Life: Idiotropic

Warning: This blog post contains a bit of whining and a pity party. After 8 months, I need to vent. Don’t worry. This will not become the norm.


That was typed this morning. Things are calm and happy now. But this is how the last 8 months have been since we found out we were coming here. It has been almost a daily flip from a plan to no plan. To having support and a place to having everything fall out from under us. Schools, cities, houses, money, support, even orders and if we’d actually go... every issue in flux and still, still after arriving, the flux continues. We still don’t have a housing rate established and won’t for a while. Going off faith in the face of “it’s not my job” and “I don’t know” and a lot of “you need to talk to so and so” who tells you “you need to call so and so.” This has been my life and while for the last 8 months I’ve prided myself almost on being mostly calm and positive about this all, there are moments when I just lose it. That was this morning.

After A LOT of research, talking to people, reading, and discussing what city we’d live in, and why. After A LOT of talk about schools, contacting them and looking at printed information, and discussing what was best for our kids. After A LOT of arguing, making a decision, then going back over all of the information with people to re-justify our choices over and over again. After all of this AND a trip to Valencia, we made a choice that we were going to stick with. A choice that made me feel secure when nothing else was. We had a house. So at the end of all the changes and flux, I had a nice house with a nice landlord in an area that felt safe.

Then this morning we went to the NSE - our tiny support unit here. Kirk signed in. I talked to one of the ladies there who kindly offered to call ASV, the American school, suggesting that sometimes she gets a better response. She called them, then came back with the answer - that not only do the little girls not have slots there, but that Tiara, who had a slot just two days ago when I went there in person, no longer had a slot either because somehow in that last less than 48 hours they realized that one of their 9th grade students didn’t pass and now needs that 9th grade slot again. Did they call? Nope. Were they going to give me that courtesy? Doubtful.

So I felt like I’d been hit over the head. We are living in Valencia BECAUSE of Tiara - because she’s starting high school and will be going to college in 4 years and we want her education to be good, her credits easily transferable. We don’t want to push her into a Spanish immersion experience for these critical years.

But I was coping just fine knowing that they all had slots at Cambridge house, a fine school, but with no bus service to our area, until one of the men there pulled the carpet from under me. “You don’t have a contract signed for the house... you could look for another house, one closer to Cambridge house.” And Kirk seemed to agree. I felt like I’d been punched really hard in the stomach, the wind knocked out of me. There may be better houses elsewhere but I like my house and the area and I had a verbal agreement with some really amazing landlords. I didn’t want to break that. I didn’t want to start over. I rounded the corner and stood alone. The guys kept wanting to talk about it. I just couldn’t talk any more. Needed time to process. Got my pass photo taken. I didn’t smile and didn’t care. I look like a felon.

Then we got home. I had quiet. I had time to think. I’d agreed to see more houses closer to the school, but I also had time to look at a map. Cambridge house is between my new house and the place I’m in now. It’s 20 minutes from where I am to my new house, so how can this school be farther? Looked at it on mapquest. 15-20 minutes, not 30. Let’s rethink this.

We had dinner plans at our new house tonight and a plan to meet the landlords there as well, Manuel and Begonia. One moment we think of canceling. Then we think we’ll go, but need to be upfront - may be we won’t be taking their house. That kills me to think about. And then I say wait. This isn’t just a house. It’s nice landlords and a secure neighborhood. It’s a safe place when Kirk is gone all week.

We got to our new house, a deep breath of relief for now, hoping this was really it. The girls ran off to play with Francesca, the youngest daughter of the current residents. Tiara and Faye went to the club to swim a bit. Joung Mai cooked an amazing Korean dinner while I talked at length with Begonia, toured the house again, sketched tacky drawings on sticky notes so I can think about furniture placement, and looked at the state of the curtains in each room. Kirk visited with Manuel and Paul. When dinner was ready about an hour later, Manuel and Begonia left and we enjoyed a fabulously relaxing evening with the currents residents of our house.

And when we left, Kirk said what I so needed to hear. “We have to take that house.” Thank you. Relief. At least one thing is certain. We may pay more for it that we’ll get. I may have to drive a bit. But it’s one thing done. One less thing to worry about. And at this point, I really need that.

Wednesday.

I don’t remember... did I do anything today? Uh. No. Not really. Kirk was in Albacete for meetings the last couple days and coming home this afternoon, so I did make an effort to unpack the rest of our things here in our guest house and rearrange the racks of laundry not drying on the racks outside.

It was a slow morning, but I’m still in that need to take things in slow mode. May be alone I’d be more adventurous. Leaving Germany, I had so many regrets of things I didn’t do, the feeling that may be there were moments wasted or not fully used... but now, I just can’t seem to motivate to get out there - anywhere - even though I speak the language enough... it’s still intimidating.

The housekeepers came which was fun just because I was able to speak Spanish with them a bunch. It was nice to relax while these two ladies swept, mopped, changed all the sheets, and did our dishes speaking high pitched sweet talk to Misha, our 21 year old cat constantly.

