Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Mean Monkeys
We had to do it, everybody has to do it, at least once. Visit the mean monkeys on the rock of Gibralter. We have actually been there more than once, and will likely go again. I love the apes, they steal and bite, and are greedy and selfish and smell funny. Everything that we the more developed cousins try not to be this mean little monkeys are and people pay to see it. Sweet irony or? Last time we went we didn't have to pay, if you are willing to walk the 1000 plus stairs up the side of the mountain you are rewarded with free visits to the monkeys, if you would rather drive you pay for the luxery. Fair enough, and the price also includes entry to the seige tunnels, which I suppose too one should see once, but need not see again. We save things like that for visitors, but unfortunately that one is ticked off the list, the next visitors will have to choose another Gibralter site to see, I think there are a few more museums on the big rock, the Barbary Macaques of course are always on the list.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Seville
Yesterday we drove to Seville. It took two hours. I can not beleive that between our house and Seville there is no real road. According to our navigation system the only way to get from ours to thiers on a road with no lanes that winds through the mountains. We followed blindly the navigation system, passing by cows on the road, some really big potholes and curves that made you feel worse than being on a roller coaster. Half way in our adventure I asked Harry if he had set the navi to not use big roads because he was afraid of the toll roads, me I will pay. He said in the voice that everyone knows as not wanting to admit the truth, that he had checked and it was normal roads, although 5 minutes later when he thought I had forgotten the point, he checked the navi, only to confirm that yes it was set to normal roads, this was the normal way to Seville. I somehow doubt that, we met only 4 other cars on this trail. Gladly so, there was not room for two cars travelling in opposite directions. In any case we got there eventually and the countryside was nice. We planned to visit the Cathedral, Alcazar and Plaza de Espana. I also hoped to plunk the men somewhere and do some city girl shopping. However none of that was to be. We parked in El Centro, which is as Lonely Planet so reduntly states the centre of old Seville. It is completely made up of TINY streets, like a rats maze. We lost ourselves and the car after we left it. No matter we didn't need the car at this point, and the streets, restaurants and buildings were amazing. We eventually emerged near the cathedral, so we went there first. That was also our second last stop. This is the biggest (according to Harry's fathers travel guide) church in the world. I have been to the vatican, its not bigger. This place is huge, insanely huge. We were feelign a bit gyped about the 7.5 euro entry fee but well worth it. Its HUGE. We spent the entire afternoon in there. We saw Christopher Columbus crypt, climbed up the tower, looked at the tresury and the three giant pipe organs. Impressive.
We then went to find food, and realised that we had also managed to wander through the Alcazar gardens without realising it. We ate in a bodega, then fortified went in search of the car, each with his own plan aboout how best to find it. My strategy: keep quite and let the men duke it out. Harry was using his camera as a guide as he had taken photos along the way, where as Harrys father was using his sense of direction. There were a few disagreements, but after only 1 hour, we found it, and determined not to let navi fool us again, we set off for home.
But Harry caved to navi. We were doing so well, we were on 4 lane highways, lots of traffic, smooth whide roads but the navi kept ordering him to turn around, telling him we were going wrong. I said turn it off and drive with your head not the computer, but Harrys head told him the computer knows better and he turned. In five minutes we were back in no mans land in the dark.
We then went to find food, and realised that we had also managed to wander through the Alcazar gardens without realising it. We ate in a bodega, then fortified went in search of the car, each with his own plan aboout how best to find it. My strategy: keep quite and let the men duke it out. Harry was using his camera as a guide as he had taken photos along the way, where as Harrys father was using his sense of direction. There were a few disagreements, but after only 1 hour, we found it, and determined not to let navi fool us again, we set off for home.
But Harry caved to navi. We were doing so well, we were on 4 lane highways, lots of traffic, smooth whide roads but the navi kept ordering him to turn around, telling him we were going wrong. I said turn it off and drive with your head not the computer, but Harrys head told him the computer knows better and he turned. In five minutes we were back in no mans land in the dark.
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| Seville |
Saturday, December 27, 2008
The project of the day
Yesterday I decided to clean the house. Harry saw me wandering off with a tub of hotwater and a dishrag and asked me what I was up to. I said I was going to clean the downstairs, hoping with that sort of girl hope that he would take that as a hint and decide to clean the upstairs. He didn't but after about 20 minutes, when he realised I was actually serious about cleaning the house, he asked if he could help.
I said no, just because I felt like cleaning the house didn't mean he had to suffer too. Wow, was that a mature moment from me eh? No, calculated risk taking was what that was. He said, he couldn't sit around while I cleaned the house, especially the floors which we do by hand with a rag. He offered to vacume, I said that would be nice. He did that, but got a little side tracked, needed a coffee to start him off and chased the dog around for a while with the hoover. Then he said he wanted to wash the floor, because it was too much for me to do alone. That is also terribly thoughtful of him I said. I knew my luck wouldnt hold out so long, Im now in the danger zone
He started with his bucket of hot water, but noticed as he was going along that the thermometer has not been hung on the wall so he did that, spraying old concrete and white paint on the section of the floor that had been cleaned, he decided then too to fix the light in the front entry, and then to repair some other things, too numerous to mention. Leaving a trail of handworker chaos behind him. I knew this was going to happen. He forgot his bucket and his hot water and was off fixing, hanging and adjusting everything, tools everywhere, and questions about where I had put this or that other thing that he absolutely needed.
