Sometimes, simple is all you need.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Simple is good.
After an exhausting week, we finally got pictures up on the wall this morning (photos of the apartment will follow soon). The little one is napping, L is resting, you know, being 8 months pregnant and all, and I am watching Julie & Julia dubbed in French on TV. Watching this movie always makes me hungry, but since the kitchen is a disaster I decided to go with "simple" for lunch. Last week, I discovered that our baker sells this amazing fermented cider for 1,50€. It is not at all sweet, and kind of yeasty, and somehow it is just perfect. To accompany this delicious beverage, take their amazing bread, add a little meat and cheese, and I am all set:
Sometimes, simple is all you need.
Sometimes, simple is all you need.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Bike Commuting: a photo essay
On my bike ride home last night, I realized that over the 10 km ride I pass through a variety of different areas that range from super urban to totally rural... all within sight of the tip of the Eiffel tower, which is visible from outside my office. The Paris region is funny in that you can be totally in the city one minute, and driving past rolling hills and farmland the next. On my way home tonight, I snapped some quick photos of my commute to share on the blog. I commute home just as the sun is starting to set, which means the light wasn't great for my little point-and-shoot camera, but hopefully these do the trick.
I work on a plateau about 20km outside of Paris that is home to numerous tech companies, and is smack in the middle of farmland and old homesteads that I guarantee were built long before the state of Oregon was established. Once I leave work, the first few km of my commute is actually through farm fields. I have no idea what grows here, but in the area in general they appear to grow lots and lots of cabbage and hearty winter greens that can stand a good hard frost. From here, I head into the woods you can see in the distance.
This part of my commute is super quiet. Today I saw one other cyclist and a runner, but otherwise the trail was all mine. This probably represents about 3 km of my ride. Once I get out of the woods, I join up with a freshly paveddog poop repository bike path that runs alongside the dedicated bus lanes towards the city of Massy; where we live. Traffic here is awful at rush hour, but busses enjoy a separate road so thay they can cruise right down into the valley towards the train station. On the way to work, this is all uphill - my lungs heave and my legs burn, and by the time I get to work I am sweating even though the temp in the morning is below freezing. On the way home, I get to fly along this downhill in about 20% of the time it takes me to climb it in the morning!
Again, no cars to speak of on this part of the road. This path leads straight to a bus/train station, which is a hub for busses, Paris region trains called RER, and the famous TGV. After 7km of car-free bliss, my senses are even more sensitive to the assault of diesel fumes and road noise. Right by the TGV station is Massy's urban renewal zone, full of shiny new tech company buildings, modern condos, and tons of construction of new high-density urban housing.
I work on a plateau about 20km outside of Paris that is home to numerous tech companies, and is smack in the middle of farmland and old homesteads that I guarantee were built long before the state of Oregon was established. Once I leave work, the first few km of my commute is actually through farm fields. I have no idea what grows here, but in the area in general they appear to grow lots and lots of cabbage and hearty winter greens that can stand a good hard frost. From here, I head into the woods you can see in the distance.
This part of my commute is super quiet. Today I saw one other cyclist and a runner, but otherwise the trail was all mine. This probably represents about 3 km of my ride. Once I get out of the woods, I join up with a freshly paved
Again, no cars to speak of on this part of the road. This path leads straight to a bus/train station, which is a hub for busses, Paris region trains called RER, and the famous TGV. After 7km of car-free bliss, my senses are even more sensitive to the assault of diesel fumes and road noise. Right by the TGV station is Massy's urban renewal zone, full of shiny new tech company buildings, modern condos, and tons of construction of new high-density urban housing.
From here, I pass under an old (but still used) train bridge and into the older section of town, which feels decidedly more "French". This area is full of bakeries, cafés, Turkish and Greek sandwich (gyros) shops, and old ladies walking with grocery carts.
Seriously, the difference in feeling once I pass under the train bridge is unreal - it doesn't even feel like the same city. From here, it's only another 1.5km home to our little apartment.
