because we extended) but because they did not know the rules and did it wrong, we now have to pay back over $4,000. I finally understand the jokes made about civil service employees. One cannot be fired without an "act of congress' so they are just moved from position to position that they are not qualified for leaving death and destruction in their wake. How do I know? I would happen to be one of them!

Bumbling Along Toward...

Let me start this blog with a couple of facts:

1. I am a pescatarian (eating only fish, and some animal protein like milk, eggs, and cheese) who has the caveat in my "don't eat meat contract" that while I live abroad and we are traveling I will sample the local cuisine, meat included. This is a sampling, a tasting, just to know. I stopped eating meat for my health, not for humanitarian reasons.

2. Jenny is a complete vegetarian (nothing with eyes shall be consumed) who does eat some animal protein (eggs, cheese). She became vegetarian for humanitarian reasons. Larry is a vegetarian for health reasons.

Now begins the story of my bumbling.

Saturday was paella night at our house. We invited over a couple of friends, Tom and Christ. «Yes, his name is Christ. That is not a typo. The "i" is pronounced like the "i" in is not like the "i" in I.» My husband and I made homemade fiery chicken chorizo paella and homemade Sangria. Christ brought Proseco, a champagne. I am sad to say we never popped the bottle open. There was ample, or should I say TOO MUCH, scotch, sangria, and fino flowing. Tom brought over two wonderful delicacies: tortilla de patatas and pata negra, also known as jamón ibérico. A little background about both, the ham and tortilla not Tom and Christ. (1) Tom is Puerto-Rican so his tortilla de patatas (which he can say really fast and rolling his r's) was authentic and full of flavor. It was cooked to perfection with just the right amount of onion and garlic. Mmmm. My mouth waters just thinking about it. (2) What makes pata negra, pata negra? Well, I will only tell you about what I read on Wikipedia that was sort of confirmed by Tom. It is black Iberian pig that is fed only acorns. Italian prosciutto would be an equivalent of the way the ham looks BUT has nothing of the smooth, buttery flavor that I experienced when I took a bite. It was divine!

So Sunday, the 10th of October, we meet Jenny and Larry in Rome for lunch and to give them a mini tour of the Pantheon, some fountains, and the Spanish Steps. I was animatedly telling them about Paella night and start describing this melt in your mouth buttery ham. It was such a strange feeling at first when I looked Jenny in the face and there was nothing there. It was flat. I could almost see her biting her tongue, and the strained tolerance. At first I couldn't understand her lack of enthusiasm for something so delicious, then it struck me...humanitarian vegetarian. Oh. Oops. Quickly I changed the subject.

Renee foot in mouth smacking herself in the forehead: 1,000,001.
Tact, good grace, suave: 0

Thinking About Home

I have been thinking about home. In the four years and two months that I have been gone my vision of what American life should be has really become crystal clear. Now that I am returning in just two short months I have the following American comforts to look forward to:
*Neighborhoods
*A library in those neighborhoods, within walking distance preferably.
*Places to take a walk where it is not necessary to dodge dog poop at nearly every step, or used condoms, or trash.
*Birds chirping in the trees.
*Trees.
*Birds.
*Insects (besides mosquitos) like butterflies and ladybugs.
*A strip mall near every neighborhood.
*Walmart and Target close at hand.
*Barnes & Noble (or Border's) just a small drive away.
*A mug of steaming coffee.
*Carpet.
*Hallmark.
*Christmas music played everywhere from Thanksgiving up until January 1st.
*Santa Claus.
*Christmas Trees.
*Sidewalks.
*Thanksgiving. It is a strange sensation to celebrate a holiday and it is only your house celebrating. The whole world outside is doing its day to day thing. I never knew how comforting having just about everyone doing the same thing could feel. It makes me all warm inside.
*Little ones running around all dressed up on Halloween night.
*School buses.
*Shoulders and pullovers on the road.