He ordered me to stop cleaning the floor because he said he was going to do it, but I know how these sort of things turn out, so I said no no,, its fine, I will clean the floor till I meet a clean spot that you have made then together we can do it OK,,, so if you want to clean the floor you need to hurry or I will have it all done.
That changed the project focus and within a few minutes there was soapy warm water everywhere, threats to burn all my pine cones in the fire becuase they make too much mess,, and eventually a meeting of rags in the kitchen.
The house clean, we both relaxed. We have very different styles and ideas about house cleaning but somehow it got done. Well sort of because we still had to put away all the tools and things, but we can do that later.
I said no, just because I felt like cleaning the house didn't mean he had to suffer too. Wow, was that a mature moment from me eh? No, calculated risk taking was what that was. He said, he couldn't sit around while I cleaned the house, especially the floors which we do by hand with a rag. He offered to vacume, I said that would be nice. He did that, but got a little side tracked, needed a coffee to start him off and chased the dog around for a while with the hoover. Then he said he wanted to wash the floor, because it was too much for me to do alone. That is also terribly thoughtful of him I said. I knew my luck wouldnt hold out so long, Im now in the danger zone
He started with his bucket of hot water, but noticed as he was going along that the thermometer has not been hung on the wall so he did that, spraying old concrete and white paint on the section of the floor that had been cleaned, he decided then too to fix the light in the front entry, and then to repair some other things, too numerous to mention. Leaving a trail of handworker chaos behind him. I knew this was going to happen. He forgot his bucket and his hot water and was off fixing, hanging and adjusting everything, tools everywhere, and questions about where I had put this or that other thing that he absolutely needed.
He ordered me to stop cleaning the floor because he said he was going to do it, but I know how these sort of things turn out, so I said no no,, its fine, I will clean the floor till I meet a clean spot that you have made then together we can do it OK,,, so if you want to clean the floor you need to hurry or I will have it all done.
That changed the project focus and within a few minutes there was soapy warm water everywhere, threats to burn all my pine cones in the fire becuase they make too much mess,, and eventually a meeting of rags in the kitchen.
The house clean, we both relaxed. We have very different styles and ideas about house cleaning but somehow it got done. Well sort of because we still had to put away all the tools and things, but we can do that later.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Genalguacil village
Inspired by a book I borrowed from the school library ("Holiday walks from the Costa del Sol" written by Matt Butler a fellow Canadian) we decided to take a visit to Jubrique and Genalguacil villages. Matt says that this area is one of Andalucia's greenest and most isolated areas, well hidden in the mountains, with the villages on peaks of 575m and 559m respectively. Smugglers as far back as Moorish times used to hide in the area protected by the dense forest and steep mountains and Matt has mapped out a trail between the two villages that should be a nice 13 km walk.
It would be, if one could read a map! We started out fine and dandy, but then Harry let me have the map because Matt explains everything, as all hiking books do in terms of landmarks that one should see and being that I am the native English speaker I should have the better understanding of where to go. I translated the descriptions not wanting to have full responsibility for our navigation, knowing that at best I am inclined to go in EXACTLY the wrong direction, and at worst make a series of unsystematic mistakes that will have us completely lost in no time.
Everything seemed to be going well. Matt says: travel about 1 km out of the town on the main road, then when the road takes a sharp right, you will find a path leading up the mountain to the left and after a moderate 20 minute climb you will see a white house ruin. We found the turn, we found the trail but after 10 minutes found a completely broken, no sign of white paint ruin, where the trail apparently stopped. Now we are not sporty enough to think that we made Matt's 20 minute hike in 10 minutes... where is the mistake? The trail, really doesn't seem to exsit anymore, there are some remnents of paths, goat tracks really, could this be the trail?
As we try to deconstruct the directions, Harry's dad, ever patient, who has endured the 1 hour it took for Harry to organizse himself, who has ridden 40 minutes with the dog in the car, has made conversation with us for three days, and eaten our rabbit food as well, decided this is fine enough for him, and will not walk any further. He wants to sit in the sun here and read and eat our sandwiches, I mean we do not really have to make the 13 km hike do we?
Harry had other plans, and is now scouring Matt's book, only to discover I have made the classic mistake and have taken us to the east side of the village and we are supposed to be on the west, so in order to start out hike we need to be on the other side of town.
Opps, he decided as his father had, to have a beer and eat his sandwich.
But I still wanted to go to Genalguacil, as I had read in Matt's description that this is a town filled with artisans and that sculptures can be found all over the village: After all Harry's father is here to visit and may not come back and he HAS TO SEE ALL OF THE WONDRFUL THINGS IN SPAIN, so the men decided (to appease me) they would drive me there, but not now, later, first we would sun bathe.
After a few hours, all feeling positively exothermic, happy and energized from the baking, we wandered back to the car and proceeded to drive on the windy road down the side of Jubrique mountain, and up the side of Genalguacil, with Harry exclaining every five minutes that Jörg has to come visit so they can ride these curves together on the bikes.
We found the village, and the only thing Harry's father wanted to do was have a coffee, while I was eager to show him the sculptures, he was eager for a cafe con leche. He decided to look around the village to accomdiate me, and I sat unruhig in my chair as he drank his coffee, then we packed all back into the Opel Corsa convy and went home.
