Mr Bird

I'm once again the guardian of Mr Bird. Just for a week this time. He loves me. I'm trying to teach him to say my name, but he just insists on being all snuggly instead. I wish I had a picture to post, but Rich has yet to give me one.

Wow...what a boring post this has been.

Congrats to any who have read it...

My friend the Hussy

My friend sent me the following update to demonstrate what I am (or am not) missing by not being in Canada. It really made me laugh, and I needed to share it...

you see, as boring elementary school teachers who don't have much excitement in their daily lives (other than, of course, the endless echoes of "he budded me", "she said the "s" word (stupid), "he showed me his penis" (i'm not kidding - this happens far too often in gr. 1!!), the girls from school and i have established "hussy nights". for these adventures (which, i'll be honest, have only taken place twice in the last year - too much excitement might send us over the edge), we meet at my house, have some drinks and appetizers and then have our handsome chauffeur (my husband) drive us to some downtown bar in the "Doug P." (the large, white 8 passenger wheelchair accessible van named afer its donor - because nothing screams "hussy" like a huge white van that beeps when it reverses). we then proceed to dance it up on the dance floor (always fun), have one more drink (if we're lucky enough to be able to face another drink - not that we are totally hammered by any means, just that we are old), and, by midnight (perhaps 1 o'clock if we are totally adventurous) have our chauffeur pick us up and take us home. it must also be noted that despite our best efforts to be "hussied up" (i.e. - a little make up, a strappy tank top, perhaps a skirt or maybe some heels), we spend most of the night commenting on how we look like we are wearing full body parkas compared to what the rest of the people at the bar are wearing!

Let's be honest...it sounds like great fun to me!

It all sounds so...Canadian

I was just listening to CBC news and thought to myself "He has a very strong Canadian accent". How will it be when I'm surrounded by them in a few short weeks?

I was listening to a BBC 4 documentary on accents/dialects last night (having no TV I feel very rustic...planning my evening around radio programs!). I think it may become my new big interest.

Mournful Strains of Neighbour Watching

Living about 7 feet across the alley-way from the neighbours has introduced us to the sport (game/pasttime) of neighbour watching. Last night Danni and Sarah joined K and I for dinner and we established that:

1. Half-naked man is actually quite well built, which is probably why he never seems to wear shirts. I would also think this demonstrates that he may be insecure, because any well-built man would clearly know that he need not walk around his house half-naked to demonstrate to his girlfriend just how well-built he is.

2. Ripply-Half-Naked-Man (as we've now renamed him) and Pretty Eastern European girl are actually a couple (we witnessed a little smooch and hug).

We should note that we don't make a point of peering into their window...we just don't think they realise that even with their blinds down we can still very clearly see in. I think that over time, once things like a TV, internet etc are acquired we'll spend more time in the lounge, and then we'll feel more productive and less nosey. But until then...

Last night Katrin heard the downstairs door next to us open, and then smelled cigarette smoke and heard some low whimpering and then some sniffs. She thinks that Violin-teacher downstairs may have been crying in her garden. How sad. And what a romantic thing for a violin teacher to do...cry in the garden...it's what symphonies are based upon.

Oh, and I heard yet more catfights. Apparently we live in the cat-hood. Waking up to these fights are becoming almost a nightly occurence...

Career Change?

This is one of those days whereby I wish that I worked with numbers or computers because they don't keep phoning because they need things, and they don't require that they be communicated with and you can just sit in your little corner and get on with work. On Saturday (at Rich's very fun birthday do) I met someone who used to trade fruit and vegetables for a living. I thought that was the most ridiculous sounding job at the time, but today, mixing with lettuce and cucumbers seems very appealing.

I've been coping with my anti-social feelings by doing my stats today.

I'm a friendy-auntie!

Congrats to Ange and Paul on their first little baby - Abigail Grace! I've known Ange since I was 7, and apart from all the aspects that actually go with having a baby, I feel like this is my first too! Ha ha! Isn't she adorable? She looks like a little marshmellow all wrapped up (that was my colleague Paulina's observation). I haven't put up the shot of Ange, Paul and Abigail because I thought Ange might be horrified at the thought of being on the net in her PJs, but rest assured that she looks lovely too, and they're a fabulous looking little family!!