We have been terrible about putting photos up on the blog, and I promise to try and improve our odds on this. We made a conscious choice, when we started the blog, not to post photos of ourselves or of the little one. There was no particularly strong reason for this (hell, we post photos on facebook all the time), but for now the decision still feels right so we are sticking with it. That shouldn't mean, however, that we don't post photos at all!
The apartment is coming together - we unpacked the last boxes a few days ago. I promise to post apartment pics once the place is cleaned up!
- E
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Ramblings from L
I have so many "blog" thoughts that are swimming around in my head that this will be a combination of a few....in no particular order.
* When we first moved here, I was very skeptical about the milk and the eggs. The majority of milk for sale at the grocery store is UHT milk which is shelf stable milk. I refused to taste it for awhile and then I would only drink it in coffee and tea. Now, I will eat a bowl of cereal with it and not think twice about it. I am still not keen on drinking a glass of it but I have never been one to guzzle a glass of milk very often anyway. The advantage of UHT milk is that we can by a six pack of 1 liter bottles which allows us to obtain them at a discount, as well as, when we run out we can easily grab another bottle from the basement. The largest size for the milk is also only 1 liter so nowhere near a gallon. On to the eggs - when looking for eggs at the grocery store here, don't look in the refrigerated section. I have found they are most often near the UHT milk on the shelf or on end caps but definitely not refrigerated. Eggs are sold in either 6 or 10 packs. No dozen here... The 10 packs you usually only see at the really large grocery stores. However, the eggs have always been fresh and I haven't had a problem with them. We put both the milk and the eggs in the fridge after buying them except for the extra bottles of milk which take up residence in our basement until they are needed.
* For Valentine's Day, E and I went to Paris....so romantic. Haha! We actually had to wake up extra early to get all of us ready to make a 9am ultrasound appt. Since we do not have a vehicle, we take the RER (train) into Paris and then from there, usually a metro line or 2. I think it took us about an hour and 15 minutes to get there from the time we left our apartment to the time we walked in to the clinic. I much prefer the RER over the metro due to the stench of the metros which always seem to reek of urine. Not pleasant for anyone, let alone a pregnant woman with a heightened sense of smell! The ultrasound itself went well and the littlest one is on target with all milestones including being head down. So - um, yeah, their is no modesty in France at doctor's appts. I was asked to take my pants and shoes off and then to get on the table. Ok - so, I did exactly that...leaving on my underwear and compression stockings (which are quite sexy I might add). I laid back on the table and awaited the doctor to start the ultrasound. He looks at me and then proceeds to pull my underwear off. No warning...no "can you pull your underwear down a bit"..nope...just him pulling my underwear. Yeah. It's a good thing I was prepared with how French doctors can be or I might have let him have it. Haha. All is well that ends well...we received several pictures and everything looks well. We stopped on the way back to the metro for a "traditional" French breakfast. Baguette, croissant, orange juice, and coffee. Then we hurried back so that Erica could get to work.
* While we didn't have internet, TV, phone...etc... I decided I would potty train the little one. Why not?? Well, it didn't work 100% but I feel we have a good foundation when we start the process again. He was about 50% but has slipped back to almost not going on the potty at all. Not quite sure what happened but we are taking his lead. We are back in cloth diapers for the time being. Oddly, his favorite book during story time is his "potty" book.
* I was recently asked by a friend if we had found any lesbian mom groups. I had to laugh out loud...we haven't even been able to find any gay or lesbian friends let alone gay parents. I really miss the network of lesbian moms that we had in Portland but I am hoping that after we establish ourselves here, we will slowly start to find where they are hiding. Heck - right now, I would enjoy another mom friend that lived close by whether they were gay or straight! Luckily, we have reconnected with a friend of Erica's that she grew up with in Montreal. She has an adorable daughter that is just a few months younger than our little one and they play well together. Too bad it takes about an hour to get to her place. :( We are so thankful that we have connected with them, though and look forward to more play dates! They should be accompanied us to Disneyland Paris for Little One's 2nd birthday! Speaking of which - that is coming up in just a few weeks! I am really looking forward to it even though I won't be able to go on any rides.