We found the village, and the only thing Harry's father wanted to do was have a coffee, while I was eager to show him the sculptures, he was eager for a cafe con leche. He decided to look around the village to accomdiate me, and I sat unruhig in my chair as he drank his coffee, then we packed all back into the Opel Corsa convy and went home.
What did I learn from yesterday:
1. Never never never let me have the map, regardless of what language it is printed in.
1. Never never never let me have the map, regardless of what language it is printed in.2. Being a tour guide is hard work, particularly when you do not know your touree what he would like to see before you set out
3. Polite people never tell you what they really want to do
4. Genalguacil is a pretty great little village once you eventually get there
5. Oh and the dog looks really cute in flowers.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
The Work Christmas Party
There are two types of people in this world, those that look forward to the School Christmas party for 12 months, and those that dread it. I am the latter, so is Harry. When he found out that families were not invited to the schools party, he added that to his lost of reasons why we can never leave Spain, tried to look sad and said, he was very very dissapointed that he could not join me in the fun. Great, that makes an already bad scene for me even worse, now I have absolutely no one to talk to there as I try to hide in the corner. I am at my best socially (which is never that good) in groups of two or three, five works in a stretch, but a work party always involves sitting at a table with 10 plus, most of which I do not know, because again, I am not my most social at work,, I mean its WORK?!? I am of the mind that I am supposed to be working when I am there.. so you see I am not really the water cooler, coffee break sort, which I recognize is in many ways an anti-social characteristic, but I think I am too old to change.
Now, please, do not in any way get me wrong. I work with great people, on first impressions, which is all I really have because of aforementioned reasons they seem really nice. But in large groups, with an open bar and the thought of no work for 3 weeks, oh and an organized bus ride to take us all home. I will stop there, I am sure you get the picture.
It started out well enough, a nice glass of wine as we walked in the door, but then we had a random prize giving, and tequilla, vodka and whisky were among the prizes. I highly doubt any of these prizes made it home. As I sat suffering through yet another Spainish attempt at vegetarian meals, luckly this one not involving fish or chicken, but rather a big plate of raw, unspiced tofu and TRYING oh so unsuccessfully to build that little conversation corner of 3-4 people that I need to be able to feel comfortable enough to speak, the woman accross from me realised the balloons on the table were filled with helium. This started several people on our table dismantling the centerpiece in order to sing jingle bells with the voice of a mouse, amusing? It only went down hill from there, after being peer pressured into a tequilla shot, I was then asked to dance, in a brightly lit room at 3 in the afternoon, to a song I had never heard of and wasn't particularly feeling, by my boss. I can not say no can I? Again, he was trying to bring anti-social me into the meele, but I remained firmly the stick in the mud. As everyone got up on the dance floor, one of the maintence staff began to strip, with cheers all around. I took that as my oportunity to run away, without saying goodbye. So rude, I know, but I just can not deal.
But just when I thought I was free...
Did I mention where the party was? Again, it was at one of those places that you either love or hate. Luxery pure, a golf resort community. We were at the main club house of the resort, with gold greens all around, luxery homes, holiday allotments to rent in pure disney world fashion. I am one of the haters or these built communities. AND I was lost in it. As I tried to escape I drove past horse jumping arenas, men in golf carts, driving ranges, swimming pools, house after house of multimillion dollar homes, owned by the beautiful people, and all I could think, was get me out of here, what a prision. I couldn't escape, not the party, not the place, trapped.
Thirty minutes later, as the panic subsided I found the exit, by using a multitude of different strategies I found an exit, it wasn't the one that I wanted but it got me out. But more than that I had come to accept my fate. I will have to go through another Christmas party again next year, like finding the exit to golfers paradise, I definetly need a new strategy.
Now, please, do not in any way get me wrong. I work with great people, on first impressions, which is all I really have because of aforementioned reasons they seem really nice. But in large groups, with an open bar and the thought of no work for 3 weeks, oh and an organized bus ride to take us all home. I will stop there, I am sure you get the picture.
It started out well enough, a nice glass of wine as we walked in the door, but then we had a random prize giving, and tequilla, vodka and whisky were among the prizes. I highly doubt any of these prizes made it home. As I sat suffering through yet another Spainish attempt at vegetarian meals, luckly this one not involving fish or chicken, but rather a big plate of raw, unspiced tofu and TRYING oh so unsuccessfully to build that little conversation corner of 3-4 people that I need to be able to feel comfortable enough to speak, the woman accross from me realised the balloons on the table were filled with helium. This started several people on our table dismantling the centerpiece in order to sing jingle bells with the voice of a mouse, amusing? It only went down hill from there, after being peer pressured into a tequilla shot, I was then asked to dance, in a brightly lit room at 3 in the afternoon, to a song I had never heard of and wasn't particularly feeling, by my boss. I can not say no can I? Again, he was trying to bring anti-social me into the meele, but I remained firmly the stick in the mud. As everyone got up on the dance floor, one of the maintence staff began to strip, with cheers all around. I took that as my oportunity to run away, without saying goodbye. So rude, I know, but I just can not deal.
But just when I thought I was free...
