"The palest ink is better than the best memory" ~Chinese Proverb
Showing posts with label HHE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label HHE. Show all posts

Saturday, October 22, 2011

"And stop sword fighting in there, too!"

I woke up on Monday with the usual crick in my neck from the world's worst state department bed, but I wasn't cranky. I was overjoyed that it would be the last time I slept on the infernal thing, because our HHE (all our important stuff)  was arriving that day.  Of course you know with an opening like that, there is no way the bed made it. I mean, most of the bed made it, but the guts that you inflate to your perfect dream sleep were somehow brutally separated from it's heavenly counterparts. I won't lie. I cried. But then I got over it, moved the crappy bed from Jack's room and back into our room, and put clean sheets on it. Okay, the maid put clean sheets on it. See? Already things were looking up. I hate putting sheets on beds. We also have no Halloween decorations and a teak outdoor table with no chairs, but nothing important was broken, and we are overjoyed to have our belongings.

A few weeks before we packed out from Virginia, on an evening when Mitch was away on a TDY, I decided to have a glass of wine. Or two. Maybe two and a half. At which point my teenager suggested I buy a trampoline to bring to Brazil. And even though I've never even considered letting my children play on a trampoline (I'm the mom who makes them wear helmets while sledding),  at that moment it sounded like a GREAT idea. So I ordered one right then and there, as per my child's instruction, lest I sober up change my mind.  And then I kind of forgot about it until it was delivered with the rest of our stuff. We had the movers put it together before they left and Mitch just stood there with his arms crossed and his angry eyes.

"Um. Look, honey, I got the extra big one with the safety net!" I said, encouragingly. He finally conceded that it didn't seem so bad with the safety net.

The only problem is, when the boys saw the safety net, they immediately both had one thought.


Sunday, October 16, 2011

Rainy Season

We are loving the rain. It feels like home, only wetter and with lots of thunder.
 When we're done standing around admiring the rain, we lay around and admire it some more.

Tomorrow, I'm thrilled to report that our HHE shipment of goods is being delivered. I'm dying to see what my husband deemed important enough to ship to Brazil, since the kids and I were in the good Washington during packout.

We are soooo ready for our stuff, although we have been keeping ourselves busy doing things like weaving baskets with debris from the yard,

Observing the abundant creepy crawly creatures,

Playing with orphans,

And designing our dream house (that masters degree in architecture finally pays off!).

I waste spend a fair amount of time on the crack that is Pinterest coming up with new ideas for Mitch to incorporate into the house, because he is a lucky man and I am helpful like that.
Keep your fingers crossed that my Bumble and Bumble hair product made it, because my afro is getting bigger with each rain.

Friday, May 20, 2011

No, ma'am, this isn't a dog, it's just a furry carry-on.

                                                          Photo by Mark Gesinger
We are never getting another dog. I'm not going to bore you with the details, but it's going to cost about 3 bazillion dollars to ship Seamus to Brazil in the middle of summer. In fact, it might be cheaper to just charter him a private jet. We are using Club Pet to handle the two (or eight? twelve? depending on the heat) week boarding, vet checks and shots, final groom (we want him to look good for the Brazilian bitches), and international health certificate, and they seem pretty good. They have been extremely helpful so far, and if he gets there alive they'll get a double thumbs-up from me. And if he doesn't make it, well, then, I've saved a bazillion dollars on the next post. I kid! I only wish I could just buy him a seat on the airplane. He's a much better traveller than Madame Barfsalot and Sir Arewethereyet. Maybe we can ship the kids as cargo.

The house looks like a badly-played game of Tetris. Boxes, luggage, purchases, and mountains of sunblock and laundry soap are everywhere.  I won't be able to live like this for five weeks due to my control-freak nature, so my plan is to sort it into organized piles for the five destinations (long-term storage-like my boots *whimper, our snowshoes and most of the furniture, air freight-like my kitchen stuff and extra clothes, stuff that will be put on a boat and take a while to get there-like our bed and not my boots *whimper, stuff we are bringing to Seattle/Spokane-just our clothes for two weeks, and finally, stuff we are going to store and bring with us on the plane from DC to Brazil. We each get two 50 lb bags and a carry-on, and I intend to use every ounce I can on my own sheets and towels, shoes, and kitchen stuff. But no boots, because boots are dumb and I hate them.

I have little color-coded dots for everything so the movers don't get confused. All this organizing has really put a damper on my relaxing in bed all day. It's so irritating. Plus, I've had to get up every day this week and make my own coffee since Mitch is off learning to shoot automatic weapons and crash through roadblocks at what my teenager calls "Jason Bourne Preschool" (said teenager also thinks this is much cooler than finding out Nirvana once opened for his dad's college band).