And again...

Somebody else asked me yesterday if I'm Irish. I'm starting to feel self-conscious about the way I speak!

I played in a ball pool for an hour yesterday with a most lovely child. I think all adults should be required to do that once a month or so...it's good for the spirit, I think!

Welcome to the Parish Lockup!

Here's a photo of the new flat (we're the top floor) and our snazzy red kitchen...

We've finally figured out how to work our power shower and hot water supply (who knew that pulling a string hanging from the bathroom ceiling on a 45 degree angle towards the sink would make all the difference?) Funny British houses! We were discussing last night that we were almost as rustic as we could be: no shower, no hot water, no kettle (using the good ol' "boil the tea water in a saucepan" method), no television, no phone and Katrin's mobile wasn't even working! My cold morning bath was very invigorating!

We're currently campaigning to have our landlord pay for us to shampoo three years worth of cigarette smoke out of the carpets... Once we get some furniture we'll be laughing!

Bonjour Paris!

This trip's adventures included: a hotel neighbour who cleaned naked infront of her window in a 7 foot square courtyard (sorry - no photos of that one), Lisa and I trying to steal from the Louvre (we didn't get very far, as their coutyard art is very heavy and quite well fastened), Mark's amazing view, playing "spot-the-fake-gargoyle" (basically Lisa and I were mocking those who are fond of taking bad pictures of large buildings), and Pere Lachaise - the most amazing cemetary in the universe...it's so big it has streets and street signs! I saw: Chopin, Jim Morrison, Auguste Compte, Oscar Wilde, ohhhh...and a few others...don't remember who now!

Sweden!

It's been a long time coming, but here's Sweden (or at least Sweden according to Joanna): An authentic IKEA, a couple fascinating Swedish Slugs, and Patrik and I at the coast in Falkenburg!I sort of wish I'd taken a couple other photos...say of Monopol, but oh well...next time!

The Beginning of the End?

I opened up Explorer this morning, and to my horror, the CBC page (my automatic home page) was sporting *gasp* a VISA advert.

www.cbc.ca

Is this the beginning of the end of CBC?

Strength of a Bear!

My friend underwent some quite major surgery a couple of months ago. She's doing very well...mostly because she has the strength of a bear!

She's now walking on two feet again (with her crutches) and is doing very, very well!

Here's a picture of her very impressive scar.We know that everyone wants to see it! I should point out that due to its shape, the first several shots made it look like we were photographing her bum. We're quite sure this one makes it quite evident it's actually her hip, but I just wanted to clarify to ensure everyone knows that they do not need to notify blogger that I am showing dirty things on my blog...

Stay tuned for the matching one this time next year...

The Parish Lock-Up

Katrin and I will soon be heading off to hand in some paperwork for our new flat. In a whirlwind of activity after work on Friday we did as Londoners must do, and said "yes" to a fabulous little place back in our beloved Finchley (Central, this time) on the spot (talk about a rush of excitement). It's grand. On a road trip to St Albans on Saturday we passed through a village that still has its original Parish Lock-Up from circa 1700s. It's the place where they would stick rowdy people until morning. Not that we're especially rowdy, but we thought that would be a grand name for a flat to house riff-raff such as us.

Someday I'd like to open a pub of the same name...

My Quadruple-Barrelled Ethnicity

According to front page of The Times today:

"The government is proposing to rename ethnic minority groups along US lines in an attempt to strengthen and highlight their British roots. Minorities could be described as, for example "Asian-British" rather than simply "Asian" under proposals being considered by Hazel Blears, the Home Office Minister"

Does that mean I'm now (or somedday could be) "Irish-British-Canadian-British?" (Insert saracasm here)

Oh good grief...

A Day to Stay in Bed By...