Did I mention where the party was? Again, it was at one of those places that you either love or hate. Luxery pure, a golf resort community. We were at the main club house of the resort, with gold greens all around, luxery homes, holiday allotments to rent in pure disney world fashion. I am one of the haters or these built communities. AND I was lost in it. As I tried to escape I drove past horse jumping arenas, men in golf carts, driving ranges, swimming pools, house after house of multimillion dollar homes, owned by the beautiful people, and all I could think, was get me out of here, what a prision. I couldn't escape, not the party, not the place, trapped.
Thirty minutes later, as the panic subsided I found the exit, by using a multitude of different strategies I found an exit, it wasn't the one that I wanted but it got me out. But more than that I had come to accept my fate. I will have to go through another Christmas party again next year, like finding the exit to golfers paradise, I definetly need a new strategy.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Quiet
I haven't written anything in a few weeks. I had no Internet and no phone. It is a very long and dull story which inlcudes many explicatives with reference to Telephonica the local phone company, whose customer service system for phone calls includes predominantly pacifying the customer by telling them someone will call them in the next few days, and promptly throwing all records of the calls in the garbage, particularly if you call the Enlish speakin department. But now, interestingly enough, exactly 4 weeks, exactly the time period of which we have the legal right to STOP PAYING the bill for non service, our phone miraculously works again! Go figure. In any case, the telephone man, who is merely a pawn in the multinational monster, was quite nice and Harry plied him with my homemade Christmas cookies, so next time we have a problem we may be able to call him directly and get him to come more quickly. We also got him to take away our rental phone, which is costing us a fortune, however, the next battle is for Telephonica to allow us to stop paying for it, the fact that we no longer possess it means nothing, there are forms to fill, people to call and all of that. Harry says he is glad I have a nemisis, because it gives me a good outlet for my negative thoughts, otherwise I may take my bad day out on him.. Now when I have a bad day I call Telephonica.. he hopes our phone issues are never solved!
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I would like my new house better if I had a key
We have been at the new house a few days now, but we only have one key for the front door. Harry takes it because I dont need it in the day and he does. For the last two days I have spent the evenings sitting in the old house without light (we took all the lamps to the new house). So here I sit in the dark again, with Internet and now way of contacting my boyfriend.
Here is what I tried so far:
1. I sent him an sms when I realised my battery was empty on my phone to tell him when I was coming home.
2. I yelled for awhile outside the door.
3. I decided to wait in the old house till dark and he came looking for me
but then yeah.. I discovered his handy, his German handy in the old house.
4. I called him on his Spanish handy using his German handy...
Thankfully he answered, that call probably cost us 5 euros, but who cares its better than sitting in the dark even with Internet, now I can go home soon.
Here is what I tried so far:
1. I sent him an sms when I realised my battery was empty on my phone to tell him when I was coming home.
2. I yelled for awhile outside the door.
3. I decided to wait in the old house till dark and he came looking for me
but then yeah.. I discovered his handy, his German handy in the old house.
4. I called him on his Spanish handy using his German handy...
Thankfully he answered, that call probably cost us 5 euros, but who cares its better than sitting in the dark even with Internet, now I can go home soon.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Communication issues part 2
This one is way worse than accidentally calling the emergency line. This one isn't funny, it is sad and Paula was the victim. When we got Paula from the shelter, they told us she needed to be spayed, this is fine, we payed for the operation when we took her from the shelter, that is the policy. But the owner of the shelter told me it was possible she had already been spayed. Someone had tried to adopt her before, and the owner thought that the dog had been operated on then, the adoption fell through and the dog came back. He couldn't find the records though, he said we should ask the vet. He said all of this in English. Harry was standing next to me when he said it.
Harry took the dog to the vet, the vet speaks Spanish only but has an assistant that translates. Harry asked if he could tell if she was spayed already, the vet looked at her belly and said no and made an appointment.
The day came and Paula was opened up, only for the vet to discover she HAD been previously spayed. Poor thing. Sick sick and feeling miserable after the drugs, she now has to wear a cone on her head for ten days, it looks like she is going to have a big scar on her previously scarless belly, and has to take a pill everyday for the next two weeks. Poor pathetic thing.
Be it lack or record keeping, Harry not understnading how probable it was that she had the operation because he didnt understand the shelter owner, the vet not understanding Harry as he asked if she was spayed, and thinking he said she needed to be spayed.. In any case it was a sad mistake. But the conehead is kind of funny.
Harry took the dog to the vet, the vet speaks Spanish only but has an assistant that translates. Harry asked if he could tell if she was spayed already, the vet looked at her belly and said no and made an appointment.
The day came and Paula was opened up, only for the vet to discover she HAD been previously spayed. Poor thing. Sick sick and feeling miserable after the drugs, she now has to wear a cone on her head for ten days, it looks like she is going to have a big scar on her previously scarless belly, and has to take a pill everyday for the next two weeks. Poor pathetic thing.