Kirk had to pick up the IT guy at the airport and offered him dinner, so Tiara and I ran to the Mercadona to pick up a few things. Bread with local ham and cheese with tomate for an appetizer. Cous cous salad and chicken skewers. The meat guy kept trying to help me pick out something good, but I explained to him that I was in a temporary kitchen and didn’t have my regular kitchen to cook in. The skewers were perfect.

Anyway... that was it. Did we even swim? Probably, but I didn't even take photos - that's how lazy my day was... so I have no proof either way.

Summer is a good excuse to slide into the crazy Spanish schedule. Sleeping until 9 (or later), getting the kids down at 11. Seems strange when I look at the numbers, but it’s natural here, at least now, in the summer before the reality of the school year begins. Eleven (yes, pm) is a perfectly acceptable dinner hour here. Restaurants open for dinner at nine. A friend didn’t get seating last night until 11:15. It’s dark then, but cool with a nice breeze and people are out.

I read the rules in our guest house guide today... quiet hours are, appropriately, from 9am until 11pm. Funny. But it’s quiet most of the time here with mostly happy voices of kids playing on the trampoline near our bungalow.

Today was slow. I was irritated once again by these tiny bodied black flies that look like specks with wings. They don’t bite or fly at you, but they are funny looking and just there. In the shower. Sitting on the wall. It’s like spiders on the ceiling. They may be well intentioned, but I still don’t trust them.

Tuesday now, it’s been 48 hours since we ran our first load of laundry here with a washer that does a barely adequate job and still, we have things, even cotton things, from that first load that aren’t dry on the racks outside. About three loads now sit on my patio... in the view of anyone who cares to walk by. Not my idea of privacy, but damp undergarments are also not an option. I miss a drier - the softness of the clothes, the light fragrance... the clothes on the rack are stiff and smell, well, not horrible, but not like the dryer sheets I like which translates into not clean smelling to me whether they are or not. But the water is hard here... a thick layer of white covering the walls of the bathtub among other things, so I think I’ll keep the washing to a minimum.

I did accomplish one thing today - to make a few dozen wrong turns onto and off of strangely intersecting highways that doubled what was supposed to be a quick drive to the American school where I finally arrived to find out that Tiara who was supposed to be the hardest to place, has a slot and the other three don’t. I’ll call again next week as I was told, and try to hold out hope, but if they don’t go there - in our neighborhood, then they’ll go to Cambridge house who has been the kindest on the phone and has slots for all 4, but don’t have bus service which translates into about 2 hours a day driving back and forth for me, not impossible, but not how I want to spend this next couple years in Spain either.

We (meaning I) tried to do something touristy today - to see an enormous castle ruin that sprawls out across a hill near our home, but 5 minutes away in full view, the kids whining got unbearable with all 4 in revolt, so I gave in to allow them a carefree evening of swimming and eating ice cream under the palms. Rough life they have.

My first experience with a celsius oven, I completely burnt the girls pizza. The coffee pot; however, was easier to manage and so I successfully made my first pot of Spanish coffee, a brand that I got at the Mercadona with a label of 4/5 - one of the stronger brews meant only for about 4 in the afternoon, but something I’ll drink any time I’m awake. Refreshing after the last few years of the bitter German stuff that is only good in macchiatto form or when Tinny makes it.

Typing this on my mac to post later or move later to Kirk’s computer hooked up on the island in the kitchen. We seem to have a WiFi cloud following us around Europe where we only book places with WiFi/internet and strike out almost every time. The computer guy was here over an hour just in my bungalow tonight. Couldn’t get his computer to work either. Finally told the owner that the WiFi is too old (3 years old) and can’t communicate with newer computers. May be by Monday, it will be fixed.

After 6 days of traveling, though only half were spent in the car, my desire to avoid a car at all cost has won out over the curious photographer in me. By 1030, mine and 5 other gurgling stomachs forced my exactly 60 second drive across the street to the Mercadona. Tiara and I perused the isles there looking for what we know and what odd things we could discover. Shopped a bit. Tried some new things... random breads of which one of each daughter would like while the others wouldn’t. Loved the fruit. It’s delicious and cheap. But citrus. No berries, not even strawberries which really disappointed Luci. The deli meats are not what I am used to and there was no cheddar, but I’ll be able to get a good selection of French and Spanish cheeses as well as Feta and a few others. No pepper jack. No paprika paste which I use in my Hungarian and Turkish dishes. But this is one grocery. I’ll look at others as well.

A few hours at home. Pool for the girls and jumping on the trampoline. Me pretending to be productive, but dragging my feet. After 3.5 years of full speed ahead, this couple days of slow is nice. I know it will speed up soon enough.

Met the landlord and the current residents at our new house at 5. Getting there was fast and easy and included a narrow pitted road through the orange groves which is quite the norm here. The house was sort of what I remembered, but empty changes things. I’d seen it first liking it, but thinking that it was too small and wouldn’t work. Then with a lot of time and thinking with a limited supply of houses and from Germany, saw photos of the house again which helped in making our decision. The landlord was the clincher. He’s known as wonderful and has proven that already.