* French TV - there are no commercials during the program. Interesting, no? The commercials are in blocks between programs and the programs don't start on the hour and half hour but rather at random times like 8:35 or 2:40, etc.
* Moving to another country where you don't speak the language while pregnant is not the easiest thing to do... between the cravings and hormones. Well, you get the picture.
* When we first moved here, I was very skeptical about the milk and the eggs. The majority of milk for sale at the grocery store is UHT milk which is shelf stable milk. I refused to taste it for awhile and then I would only drink it in coffee and tea. Now, I will eat a bowl of cereal with it and not think twice about it. I am still not keen on drinking a glass of it but I have never been one to guzzle a glass of milk very often anyway. The advantage of UHT milk is that we can by a six pack of 1 liter bottles which allows us to obtain them at a discount, as well as, when we run out we can easily grab another bottle from the basement. The largest size for the milk is also only 1 liter so nowhere near a gallon. On to the eggs - when looking for eggs at the grocery store here, don't look in the refrigerated section. I have found they are most often near the UHT milk on the shelf or on end caps but definitely not refrigerated. Eggs are sold in either 6 or 10 packs. No dozen here... The 10 packs you usually only see at the really large grocery stores. However, the eggs have always been fresh and I haven't had a problem with them. We put both the milk and the eggs in the fridge after buying them except for the extra bottles of milk which take up residence in our basement until they are needed.
* For Valentine's Day, E and I went to Paris....so romantic. Haha! We actually had to wake up extra early to get all of us ready to make a 9am ultrasound appt. Since we do not have a vehicle, we take the RER (train) into Paris and then from there, usually a metro line or 2. I think it took us about an hour and 15 minutes to get there from the time we left our apartment to the time we walked in to the clinic. I much prefer the RER over the metro due to the stench of the metros which always seem to reek of urine. Not pleasant for anyone, let alone a pregnant woman with a heightened sense of smell! The ultrasound itself went well and the littlest one is on target with all milestones including being head down. So - um, yeah, their is no modesty in France at doctor's appts. I was asked to take my pants and shoes off and then to get on the table. Ok - so, I did exactly that...leaving on my underwear and compression stockings (which are quite sexy I might add). I laid back on the table and awaited the doctor to start the ultrasound. He looks at me and then proceeds to pull my underwear off. No warning...no "can you pull your underwear down a bit"..nope...just him pulling my underwear. Yeah. It's a good thing I was prepared with how French doctors can be or I might have let him have it. Haha. All is well that ends well...we received several pictures and everything looks well. We stopped on the way back to the metro for a "traditional" French breakfast. Baguette, croissant, orange juice, and coffee. Then we hurried back so that Erica could get to work.
* While we didn't have internet, TV, phone...etc... I decided I would potty train the little one. Why not?? Well, it didn't work 100% but I feel we have a good foundation when we start the process again. He was about 50% but has slipped back to almost not going on the potty at all. Not quite sure what happened but we are taking his lead. We are back in cloth diapers for the time being. Oddly, his favorite book during story time is his "potty" book.
* I was recently asked by a friend if we had found any lesbian mom groups. I had to laugh out loud...we haven't even been able to find any gay or lesbian friends let alone gay parents. I really miss the network of lesbian moms that we had in Portland but I am hoping that after we establish ourselves here, we will slowly start to find where they are hiding. Heck - right now, I would enjoy another mom friend that lived close by whether they were gay or straight! Luckily, we have reconnected with a friend of Erica's that she grew up with in Montreal. She has an adorable daughter that is just a few months younger than our little one and they play well together. Too bad it takes about an hour to get to her place. :( We are so thankful that we have connected with them, though and look forward to more play dates! They should be accompanied us to Disneyland Paris for Little One's 2nd birthday! Speaking of which - that is coming up in just a few weeks! I am really looking forward to it even though I won't be able to go on any rides.