Be it lack or record keeping, Harry not understnading how probable it was that she had the operation because he didnt understand the shelter owner, the vet not understanding Harry as he asked if she was spayed, and thinking he said she needed to be spayed.. In any case it was a sad mistake. But the conehead is kind of funny.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Last weekend
We had beautiful weather, so we went for a walk on Saturday, along the river. Harry had the idea that we should walk along the river until we met a small bridge that he had seen when riding the bike. He didn't tell me that the path along the river stopped before the bridge, well before the bridge. We had a big adventure crawling over rocks and around them, meeting cows and crawling through bushes before giving up on finding the bridge. We came to a road though eventually and discovered we were more than 10 kms away from Ximena, our village... like I said, good that it was a nice day, we walked home along the road.. looking at the valley we have walked through from above, it was really beautiful. On Sunday we took the bike out and went to a middle ages festival in Ronda. What a great town! I wish we could live there, it is so beautiful, and a big enough to be really interesting. Harry was more impressed with the middle ages childrens rides, than anything else, except maybe the bike ride up the mountains as that was also incredible. The one thing I can say about southern Spain is that it has astounding scenery. The pictures say it better than I can so I will stop writing now.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Harry's horrible rotten day
I am sort of jelous of Harry sometimes.
I have to get up early and go to work, my hours are bought and paid for by someone else, about 135 days a year, Monday to Friday, and sometimes weekends. Meanwhile, Harry works a but less, but more intense, he will work for 10 days in a row no break, 10 hours a day, and then he has the rest of the month free, the other 21 days are his, he can sleep late, and enjoy the sun of the day. I envy that, somedays more than others.
Today was one of those days. I woke late, hurried to school, knowing I have a full 5 days ahead of me. With a big sigh I went, thinking of the nice day Harry would have. His day was not totally his own though, we are moving, his job today was to move one room, thats all one room, not a big deal we thought.
So he started the morning with me, made my coffee, walked me to the car carried my school bag, kissed me good-bye and then heeaded back to the house for a lazy breakfast. After breakfast he decided to walk the dog. The first thing the dog did, was jump in a pile of manure, and roll, A LOT. So Harry took the dog back to the house and bathed her in the tub, "with shampoo and everything so she will smell nice for her doctors appointment tomorow" he said. The dog protested. It took a long time, and the bathtub looks like a war took place in there.
Then he decided it was time to start moving. He drove the van, which is too big for Ximena streets, up to the house, it takes awhile but it goes. He parked it in front of the house, which is at the top of a hill and the only angle he could get was with one wheel off the ground. He loaded the van, only to discover, that because the car has 4 wheel drive and some sort of differential drive, that when one wheel is in the air the others spin without power as it tries to correct for the one in the air. I think he made a lot of noise, trying to get it moving, and collected a crowd, so the neighbours all stood on the bumper of the van. Trying to get enough weight to get the last wheel to catch. It didn't work, but he made some friends. In the end he let the air out of the tyres until the last wheel touched enough to move, and drove slowly slowly to a gas station to put air back in the tyres. Then he drove to the new house, unloaded, and tried to come back home, unfortunately the new house is also on a hill, again once unloaded, weight change, one tyre off the ground. This time, no messing about, he let all the air out of the tyres, until all four were on the ground again, and slowly slowly to the petrol station again to put new air in the tyres again. I am sure the tyre profile lost at least a cm today, and they were new... but so it goes.
I came home, and the house is all ripped up, and nothing looks like it has really moved.. Harry came home an hour later, well after dark. So what do I do,, but ask what he did all day? Luckily I left out the rest of that sentence... (cause it looks like you did nothing but make a mess). He sat on the sofa and started, to tell my about his horrible day. Sometimes I am glad I only have to go to school.
I have to get up early and go to work, my hours are bought and paid for by someone else, about 135 days a year, Monday to Friday, and sometimes weekends. Meanwhile, Harry works a but less, but more intense, he will work for 10 days in a row no break, 10 hours a day, and then he has the rest of the month free, the other 21 days are his, he can sleep late, and enjoy the sun of the day. I envy that, somedays more than others.
Today was one of those days. I woke late, hurried to school, knowing I have a full 5 days ahead of me. With a big sigh I went, thinking of the nice day Harry would have. His day was not totally his own though, we are moving, his job today was to move one room, thats all one room, not a big deal we thought.
So he started the morning with me, made my coffee, walked me to the car carried my school bag, kissed me good-bye and then heeaded back to the house for a lazy breakfast. After breakfast he decided to walk the dog. The first thing the dog did, was jump in a pile of manure, and roll, A LOT. So Harry took the dog back to the house and bathed her in the tub, "with shampoo and everything so she will smell nice for her doctors appointment tomorow" he said. The dog protested. It took a long time, and the bathtub looks like a war took place in there.
Then he decided it was time to start moving. He drove the van, which is too big for Ximena streets, up to the house, it takes awhile but it goes. He parked it in front of the house, which is at the top of a hill and the only angle he could get was with one wheel off the ground. He loaded the van, only to discover, that because the car has 4 wheel drive and some sort of differential drive, that when one wheel is in the air the others spin without power as it tries to correct for the one in the air. I think he made a lot of noise, trying to get it moving, and collected a crowd, so the neighbours all stood on the bumper of the van. Trying to get enough weight to get the last wheel to catch. It didn't work, but he made some friends. In the end he let the air out of the tyres until the last wheel touched enough to move, and drove slowly slowly to a gas station to put air back in the tyres. Then he drove to the new house, unloaded, and tried to come back home, unfortunately the new house is also on a hill, again once unloaded, weight change, one tyre off the ground. This time, no messing about, he let all the air out of the tyres, until all four were on the ground again, and slowly slowly to the petrol station again to put new air in the tyres again. I am sure the tyre profile lost at least a cm today, and they were new... but so it goes.