So, the house is nice. And will be nice. But seeing it mostly empty and a bit dirty was sort of discouraging. Manuel is going to paint for me though and I get to pick out the colors. He’s also giving us a new dishwasher and leaving some of his nice furniture in the house (if we want, or he’ll throw it out!). He’ll put a nice stone patio area in front of the BBQ where a dry weedy garden now sits. So I’ll have a small manageable garden area for vegetables, but not something so big and hard to maintain.

Dinner afterward with Cami who’s interior decoration skills and good taste make any other house look horrible... probably not the best place to see after seeing mine in dingy disarray. Oh well. The company and food was great. Burgers and a green salad with feta, craisins, and caramelized walnuts. Mmmm.

The girls got to bed about 11. Exhausted enough to sleep in the hot. I miss my pillow.

More Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126238&id=674507268&l=15399d8a07

Oh, of course, I have something to say here, was quite an interesting 6ish hour drive to Valencia, but it's midnight on the eve of Tiara's 14th and so instead of getting completely caught up on this blogging thing, I'm going to use this as a place holder and call it a night. Must get up early tomorrow and make French toast for my special girl. Will be caught up by this weekend's end, photos and all. :)

Ok... so here's the deal. I have wonderful children who are finally at the age of the road trip where one can drive 6-7 hours with out whining, fighting, or the well known "are we there yet?"

It's amazing. Just a couple years ago we did a 6 hour drive to Normandy that is renown amongst us three elder as the end to all road trips. The "never again will I do a drive of this length with all these kids" kind of road trip when at least two of them were still in their screaming phase.

A couple months ago I did a long drive to Berlin and the kids were near perfect. So I shouldn't have been surprised on this one, but pleasantly, still am. Each little had her Reisenthal bag of goodies including her sunglasses and ipod shuffle. Each vehicle had another bin full of art supplies, paper, books, learning stuff, and little dolls.

And not one of our three long driving days did they whine, least of all this one - the 6 hours from Beziers, France to Valencia, Spain.

So, the drive was fairly uneventful. The south of France for us looked quite a bit like Spain, so there wasn't any dramatic shift in scenery. We enjoyed each time the Med came into view. I particularly enjoyed the way our drive took us completely to the side of Barcelona and completely out of any significant traffic. Tolls were expensive and embarrassing - one credit card line didn't accept any of my card, so I felt the honking wrath of the French behind me in line until I could get help, pay, then wait for my change during more symphonic honking. The next time it didn't work, I offered cash saying "keep the change." And finally learned to go in the "manual" lane where an attendant took the money. We paid over 50 Euros in tolls. Tiara took hundreds (literally) of photos of clouds and highways signs marking the shrinking distance between ourselves and Valencia.

We stopped once for gas. This was interesting because of the bins by each pump full of disposable gloves. "Use guantes." Some patrons even brought their own gloves and aside from Kirk and I, everyone who pumped gas had gloves on. Is this a rule? I'm not sure. I don't usually have a problem with gas smell on my hands, so I'm not sure why gloves would be important here.

There was absolutely no place to park for food, so though I grabbed some brioche that Luci loved, some paprika chips for Arianna, and some wafer cookies at the gas station, we weren't able to stop there for food. The kids still didn't whine. Thirty minutes later we pulled into another rest stop, this one a large one with the building acting as a bridge that went from one side of the highway to the other allowing a you to connect to amenities on either side.

As Kirk put it, this was a "sea of humanity." We parked nearest the entrance by the grassy area and some picnic benches, so we had to pass through 5 long shaded parking rows to get to the complex that housed a grocery store, restaurant, and bathrooms.

Cars parked sticking out of the lane facing each other allowing space for people to spread out blankets, towels, and rolled up clothing between them in the shade where many people slept sprawled out. People of all nationalities from everywhere. A lot of Dutch sleeping. A lot of large families with kids picnicking, playing, and sleeping in the shade of the bushes at the edge of the place.

We picnicked too. Sat out in the heat and allowed Misha to have some water. I don't remember what time we began to pull away, but as we waited for Tiara and Arianna I saw a man get out his prayer rug, place it beside his van in the shade, and begin his prayers. His wife was out of sight and his children played right next to him.













The rest of the drive went quickly and finding our temporary house wasn't hard. We're staying in a small gated complex of private bungalows on palm filled gardens, a gym, and two pools. There's a trampoline next to our place - a nice one, sunken in to the ground so that its jumping surface if flush with the grass. The little girls jumped until exhausted, Kirk and I played ping pong, and we finished our night on the bit of fruit and crackers in the welcome pack because I just couldn't bring myself to get back into the car and didn't want to try to call for delivery - not ready to speak Spanish yet.

And I totally forgot that it was a holiday. Not until I went online and saw several "Happy 4th of July" messages, did I realize that it was THE 4th of July. We were just thinking of it as a happy continuation of our "vacation" and Arianna's 8th.