* French TV - there are no commercials during the program. Interesting, no? The commercials are in blocks between programs and the programs don't start on the hour and half hour but rather at random times like 8:35 or 2:40, etc.
* Moving to another country where you don't speak the language while pregnant is not the easiest thing to do... between the cravings and hormones. Well, you get the picture.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Blog Post Drought is Over...
For the record, I have thought about posting every night now for the past two weeks but have simply been too exhausted at the end of the day to even think about turning on my computer! It is finally Friday night, the little one and L are fast asleep, and I am finally able to spend a few quiet moments digesting the past few weeks and, of course, sharing with you! So, in no particular order, here are some thoughts/updates from the last two weeks.
1. STUFF! So, so, so much stuff. Why did we move some of this crap across the ocean? In all fairness, since the movers did the packing, I will say that some of this stuff was moved accidentally, but really? Here is a sampling of the ridiculous crap that we have unpacked in the last week:
- one box of Peeps, 2/3 eaten
- an entire beer stein full of U.S. pennies
- 3 toddler pottys. last time I checked, we only had one toddler. and one toilet.
- a key to my office at OSU (whoops)
- a plastic bag full of rocks
However, there were also items that we were really, really excited to find. You will notice a trend here:
- a jar of homemade pickles!
- 2 cans of refried beans
- 2 cans of black beans
- 1 jar of peanut butter
- 1 bag of steel-cut oats
- 1 jar of Pad Thai sauce
These might seem ridiculous, but these are super hard to find here. Peanut butter is ridiculously expensive and rare. Canned back beans and refried beans don't seem to exist, and neither do steel-cut oats. We have already finished the oats and only have one can of beans left. At least now we know what to stock up on when we are in North America.
2. Observations on motor control and motor learning: it took me 3 weeks to get used to an AZERTY keyboard. Now when I am at home, I have to change my QWERTY keyboard to AZERTY in order to type properly. What is amazing to me about this is that I have been using the QWERTY keyboard for years, and I could type without looking at either the keys or even the screen. Now, even if I try really hard and focus on looking at the keys in QWERTY, I still make mistakes. This definitely goes to show that when it comes to motor learning, we are not "hard-wired" for anything; rather, our brain circuitry is flexible and can easily learn new information while suppressing the old.
3. Bike-commuting to work is awesome. My commute to work is 10km. The middle 6 km are all uphill. By the time I get to work I am huffing and puffing and my legs are jello. But even over the past week, the commute has become easier. I am so excited to get back into cycling shape. And the bright side is that on the way home at night, almost the entire ride is downhill. SO much better than the other way around! However, biking here is definitely an adventure sport. In France, there is a traffic rule where people on your right have the right of way. Sounds logical, but what it means in practice is that you can be cruising along a street, with no stop sign, and the jackass who pulls up to the intersection coming from your right can turn left directly in front of you. Technically, he has the right of way and you are supposed to be reactive enough to slam on your brakes to avoid T-boning his car... or, if you are on a bike, to avoid being thrown over the hood of his car. This morning, after another driver turned left just in front of me, I yelled so loudly that he stopped his car, rolled down his window, and proceeded to debate me about how he had the right of way. What was so typically French about the whole exchange is that as we were blocking traffic and yelling at each other about who should have stopped, we were still "vousvoyer"-ing each other (sorry, anglophones, there is no good translation here - basically in French, there are two ways to refer to "you" - a polite way, vous, or an informal way, tu).