I came home, and the house is all ripped up, and nothing looks like it has really moved.. Harry came home an hour later, well after dark. So what do I do,, but ask what he did all day? Luckily I left out the rest of that sentence... (cause it looks like you did nothing but make a mess). He sat on the sofa and started, to tell my about his horrible day. Sometimes I am glad I only have to go to school.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Harry is home and the dog doesn't care
I have been training the dog to ride in the car. Our car expereinces were very unpleasant, the dog hated it, she would lose control of all bodily functions and then vomit until she had no fluid left in her body. This was not what our dreams were when we got the dog. We imagined ourselves hopping in the van and all three driving to Morocco for the weekend... That won't happen if we can't take the dog around the block in the car, and that was also the reason for the previous note about washing the matress,, she had made it a very unplesant place to sleep.
So matress clean, and me with a little time on my hands, the car training started in ernst. First we just practiced getting in the car and sitting there unmoving, then engine on, then short drives in the village. That was all good, no problems. I thought perhaps her fear came from the fact that bad things usually happened when she went for a ride, to the shelter, to strangers house, all her rides are associated with big changes. I thought it would be nice then to have an association with something positive, like Harry coming home from Germany.
Harry said he would take the bus and I could pick him up in San Roque rather than driving all the way to Malaga. This was a stupid plan but thats another story. San Roque is not so far, about 30 minutes so I decided to take the dog her first BIG drive since training started. She was great, no loss of control, she even lay down and looked like she was sleeping for awhile. We had a couple of tense moments where she made some squeeking sounds that were more mouse like than dog like, but we sang them away. Someone told me singing to the dog will help her stay calm, sounds crazy, but the fear of a front seat full of vomit makes one do desperate things.
I thought this would be a nice drive for her, because we would see Harry and so the ride would be associated with something nice. She wags her tail and jumps and is over joyed everytime I come home from work, or in the mornings when we wake up, and so I thought she will also be overjoyed to see Harry too. So did Harry.
After waiting and waiting, Harry finally arrived, and he opened the car door, to see a dog that found him more of an annoyance than anything else. She did not jump, she did not wag her tail.. she just sat. Harry was so dissapointed. I was so suprised. Paula just wanted to go home.
So strange... dog psychology
So matress clean, and me with a little time on my hands, the car training started in ernst. First we just practiced getting in the car and sitting there unmoving, then engine on, then short drives in the village. That was all good, no problems. I thought perhaps her fear came from the fact that bad things usually happened when she went for a ride, to the shelter, to strangers house, all her rides are associated with big changes. I thought it would be nice then to have an association with something positive, like Harry coming home from Germany.
Harry said he would take the bus and I could pick him up in San Roque rather than driving all the way to Malaga. This was a stupid plan but thats another story. San Roque is not so far, about 30 minutes so I decided to take the dog her first BIG drive since training started. She was great, no loss of control, she even lay down and looked like she was sleeping for awhile. We had a couple of tense moments where she made some squeeking sounds that were more mouse like than dog like, but we sang them away. Someone told me singing to the dog will help her stay calm, sounds crazy, but the fear of a front seat full of vomit makes one do desperate things.
I thought this would be a nice drive for her, because we would see Harry and so the ride would be associated with something nice. She wags her tail and jumps and is over joyed everytime I come home from work, or in the mornings when we wake up, and so I thought she will also be overjoyed to see Harry too. So did Harry.
After waiting and waiting, Harry finally arrived, and he opened the car door, to see a dog that found him more of an annoyance than anything else. She did not jump, she did not wag her tail.. she just sat. Harry was so dissapointed. I was so suprised. Paula just wanted to go home.
So strange... dog psychology
Thursday, November 13, 2008
112 is not telephonica
Maybe some of you see the funny right away, but if you are like me you will have to read on. I am moving, so I need to have my phone transferred to the new house. I tried to call the phonr company, telephonica, to make arrangements. I know they have English service but the first number I dialed was not this, so I tried again. The second number was also not English,but through random number pushing I was able to get a person. That person told me to dail 1004. I tried this and also noticed this was blue speed dial number on the phone. The number was no good for me, all Spanish, so I hung up and noticed the RED speed dial number 112. Maybe this is English, out of dsparation, I tried it. I got "Hola spanish spanish spanish..." so I ask, "Hable Inglese?" "Yes, whats your problem?" Great, now I am getting somwhere.
My problem, I want to change my phone, from my old house to my new house
"and this is an emergency?" is the reply.... Thinking its a language issue.. I say..
"well no,, not an emergency but it would be nice if we could get it done this month"
Its funny now,, her response... She says "but it is not fire? ambulance? meidcal problem? police?"
Oh,,, I get it now,, I have called 911,,, I appologise profusely and try to get off the line as fast as possible.. the operator is laughing,, stupid foriegner... Oh well, so it goes.
My problem, I want to change my phone, from my old house to my new house
"and this is an emergency?" is the reply.... Thinking its a language issue.. I say..
"well no,, not an emergency but it would be nice if we could get it done this month"
Its funny now,, her response... She says "but it is not fire? ambulance? meidcal problem? police?"
Oh,,, I get it now,, I have called 911,,, I appologise profusely and try to get off the line as fast as possible.. the operator is laughing,, stupid foriegner... Oh well, so it goes.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Bad Dog
While I was in Paris, the dog was busy. She had to stay home, but not alone, I had a babysitter check on her 2-3 times a day, take her for walks, feed her, put her out in the yard in the day, take her in at night. This was apparently not enough attention. The dog protested. I won't recount the couple or regressive toilet issues she had: I understand she may have been feeling abandoned, and that leads to such things, but the simple destruction. That is hard to understand!