So, unable to find cake yesterday, I asked the reception at our apartment where I could find a good bakery. The lady took out a map of Beziers, highlighted the two main streets, and told me of several "famous" bakeries there. She forgot to tell us about the French "siesta." Just 5 minutes from our place we arrived in the center of town near the main street lined with trees, a wide pedestrian walkway in the middle of the street with cafe tables spilling on to it so that waitresses have to dodge the teens with their boom boom music to serve their guests their espresso drinks.

We walked down one end of the street through a few blocks of antique vendors looking and curious, but not seeing anything at "give away" prices and with no space in our vehicles to haul anything mid move. Walked back to the end in the other direction looking for a patisserie, but finding none, stopped for lunch at Cafe du Theatre. I had a delicious salad with marinated chicken, pineapple and grapefruit, then tomatoes stuffed with beef and herbs. Absolutely delicious.

The entire area was empty when we arrived at 1, but by 2 was getting busy. Shops were supposed to re-open at 2:30, but apparently not the patisseries. We walked again down the other main street, found several bakeries, but they were all closed.

There is one pretty square there with a fountain, statue, and merry-go-round, a long pedestrian walk lined with trees, but that was it. I think the pedestrian area off to the left might be nice, but we didn't go there and the other main road that we were told to see was fairly dirty, full of Chinese restaurants, and certainly not nice to look at by any stretch. There is something to be said for the user friendly, overly clean German city centers that I've been accustomed to.

So we left, rested at our apartment, then went to the beach again this time I went shopping a bit while Kirk and the kids played. Vias had a nice patisserie, and being a touristy beach town, it didn't close, so I found a delicious cappuccino cake that I knew Arianna would like, bought some baguettes and small groceries for dinner, a bottle of local wine, then headed back to the beach to play leaving it all in the car.

Sat next to a nice British couple who spend 3 months driving around Europe each summer in their camper. Watched Kirk build sand castles with Elise, then bury Luci and Arianna almost completely in sand.

Home for dinner, cake, and some packing up before our last long drive to our new home.

Boy, our lives are rough. If the girls ever whine about moving, I'll have to remind them of days like this... lounging on the beach in the south of France with out a care in the world. Surely this balances some of the stress of a crazy move.

A slow sleepy morning. We were told that most of the beaches clear from 1-4 because it’s so hot. By 11 were were ready, but wouldn’t have enough time at the beach, so hungry with nothing to eat, we ventured out to Vias, to see the beach, walk the strip, and find a good birthday lunch for Arianna’s 8th.

The narrow two-lane strip of road into town ended at a parking lot at the beach side. Each side of the road lined with restaurants, tacky gift shops, and expansive open-front shops of ice cream and slushies. All very typical of a beach town any where in the world, other than some of the signage, it didn’t seem particularly French. Just beachy.

Reading placards on the sidewalk, we stopped at El Jardin. Arianna got the fish menu - Formule Mer avec Couteaux, St. Jacques, Brochette de gambas, rouget et capitain, taboule et salade verte. Kirk and I got the duck menu which was amazing. All stuffed and happy, but roasting in the sun, we bought groceries for later, then had quiet in the cool of the apartment until about 4:30 when the breeze had picked up enough to cool us.

The Med reminds me of the gulf in Florida - tiny barely there waves, long beaches, lengthy shallows... But shells are sparse, so the beach comber in me didn’t collect much. Long rocky bars stretched out to the edge of the shallows each 100 feet may be all the way down the beach as long as I could see. Some of those ended in Ts built up so that fishermen could reach the depths where the larger fish swam. We didn’t see any fish in the shallows - just lots of people of all ages swimming, playing games, and relaxing in the sun. Even Elise walked quite a ways out into the water comfortable in the baby waves and shallow water.

Tiara spent most of her time on towels under our huge umbrella. I helped Elise body surf in the beginning, then joined T under the umbrella to rest and gather some sun. Normally we enjoy the people watching, but I think the number of older topless ladies put that to a halt. It didn't bother me as much, but T wasn't quite comfortable with it. She'll have time to adjust in Spain.

Tired for the beach, stopped for a scoop of “birthday” ice cream before heading home. I got coffee (good) and vanilla (below average). It felt amazingly good, natural, relaxing... to walk casually down the sidewalk towards our car slowly enjoying our ice cream until it was gone. I don’t think I had relaxed at all until then, but at that moment, the car was loaded, every one was happy, and I just felt the tension fall away. We got back after 8 and snacked on the groceries we’d bought before. Divided up into the two rooms we'd booked, and crashed until morning, one more day of beach left before another long drive.

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126234&id=674507268&l=5107008410

One LONG morning doing the Paris traffic crawl, an hour, may be more until we could drive normally. Played the alphabet game through it with Arianna and Tiara using the rule that while in France, we could use French vocabulary as well as English. That made the letter X a lot easier.