4. Immigration Update: yesterday we had the great privilege of spending the afternoon at the OFII (Office Française de l'Immigration et de l'Intégration), where we were supposed to have our visas converted into cartes de séjour. I say "supposed to" because I was able to get mine, but L was told to come back after the baby was born because the process involves a chest xray, which she did not want to be exposed to during pregnancy. What is ridiculous is that the immigration consultant that we are working with even emailed them ahead of time to see if L could still complete the rest of the visit, and got an email back saying it would be no problem. Again, as with other government offices in France, the answer you get is totally dependent on who you deal with, even within the same agency. As for me, I got shuttled through various appointments including a chest xray (where you stand around in a very large room wearing nothing but your underpants while the tech sets up the machine - no paper gowns here!), a "welcome to France" movie, a personal interview to assess my French capabilities, and a doctors visit. I was "assigned" to two full days of training on "life in France" that I must attend in order to be able to renew my carte de séjour in November.
5. Being a lesbian in France means you get to have excellently awkward conversations with others. We cannot marry here (our Canadian marriage is not valid) and lesbians cannot adopt kids, and in general it seems like gays stay pretty closeted unless they are in certain parts of Paris. Since we are so matter-of-fact about our relationship, we get to surprise unsuspecting people with our lesbian-ness. In a café, with Leah and Finn, after chatting with the owner for 10 minutes or so about how we moved here in part so that the kids could grow up bilingual, and that L was pregnant with our second son, the café owner asked us if we were sisters. Um, no. Sisters don't usually have kids together. Yesterday during my doctor's appointment, after L's name came up, the doctor said to me incredulously "wait... you are with a woman? that is not very common in France." During one of my interviews for my job, my interviewer laughed and corrected me when I referred to L as my wife and said "the word is husband". Needless to say all of these conversations ended up with awkward pauses when I informed them that indeed, L is my wife. Good times!
6. Hilariously inappropriate grocery store music: often in the supermarket, English language music is playing, and they keep the volume turned up pretty loud. Last weekend as I was shopping, a folksy chicks-with-guitars type song came on. The chorus included the words "I want to talk you about my girl... 'cause I loooove my girl" and I chuckled because I thought to myself, "no one here realises this is a love song about two chicks. Tee hee!" The second and third verses get progressively more, ahem, descriptive about their relationship, until the lyrics were so dirty that I was cracking up out loud in the extension cord aisle. People are obliviously shopping for cereal while two chicks merrily sing in English about f*cking. And no, there is no bleeping of naughty words here. For those interested, the song is called "My Girl" by June et Lula. If you click on the link below you can hear the song in its entirety... it gets funnier and funnier with every verse. Especially if you imagine yourself hearing it over the store loudspeaker while shopping for extension cords.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qA6DJRfsVbs
Ok... that's it for now. No more two week droughts for blog posting. More soon!
- E
1. STUFF! So, so, so much stuff. Why did we move some of this crap across the ocean? In all fairness, since the movers did the packing, I will say that some of this stuff was moved accidentally, but really? Here is a sampling of the ridiculous crap that we have unpacked in the last week:
- one box of Peeps, 2/3 eaten
- an entire beer stein full of U.S. pennies
- 3 toddler pottys. last time I checked, we only had one toddler. and one toilet.
- a key to my office at OSU (whoops)
- a plastic bag full of rocks
However, there were also items that we were really, really excited to find. You will notice a trend here:
- a jar of homemade pickles!
- 2 cans of refried beans
- 2 cans of black beans
- 1 jar of peanut butter
- 1 bag of steel-cut oats
- 1 jar of Pad Thai sauce
These might seem ridiculous, but these are super hard to find here. Peanut butter is ridiculously expensive and rare. Canned back beans and refried beans don't seem to exist, and neither do steel-cut oats. We have already finished the oats and only have one can of beans left. At least now we know what to stock up on when we are in North America.
2. Observations on motor control and motor learning: it took me 3 weeks to get used to an AZERTY keyboard. Now when I am at home, I have to change my QWERTY keyboard to AZERTY in order to type properly. What is amazing to me about this is that I have been using the QWERTY keyboard for years, and I could type without looking at either the keys or even the screen. Now, even if I try really hard and focus on looking at the keys in QWERTY, I still make mistakes. This definitely goes to show that when it comes to motor learning, we are not "hard-wired" for anything; rather, our brain circuitry is flexible and can easily learn new information while suppressing the old.