Let's see how much did the dog cost me in the last days:
1. Ripped KASHMIR shawl 70.oo
2. Green Chair upolstery 100.00
3. Babysitter 5x30.00 150.00
4. Feathersout of bed pillow 40.00
5. Hole in sheet and blanket 50.00
That's a grand total of 410 euros, a little more than 100 euros a day.
Here is the incidence report if you want further details.
I left my cashmir shawl folded on the bed upstairs, the dog is trained not to go upstairs, but she forgot this. She was up there, she ate a hole in the shawl, but being that it was folded, its like one of those paper snowflakes, you unfold it and there are many holes, she also decided to rip a big hole in the down pillow on the bed,, what a mess,, after 2 hours of cleaning there are still feathers flying everywhere, and before leaving the bed,, she chewed a hole though the blanket to the sheet.. at least she didn't hit the matress.
Downstairs, she worked on one of the chairs in the living room, she ripped a hole in the seat and pulled all the stuffing out, this is easier to clean up than feathers.
She and I had a chat about this, and we hope that it will never happen again. I promised never to leave her like that again, and in exchange she will try not to destroy the house. At least I think thats what her eyes said, when I pleaded with her while collecting chair stuffing, and using the ripped sheet to patch the pilow.
Let's see how much did the dog cost me in the last days:
1. Ripped KASHMIR shawl 70.oo
2. Green Chair upolstery 100.00
3. Babysitter 5x30.00 150.00
4. Feathersout of bed pillow 40.00
5. Hole in sheet and blanket 50.00
That's a grand total of 410 euros, a little more than 100 euros a day.
Here is the incidence report if you want further details.
I left my cashmir shawl folded on the bed upstairs, the dog is trained not to go upstairs, but she forgot this. She was up there, she ate a hole in the shawl, but being that it was folded, its like one of those paper snowflakes, you unfold it and there are many holes, she also decided to rip a big hole in the down pillow on the bed,, what a mess,, after 2 hours of cleaning there are still feathers flying everywhere, and before leaving the bed,, she chewed a hole though the blanket to the sheet.. at least she didn't hit the matress.
Downstairs, she worked on one of the chairs in the living room, she ripped a hole in the seat and pulled all the stuffing out, this is easier to clean up than feathers.
She and I had a chat about this, and we hope that it will never happen again. I promised never to leave her like that again, and in exchange she will try not to destroy the house. At least I think thats what her eyes said, when I pleaded with her while collecting chair stuffing, and using the ripped sheet to patch the pilow.
Mickey Mouse Conference
I am back from my best conference ever. I have no idea why it was the best, but it defintely was. My group was small only 9 participants, that was probably a lot of it. I threw my agenda out on the first day, and decided to just go with the flow. In the end I covered all of my agenda in any case, but in a natural way, as and when the issues came up in discussion. I think was so much better, especially for teachers,, reluctant learners at best. I know because I am one!
I do not know what gave me the confidence and serenty to do that. Maybe the week in the ashram to clear my head, or maybe I have just done enough of them now, that I feel normal about it, I don't know, but I really liked that feeling whatever it was.
As for Disneyland Paris, well Keith my former colleague from Hannover summed it up best,, he said, the hotel is fake, the lake is fake, the food is fake,, there is nothing in this place that is not artificial. AND its true, the hotel was surreal, Newport Bay,, made to look like a resort one would find in newport bay, USA. The food,, was all american, Planet Hollywood, McDonalds, weirdness, try being a vegetarian in that. I ate so much bread,, I lived on bread...
But on the plus side,,, and cousin John you will love this. I faced my fear. John and I were in line for more than 2 hours for Space Mountain (in Disney World- Miami) only to chicken out and run away, leaving my mom, and his sister to face the ride alone. The fear of getting lost in the crowds of touristers was less than whatever faced us at Space Mountain. But this time, almost 20 years later, I was roped in, by two other workshop leaders, with the promise of seeing the Mickey in the park, they dragged me in one evening,, only to shove me onto Space Mountain before I had time to think. AND WE WERE IN THE FIRST CAR... I didn't actually SEE the ride,, I had my eyes closed most of the time, with a few seconds of peeking here and there,, that was enough for me,, but I did it,, more than once. Of course with eyes closed, you don't actually know when you are going upsidedown, or how many times,, but I did, so thats got to count for something right?
I called upon my meditation lessons, from the previous week,, by the third go round,, I simply sat down, relaxed, closed my eyes and that was that... Roller coasters could be a good way to learn how to deal with stress,, perhaps I have hit on a new form of anger managment training...
In any case, I managed to convince the boys that there were OTHER worthwhile rides in the park, so I finally got to SEE some of the park, as we ran, literally, from ride to ride, we had only 3 hours until the park closed. I think, November is the best time to go really, that and late in the evening, we had virtually no ques, and probably rode more rides in those three hours than most children do on a full day in July. I missed the mouse man though, but it was not without incident.