One stop for gas, a 10 minute power nap, and some snacks for the road to get us through. It was needed. After field upon field of bright sunflower fields, we hit the heaviest rain of my life, blinding rain so hard I couldn’t see the lane markings or the guard rails and navigated only by the fog light on Kirk’s truck and the faint shadow of the semi-truck beside me praying we wouldn’t collide. 2 minutes of terror.

That broke into sun, a river, and a lush green canyon of winding roads that reminded us so completely of Oregon then we crossed the mountain to the stark contrast - dry hills, sparse trees - where even the architecture changed dramatically looking more like what I know of Spain and no longer France... like California and not Oregon... that same line of change you see on I5 somewhere around Crater Lake.

One stop at an amazing bridge - the Millau Viaduct - that I’d seen in an email forward last year and never imagined I’d actually drive over it. Walked to the to the top of the hill for photo ops. Let Misha get out and walk in the grass. Found out that the handicapped restroom had a toilet instead of a hole. So thankful that the French don’t expect their handicapped to stand on little foot shapes over a hole. My little ones were horrified and ready to just hold it indefinitely if that was their only option. When we came out, the line was to the door with all the other stalls open. Apparently we aren’t the only ones who prefer to sit.

Arrived in Beziers in the spitting rain with a double rainbow ahead. Found our apartment without too much trouble. It is new - completely new having just opened a couple weeks ago. Even the dishes in our apartment still had the stickers on them from the store. The staff were bend-over backwards friendly, smiling, one speaking near perfect British English. We were starving, but didn’t want to drive. Pizza delivery saved the day - A boy in Bermuda shorts on a Mo-ped with a tiny box tied to the back, bright yellow with the red words, “pizza cool.” Had pasta, pizza, sandwiches for the girls. Cartoons on TV. Air conditioned rooms are nice, but why oh why doesn't our internet work? I'm going through withdrawal.

PHOTOS: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126229&id=674507268&l=5cf91330b9

Our hotel has a large breakfast which is fairly decent with a small corner for “kids only” with IKEA plastic bowls and cups and strange IKEA decorations sprinkled about. My kids ate mostly from the regular side of the breakfast room, but Arianna did venture over long enough to find pudding - coffee flavored. Seems a bit odd to me for the children’s buffet, but then again, this is France.

Got on the hot, sticky, crowded bus to Disney, off at the Chessy station, looked both ways, then just followed the crowd. Got in before opening time to the shopping areas for photo ops in front of the castle, but the areas with rides were all closed off until the official opening time at 10 - another reason to stay at one of the Disney hotels. Crowded, but not impossible, we began our day in Discoveryland where we learned the beauty of the Fastpass and got onto rides super quick. Kirk took the youngest on the Orbitron while Tiara and I took Arianna on Space Mountain. My theory was that once Arianna did the “scariest” roller coaster, then she’d love it, be over her fear, and then love the rest. My theory was wrong. She didn’t cry or scream and did give us a half smile after the ride, but wouldn’t admit that it was fun, nor would she go on any ride scarier than Pirates of the Caribbean for the rest of the day.

Luci, however, my adventurous one, was upset that she is not tall enough yet for Space Mountain and at the end of the day listed Space Mountain as one of her favorites even though she didn’t actually ride it. Big Thunder Mountain, the biggest ride that she did go on, was at the top of her list.

May be I’m just getting old, but the thrill of a hot, crowded amusement park is gone. I still love the fast rides, but want a park where the exit for one huge roller coaster ends right at the entrance for the next big roller coaster. Forget the shopping, random games, endless walking in the heat, and spinney kiddie rides. I want misters in all the lines and endless fast rides without the time spent walking from one to the other. Hot crowds with little kids is not my cup of tea.

The littles loved the rides - Elise cried through the Pirates line, but laughed while on it and did it a second time. They were disappointed (as was I) that there weren’t more characters walking around. May be it was the stifling heat, but we only saw a handful of characters and all at times when we couldn ’t do photo ops, so it was my costume-phobic teen that got the only photo and this was against her will when the others were at the haunted house.

I don’t remember the costumes at Disneyland (the original) being so bad, but oh my, the costumes that the employees have to wear here in Paris are beyond silly. I do feel for them. Tres embarrassing!

The end of the day we walked back to the bus through a maze of random vendors with their blankets of goods spread over the square, battery operated African dancers and walking cows being the hot items of the day wiggling back and forth through the crowds of hot tired people. It was odd. Made the tacky Eiffel tower souvenirs look high end.

Dinner was amazing - Lebanese food from Noura at the mall, a vast improvement from the bland Korean the night before, and sandwiches for the littles from a cafeteria. Sleep came quickly looking ahead to the 7 hour drive the following day.

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126233&id=674507268&l=9101e96300

A computer would be better as I am freer to be prolific when typing, but that is sitting in a box in our van while we swelter in a third floor apartment listening to the cascading water of the pool and snatches of unintelligible conversations from other open windows thinking if we’re hot here in Paris, oh, we’ll absolutely DIE in Spain.