3. Bike-commuting to work is awesome. My commute to work is 10km. The middle 6 km are all uphill. By the time I get to work I am huffing and puffing and my legs are jello. But even over the past week, the commute has become easier. I am so excited to get back into cycling shape. And the bright side is that on the way home at night, almost the entire ride is downhill. SO much better than the other way around! However, biking here is definitely an adventure sport. In France, there is a traffic rule where people on your right have the right of way. Sounds logical, but what it means in practice is that you can be cruising along a street, with no stop sign, and the jackass who pulls up to the intersection coming from your right can turn left directly in front of you. Technically, he has the right of way and you are supposed to be reactive enough to slam on your brakes to avoid T-boning his car... or, if you are on a bike, to avoid being thrown over the hood of his car. This morning, after another driver turned left just in front of me, I yelled so loudly that he stopped his car, rolled down his window, and proceeded to debate me about how he had the right of way. What was so typically French about the whole exchange is that as we were blocking traffic and yelling at each other about who should have stopped, we were still "vousvoyer"-ing each other (sorry, anglophones, there is no good translation here - basically in French, there are two ways to refer to "you" - a polite way, vous, or an informal way, tu).
4. Immigration Update: yesterday we had the great privilege of spending the afternoon at the OFII (Office Française de l'Immigration et de l'Intégration), where we were supposed to have our visas converted into cartes de séjour. I say "supposed to" because I was able to get mine, but L was told to come back after the baby was born because the process involves a chest xray, which she did not want to be exposed to during pregnancy. What is ridiculous is that the immigration consultant that we are working with even emailed them ahead of time to see if L could still complete the rest of the visit, and got an email back saying it would be no problem. Again, as with other government offices in France, the answer you get is totally dependent on who you deal with, even within the same agency. As for me, I got shuttled through various appointments including a chest xray (where you stand around in a very large room wearing nothing but your underpants while the tech sets up the machine - no paper gowns here!), a "welcome to France" movie, a personal interview to assess my French capabilities, and a doctors visit. I was "assigned" to two full days of training on "life in France" that I must attend in order to be able to renew my carte de séjour in November.
5. Being a lesbian in France means you get to have excellently awkward conversations with others. We cannot marry here (our Canadian marriage is not valid) and lesbians cannot adopt kids, and in general it seems like gays stay pretty closeted unless they are in certain parts of Paris. Since we are so matter-of-fact about our relationship, we get to surprise unsuspecting people with our lesbian-ness. In a café, with Leah and Finn, after chatting with the owner for 10 minutes or so about how we moved here in part so that the kids could grow up bilingual, and that L was pregnant with our second son, the café owner asked us if we were sisters. Um, no. Sisters don't usually have kids together. Yesterday during my doctor's appointment, after L's name came up, the doctor said to me incredulously "wait... you are with a woman? that is not very common in France." During one of my interviews for my job, my interviewer laughed and corrected me when I referred to L as my wife and said "the word is husband". Needless to say all of these conversations ended up with awkward pauses when I informed them that indeed, L is my wife. Good times!
6. Hilariously inappropriate grocery store music: often in the supermarket, English language music is playing, and they keep the volume turned up pretty loud. Last weekend as I was shopping, a folksy chicks-with-guitars type song came on. The chorus included the words "I want to talk you about my girl... 'cause I loooove my girl" and I chuckled because I thought to myself, "no one here realises this is a love song about two chicks. Tee hee!" The second and third verses get progressively more, ahem, descriptive about their relationship, until the lyrics were so dirty that I was cracking up out loud in the extension cord aisle. People are obliviously shopping for cereal while two chicks merrily sing in English about f*cking. And no, there is no bleeping of naughty words here. For those interested, the song is called "My Girl" by June et Lula. If you click on the link below you can hear the song in its entirety... it gets funnier and funnier with every verse. Especially if you imagine yourself hearing it over the store loudspeaker while shopping for extension cords.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qA6DJRfsVbs
Ok... that's it for now. No more two week droughts for blog posting. More soon!