First, the rest of my time in Sweden was incredible. Soooo relaxing, soooo good to see Patrik, Miriam and Sam again. Sooo much fun to have a 4.25 hour game of Monopol (it was the first time I've atually ever seen a game through to completion...having 5 people really makes it more exciting! I've also created a new component to the game in Sweden...I introduced the concept of "Landing Rights" into the property exchange negotiation, and I think the game will never be the same over there...sort of funny considering it was a spur-of-the-moment survival strategy on my part)

But then I had to come home. Today:

1. I found out I will need to move flats because my flatmate's American...friend/boy thingie is moving here
2. I got a £50 parking ticket because I was about 3 minutes late coming out of a presentation I had to do for work
3. My manager has resigned which really sucks because she was incredible. Ah, politics.

Well, that's life, I suppose. Some days you're the statue, some days you're the pigeon...today I'm definitely the pigeon.

On the other hand, I saved Mr. Bird's life yesterday. I hope he's OK. I've looked up bird diseases on the internet today, and I'm a bit concerned that it's serious, but I'll just say my prayers and hope for the best. Doo, doo, doo...

Oh, and I bought my very own mug for work today - it's from Sweden and has a moose on it. It makes me very happy!

Small clarification...

Because I can see where this is going to go if this is not stated upfront, I just wanted to clarify that "fem" and "sex" are the swedish words for five and six. You dirty minded people!

PS After almost a year of knowing each other, I'm for the first time listening to his band...absolutely incredible...talk about hidden talent/Mr. Modest boy!

voice of the "real swede"

Feels very good to have my dear canadian little big sister here... and to just have beaten her in monopoly... I don't know really what I shall write here but I feel like sayin something! Ett, två, tre - Imorgon skall det ske? Fyr, fem sex - Imorgon blir det spex? Sju, åtta, nio tio - Kanske gå på bio?

Hm? I say Goodnight!

Better than eating a swede...

Is being a Swede!

I have no idea if the swedes that you buy in stores are at all Swedish, but there you have it.

I love Sweden. It's just like Canada, except people speak slightly different, and there are funny keys like ä and å and ö on the keyboard. People hand in lost passports at the airport, and Swedish Monopol is just as fun as Monopoly...or maybe more so because you get to count out your spots in Swedish as you go by...

My vocab has expanded too. I've learned how to count to twelve, go to go and collect 4000:-, ask how much things - in particular umbrellas - are, how to alert people to the fact that somebody's not breathing or moving in the event of a bad accident, how to say the number 37, 450 and how to make plans for March 8th. Yes, I picked up a phrase book at the airport on my way out. As you can see it taught me many useful things!

Some of the sightseeing hightlights of the day were PATRIK!!!!, an authentic IKEA and a store that sells lots of Moose paraphenalia. We're going to go back there tomorrow (aren't we Pats?) It was pouring tonight, so we just stayed in and played Monopol (if you haven't picked up on that already). Such a lovely evening....the sort of unwind I needed!

Blog Change?

Over the last few weeks I've been feeling very nesty. You know, that feeling of settling in and starting to get comforable and wanting to spread out your stuff a bit, unpack, hang up some pictures and get a coat rack. I've been feeling nesty to the point of pausing in estate agents windows and thinking it's probably a good thing I've been spending my savings on travelling because if I had enough I might do something crazy like invest in property here, and that's quite a rash and permanent thing to do. I've eliminated all the usual suspects that might be causing this: No PMS, No breakups, haven't won the lottery, nobody's died, I haven't given birth to anything, I haven't eaten anything particularly unusual. I suppose I might just be getting to like it here.


I guess another sign is that while things are still new and exciting sometimes, I'm starting to find myself noticing less and less the big differences that come with moving to a new culture, and starting to notice more and more the smaller less obvious quirky things that provide amusement on a daily basis (like funny street signs, or watching the man who couldn't figure out how to access the public loos while I was stopped at a traffic light - the poor soul)

Anyways, all this to say, I think I might change the name of my blog from something that's less about discovering London (besides, I haven't seen a rat in ages) and more about me. I have a thought...that I think is worth a think at any rate...

Ahhh...young love!

I was just having a moment of staring out the windowness and I saw a teenage boy, accompanied by a teenage girl holding hands, walking his dog in the rain...

Awwwwwwwww...to be young again.

Soon I'll be at the age whereby romantic dog walks in the rain with someone I love will be complicated by rheumatism. That's OK though. In the next room there's a Mr Bird who loves me and that Rich isn't getting back.