This morning we played a symphony out of sync, bodies in motion anxious and hurried while emotions clung to minutes drug out, held on by thread, suspended in time for as long as we could hold on. Kirk was up at 5 to load the truck and van, fuel them and clean them for our drive. I arranged the odds and ends lying about, packed a few more things, and got the girls together. We were at Tinny’s by 9. It felt strange pulling up in front of her house instead of pulling down our driveway. Three large trucks were already parked outside what was our house just a day before unloading furniture and boxes for the new tenant. It’s too fast I wanted to drive away with the illusion that our empty house would remain that way, ours and empty, waiting for our return.

Tinny had her tiny kitchen table turned around and expanded set with her best china with pink roses. She made fresh coffee and set out prepared plates of schinkenwurst, ham, broetchen and sliced bread, cheese, and 4 donuts - just for the girls. It felt too formal. Nice, but I prefer the impromptu unset snacks when time stood still. This morning Tiara and I sat picking at our food, eating, but teary. It’s hard to eat while crying. The girls talked together in English and Tinny just listed, as she normally does, absorbing it and seeming to hold onto those moments, the last time we’d frustuck together for a while. I showed her photos I’m putting into an album for her. That broke the sadness long enough for some smiles and laughter.

I’ve been hearing about the guest book for the last week. So we pulled the patio table and chairs into the garden where the children played so we could sit together and I could sign. Tiara sat on the bench alone waiting for Charlotte and Gabby. I made the little girls sign the book first dreading my turn to put pen to paper.

This is easy. I can ramble on more that you’d care to read. But I hate signing cards. No matter what the occasion. And a guest book - this guest book - it’s just too hard. Her family translates the English words written on the right side, types them for her, then glues it onto the book onto the left side of each page.

Lump in throat. Searching to find the words that can somehow quantify what Tinny has meant for our family here. Teardrops on the pages as I write. Tante plays with the girls, then we talk. Avoidance. Smiling, talking about the girls and how big they are. Can’t say in German now exactly what I’d like to say, to express the gratitude, the feeling of closeness, the feeling of family.

Tiara’s friends have come, Charlotte with a flat tire and broken sunglasses. They’re on one last walk by the windmills, but don’t take any pictures. They’re quiet too now. Sitting together. Talking a little. Picking at the grass.

Kirk is ready. The girls are oblivious to good-bye. But. I’m not ready. Tiara’s not ready. Please. Not yet.

But it’s time, so we go trying to be strong, then falling apart for that last hug. Tante and I are crying, hugging, trying to smile, crying more and hugging more. “Ich liebe Dich, Tante.” It’s all I can say, but I know she understands all that means. She always did even when I spoke no German. Somehow we could look at each other and understand. She hugs the girls and me again. Charlotte and Gabby are crying on the sidewalk next to Tante. Tante’s crying. Tiara and I are crying. Kirk pulls away in his truck and we have to follow. Can’t look back though Tiara and I both want to. We sob all the way down the 221 to the autobahn.

“Do you want to put on some music, Tiara? The Fray?”

She won’t put on the songs she likes. She doesn’t want her favorite songs to be associated with this sad moment. We finally chose Jim Brickman’s By Heart album and sob all the way to the border.

Belgium and France aren’t the same. We didn’t live there. It’s easier now driving through these countries where we aren’t leaving so much behind. Stopping once for gas, once for snacks, stuck in traffic that ends up being slow only for something on the other side of the highway - a turned semi that backs up traffic on the other side for miles in the hot sun. 10.40 toll in France.

We drove through Emanonville - a absolutely beautiful town with a chateau and old statues - in France north of Paris on the way to Serris. I want to go back there. It was killing me to be there and not have even 30 seconds to stop for a photo or two.

The girls didn’t know about Disney - the little ones at least. Tiara looked at my calendar and found out weeks ago. I drove by about 6 large Mickey Mouse signs without Elise noticing one. Kirk didn’t have as much luck in his truck. Both girls saw them and figured it out.

Our hotel in Serris is old, but nice and has Disney tickets and a free shuttle, so that made it all easy. Misha was happy to be in a small place where she couldn’t get lost. We rested a bit then walked to one of Europe’s largest shopping malls to the Place al Toscane for a dinner that I cooked. Ordered Korean BBQ hoping for something along the lines of the Bulgoki we got in OKC, and got a couple small plates of veggies and sauces and three large plates of raw meat. Huh. Not what I’d envisioned. After a long drive on a hot emotional day, I really didn’t want to sit on the patio of a nice restaurant and cook my family’s meal. We did wait a bit... hoping we were wrong, but no. I stood up and cooked up the girl’s chicken and steak while Kirk ate, then he finished cooking so I could eat. Finished up with ice cream from a stand. French vanilla that wanted to be French vanilla but wasn’t quite there and cappuccino that was a cup of coffee on a cone - delicious.

Hot and tired. Emotionally drained. 11pm and Kirk and Elise are the only ones sleeping. The rest finally sleep and I listen to a baby screaming across the complex for half the night.