- E
Saturday, February 4, 2012
"Stuff"
At work yesterday morning, I got a phone call from the logistics company handling the delivery of our furniture and household goods. After an additional week's delay, the ship carrying all of our stuff finally docked at Le Havre. Shortly after clearing customs, possibly on Tuesday, our empty-ish apartment will all of a sudden be full of furniture, boxes, games, kitchen utensils, and the like.
And, although I will be REALLY happy to sleep on a real bed, a small part of me is sort of sad that our stuff is arriving. Sure, we eat dinner sitting on the hardwood floor (or on the air mattress). We have been using a box of Pampers as a dinner table. As I sit here in the living room of our sunny apartment (in the one chair we purchased so L would have somewhere to sit), the only other things in the room are dog crates, a stroller, our grocery cart, and a couple of the little one's toys. It almost feels big, this 660 square foot space we now call home. I try to imagine our stuff fitting in here and it gives me a minor panic attack.
I will be happy to see our stuff; because really, the vast majority of it is not junk. We have fantastic cookware, knives, and place settings. We have an awesome loveseat that I can only guess was originally from the 1970s, whose curvy back and armrests have been refinished in red suede. We have a dreamy mattress set and lots of toys for the little man. We got rid of a ton of stuff in anticipation of our move, and tried hard to only keep the stuff we really cared about... but now that it's been 3 months since I have seen any of it, I can barely remember what is in some of the boxes.
So here is my top ten list of things I will be very, very happy to see:
1. My bike!!! Time to work off the extra baguettes by bike commuting to work. No more waiting for busses and trains!
2. Knives. We bought 3 crappy Ikea knives for less than 3 euros. Given their performance so far, we overpaid.
3. Burr grinder and 4. Stovetop espresso maker. Instant coffee may be better in Europe than in the States, but it's still instant coffee.
5. My winter coat! 'Nuff said.
6. Our bed. Again, after several months on an air mattress... 'nuff said.
7.
8.
9.
10.
... I guess this proves my earlier point; I can't even come up with ten items right now.
What the hell is in all of those boxes???
Stay tuned Tuesday to find out...
-E
And, although I will be REALLY happy to sleep on a real bed, a small part of me is sort of sad that our stuff is arriving. Sure, we eat dinner sitting on the hardwood floor (or on the air mattress). We have been using a box of Pampers as a dinner table. As I sit here in the living room of our sunny apartment (in the one chair we purchased so L would have somewhere to sit), the only other things in the room are dog crates, a stroller, our grocery cart, and a couple of the little one's toys. It almost feels big, this 660 square foot space we now call home. I try to imagine our stuff fitting in here and it gives me a minor panic attack.
I will be happy to see our stuff; because really, the vast majority of it is not junk. We have fantastic cookware, knives, and place settings. We have an awesome loveseat that I can only guess was originally from the 1970s, whose curvy back and armrests have been refinished in red suede. We have a dreamy mattress set and lots of toys for the little man. We got rid of a ton of stuff in anticipation of our move, and tried hard to only keep the stuff we really cared about... but now that it's been 3 months since I have seen any of it, I can barely remember what is in some of the boxes.
So here is my top ten list of things I will be very, very happy to see:
1. My bike!!! Time to work off the extra baguettes by bike commuting to work. No more waiting for busses and trains!
2. Knives. We bought 3 crappy Ikea knives for less than 3 euros. Given their performance so far, we overpaid.
3. Burr grinder and 4. Stovetop espresso maker. Instant coffee may be better in Europe than in the States, but it's still instant coffee.
5. My winter coat! 'Nuff said.
6. Our bed. Again, after several months on an air mattress... 'nuff said.
7.
8.
9.
10.
... I guess this proves my earlier point; I can't even come up with ten items right now.
What the hell is in all of those boxes???
Stay tuned Tuesday to find out...
-E
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