Photos: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=126229&id=674507268&l=5cf91330b9

My last full day in Germany wasn't spent drinking wine and hugging friends. It was mostly errands around the base and in town. Snapping just a few more photos, then settling in to pack and prepare for the days ahead.

I didn't even get a chance to see Tante Tinny which was profoundly sad, but may be spared us a few moments of sadness.

We did make one last run for some good German ice cream at a place with an entire menu of spaghetti eis. They were out of their chocolate spaghetti eis, so I got this one without the "noodles," but with chocolate ice cream, lots of fresh strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and red currants, and white chocolate flakes (the parmesan cheese). Delicious and filling. I'll miss berries in Spain. Who am I kidding... I'll miss this all.

Both Thursday and Friday the packers were at our house from early to late working, packing, and loading these two big trucks full of almost everything that I own - everything in our house.

It only took two days. The weekend was spent cleaning and sorting the random things left over - cleaning supplies, odds and ends.

Today I walked through my house for the last time. Seeing it as I did the day I moved in, empty and echoing. Before excited about decorating and filling a new home. Now in tears remembering all the wonderful times we've had there. It's not just a house. It's a community. It's a neighborhood with wonderful German neighbors who have accepted us and welcomed us. It's Tinny who I can't look at without tearing up.

In 36 hours now I'm driving to Paris. List of errands tomorrow includes buying Kleenex. My throat hurts just thinking about it.

Sunny and blue. Light breeze. Clouds over, light rain. Then sunny and blue again.

This is Kirmes weekend - my last sadly. So I've watched faithfully with camera poised as the parade passes by. Each year the same list of characters in their feathered hats march by. This year they all seem a bit more jovial. Laughing more, smiling, talking amongst their friends lining the street to watch the tradition continue. Tiara peers from the office window to catch sight of the queen just to see the dress she's wearing. The littles sit on the window ledge impressed by the real "queen and king" as if they were just as important as any other international royalty.

The music plays. There are some new band members - younger ones, shorter than the rest, but playing with just as much gusto.

Tante entertains the family with kuchen. An aprikosen fladen and a marzipan kuchen from the Becher bakerei and an erdbeer kuchen she baked herself. A goblet of whipped cream and plain German coffee - a little bitter for my taste, but good with cake and who could refuse Tante?

Kurt in his best clothes still carrying his cigar - as much a part of him as his right hand, I think. A permanent fixture like a teacher with her coffee mug. He puffs and smiles. 74 and still going.

Marita shows me the black paper invitations she's hand written in gold ink. 24 Juni. Her 70's birthday party will be a "Ladies Night" at the new Mercatur Hotel. She shows me asking if it looks nice. And so sad that I won't be here to join them. Ist slim. Ya. Ist immer slim. Moving is difficult on all sides.

The house is oddly quiet. 1 and 3 have left for sleepovers with friends. Luci went through multiple hugs and kisses before leaving. Arianna's at a friends house for the afternoon. Just Elise and us and a pot of minestrone soup. A moment of rest before I pack and clean once more.

And then just one more piece of cake with this lady who means so much to us. The girls have brot mit buter then go and play. And we talk and talk. My broken German is enough. And we laugh until our eyes water - a little jovial, a little sad. Her smile is infectious. Work will wait. Time stops in these moments. We'll cling to these special moments keeping them fresh in our minds even when we're countries apart.

My littlest girl graduated today from her pre-k program at the International Preschool here. She and her friends danced and sung for about 40 minutes before breaking for food and cake and playtime with friends. She absolutely glowed, smiling her biggest dimpled smile, waving at me during the songs, and watching for the faces of all her family members in the audience - quite the ham.

Next year she'll start grade 1 at the British school in Valencia. Such a big girl. I don't know who will cry more - her or me. She's still my koala.

On Monday we finally got out official orders. We should be on the road in 13 days. It was Monday that it become horribly real and harder to breathe. Excitement will find me in Spain. Now it's just loss and stress, dropping things of the list of "want to do" and throwing myself at the list of "need to do."

Seems "catch-up" is the game I'm destined to play. And here too. Have some beautiful photos from the last week or two. Will post as I have time - when I can once again breathe without the weight of this move holding me down.

Tomorrow I will add the photo - not a great photo as it was taken in a rush, but a photo nonetheless of a bird - a real, live, wild bird... IN MY HOUSE.

Because somehow it got in, possibly because I forgot to latch the window yesterday after jumping through it and so in the night the wind blew it open and it stayed open - wide open - all night. And I have no idea where bird was hiding all morning as all 5 of us girls scurried around the house loudly.

I think it was waiting for some peace. Arianna and Luci had gone. Elise and I were on our way out the door. Tiara had just reached for the key to open the front door. And from the slauchthaus, I heard the blood curdling scream followed by hysterical crying and the approaching pounding of feet. "A bird!!!" Tiara yells red faced and panicked. I didn't see her again. She went out the back of the house refusing to come back in while I went inside with Elise to figure out what to do.

I rounded the corner from the dining room to look upstairs and there it sat - right where Misha usually sits on the top step near the playroom just as if he belonged there. A moment later he flew into the playroom - great choice for me because it has the lowest ceilings in the whole house.

The bird chase probably only lasted about 5 minutes. It flew to each high point, then crouched down in a corner under the heater. I opened the window wide for it to fly out and tried to push it gently with an old puzzle board. So it flew up to the wrong side of the window and kept flying into it. Tiara was watching from the bus stop.

The poor thing was terrified. Elise was worried, but cheering me on. I was worried I'd be stuck there all day chasing a bird around my house.

Then he flew into our children's pie cabinet and hid behind the curtain. Cornered. So I grabbed a hand towel, reached in, picked him up, talked to him a second because I'd never held a wild bird like that and he was so beautiful with bright blue eyes, and then set him on the outside ledge of our window and watched him fly off into the closest tree. Poor guy. I think he's scarred for life.

When Tiara got home she asked me if I saw whether it was a girl or a boy. "No, why???!?!"

"If it was a girl, she could have built a nest and laid eggs!"

My other three all cheered and hugged me and thanked me for "saving the bird." It's probably good the middles weren't home. They would have wanted to keep it.

And... in other news, the first grade had their Vocabulary Parade today where they dressed up as their word, made a poster, and told the word and definition into the microphone on stage. Luci chose "habitat" and dressed like the Arctic tundra pulling a block of "ice" behind her with a polar bear and three penguins.

The girls had Sports Day today and competed in a bunch of different activities to the pretty cool to the fairly lame. I mean, truly, there is nothing graceful about running with a blue rubber chicken between your legs and one of the races did just that. After a while, the "running with various objects between your legs" contests get old and you just need another sport. The tug 'o war was fun and the long jump. Arianna is a really good runner - athletic all around, really, she does well at everything. Luci's a bit more dainty about sports, but still does a good job. And Elise just gives her all to everything quite proud of herself helping Arianna with the tug 'o war. AND... yearbooks went out TODAY! Which means it's OVER!

The days run together now in a ghostly blur now with so little time before we go, so instead of being my normal verbose self, I'll keep these short and let the photos speak for themselves.

This morning we spent in conversation at Funda's house learning to make her version of Kisir which is a bit spicier than Senay's. She also served Turkish coffee, tea, fresh strawberries, manti with yogurt sauce, a sweet pastry with nuts, and a break filled with potatoes. Delicious. Funda has travelled extensively and has lived in Naples, so her home is a reflexion of Europe with pottery, glass, and furniture from all over. It's beautiful.

Our evening was spent talking, laughing, and saying goodbyes amongst our IWC board members at Interni. My Italian friends surprised me with two beautiful bags from Lori's collection which meant even more since they are from a friend. I feel so blessed to have been a part of this. The women that I worked with on the board are all such amazing people. We've accomplished a lot together.

Made these with a friend today... love them. I'd forgotten how easy they are to make.

I essentially used the Joy of Cooking recipe, though when I make them again, I won't do the raspberry ones. Those are just too sweet for me, but I like the tartness of the apricot. Next time I'll make a poppy seed filling (crushed poppy seeds with a bit of sugar and may be a bit of white wine), and use that in some with or without the apricot. I think a nice mixture of chopped nuts (like a baklava nut mix) would be delicious as well.

The dough is extremely easy to work with though and takes little effort. Just make sure you chill it at least an hour. Sooner and you'll have cracking dough (which is what happened with my first batch). Thankfully, the ugly ones taste just as good.

With 30 days until our move, we all have our "lists." Lists of things to do, things to pack, things to toss, things so see, places to go...

On my littles' list was the Valkenier, a small amusement park in The Netherlands that caters entirely to little people. Not my cup of tea really - I love roller coasters and big rides, but don't like the crowds. Still, we had fun anyway and enjoyed some time just to play. It is nice when even Elise, my youngest, can go on every single ride. Their favorites were too many to count, but the clear winner was the roller coaster of apples with a decent drop that made it fun even for me. The haunted house was funny - not scary, but the kids liked it anyway. And the water slide was a hit though the lines were not worth the 5 second thrill. They left without complaint at the end of the day knowing they wouldn't be back, but we'll find something even more fun in Spain.

When I got back, we heard the tractors for a while. Since Friday there's been a fairly consistent stream of antique tractors driving to and fro along the B56 in front of our house. On Friday I'd lost count at 6 old tractors towing campers. Today I saw 3, but at least 10 more old tractors. Yesterday we saw a tractor hauling a long trailer full of people sitting around a narrow table set with beer. It's odd, but it amuses me to see just how many uses for an old tractor these people can come up with. I've seen them as tow trucks, carnival floats... it's endless. So, here's my theory. This place where I live is actually tractor heaven. Really. All the good tractors come here when they "die" knowing that they will be continually cared for, driven, and partied in for all time. Can't plow a field? It's OK. If you can haul a few bags of helium balloons, then all is well.

Random photos from the last week:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=116219&id=674507268&l=b4f74028a6

Photos from Monday:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=116583&id=674507268&l=ba0c3bf6c7