Andy, not wanting to dissapoint me and break his promise of a picture with Mickey, asked the woman at security where in the park we could find Mickey. She told us, in all seriousness, that after the evening parade, Mickey always retires to cafe Mickey, where he chats with the patrons of his restaurant. I asked how long he stayed there, thinking that we might not get there straight away, and she replied, "Oh, usually until 11..." I said thanks, but we didn't get more than three steps away without all of us bursting into tears with laughter,, I couldn't believe Andy had asked where we could find Mickey for me an adult, and the reply in very serious tones, about Mickeys daily routine, and then our serious consideration of the issue.It seems Mickey at Disney is a serious issue. As serious as any issue can be where over 70% of the people there are wearing black ears or ballgowns. You can see just how serious we were...
I do not know what gave me the confidence and serenty to do that. Maybe the week in the ashram to clear my head, or maybe I have just done enough of them now, that I feel normal about it, I don't know, but I really liked that feeling whatever it was.
As for Disneyland Paris, well Keith my former colleague from Hannover summed it up best,, he said, the hotel is fake, the lake is fake, the food is fake,, there is nothing in this place that is not artificial. AND its true, the hotel was surreal, Newport Bay,, made to look like a resort one would find in newport bay, USA. The food,, was all american, Planet Hollywood, McDonalds, weirdness, try being a vegetarian in that. I ate so much bread,, I lived on bread...
But on the plus side,,, and cousin John you will love this. I faced my fear. John and I were in line for more than 2 hours for Space Mountain (in Disney World- Miami) only to chicken out and run away, leaving my mom, and his sister to face the ride alone. The fear of getting lost in the crowds of touristers was less than whatever faced us at Space Mountain. But this time, almost 20 years later, I was roped in, by two other workshop leaders, with the promise of seeing the Mickey in the park, they dragged me in one evening,, only to shove me onto Space Mountain before I had time to think. AND WE WERE IN THE FIRST CAR... I didn't actually SEE the ride,, I had my eyes closed most of the time, with a few seconds of peeking here and there,, that was enough for me,, but I did it,, more than once. Of course with eyes closed, you don't actually know when you are going upsidedown, or how many times,, but I did, so thats got to count for something right?
I called upon my meditation lessons, from the previous week,, by the third go round,, I simply sat down, relaxed, closed my eyes and that was that... Roller coasters could be a good way to learn how to deal with stress,, perhaps I have hit on a new form of anger managment training...
In any case, I managed to convince the boys that there were OTHER worthwhile rides in the park, so I finally got to SEE some of the park, as we ran, literally, from ride to ride, we had only 3 hours until the park closed. I think, November is the best time to go really, that and late in the evening, we had virtually no ques, and probably rode more rides in those three hours than most children do on a full day in July. I missed the mouse man though, but it was not without incident.
Andy, not wanting to dissapoint me and break his promise of a picture with Mickey, asked the woman at security where in the park we could find Mickey. She told us, in all seriousness, that after the evening parade, Mickey always retires to cafe Mickey, where he chats with the patrons of his restaurant. I asked how long he stayed there, thinking that we might not get there straight away, and she replied, "Oh, usually until 11..." I said thanks, but we didn't get more than three steps away without all of us bursting into tears with laughter,, I couldn't believe Andy had asked where we could find Mickey for me an adult, and the reply in very serious tones, about Mickeys daily routine, and then our serious consideration of the issue.It seems Mickey at Disney is a serious issue. As serious as any issue can be where over 70% of the people there are wearing black ears or ballgowns. You can see just how serious we were...
.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Om Week
I am back from Austria. Glad to be back but not at the same time. The weather was fantastic, and you can't ask for better scenery anywhere. But I didn't see much of either really. I went to study yoga. The first half of the week was a workshop on how to adapt yoga to your daily life, and the second half of the trip was for teachers, a workshop on how to teach yoga to pregnant women. Since most every female I know is pregnant, I thought this might be an interesting theme.It was, and it was also a fantastic place to be in the fall.
So what did we do? That is the question everyone wants to know. We go up every morning at 5, then we went to meditate for two hours. At 8 am was the asana class, thats the typical thing you think about when you think about yoga. At 10 am breakfast, purely vegetarian, non spicy, and organic. Then we had an hour of work around the center. Different jobs to help make the place run more smoothly. At we were free and I usually managed to convince my roommate Stephanie to come with me to the sauna or go for a hike in the mountains depending on how cold it was we chose one or the other. At 2 pm we had a theory lecture, at 4 a second asana class, at 6 supper, and 8 pm evening satsang, which is mediation and singing...
Anyone who has heard me sing knows what a horror this is, but I sing anyway. The first part of the week, we were only 10 people (11 including Sawimji) in the center, of the 11 only 3 of us knew the words to the songs,, the swami (monk) and the two other trained yoga teachers. The other two could sing,, thankfully so they carried the tune,, while I belted out my own version of every song and the rest of the crowd,, just tried to hang on. The singing freaked some out,, and they kept silence. I don't blame them I felt like that at first too, we sing in sanskrit so you often don't know what you are saying or why. It is also really hard to tell when one word ends and another begins, so you can't really read along and sing, you have to know the tune somehow. I just like the chance to sing as loud as I like as bad as I like and no one cares. So thats what I did.
Stephanie, bless her, doesn't sing any better than I do, but she is the adventurous type. She sang anyway, not knowing words, tunes or how to carry one. We were sharing a song book on evening, and there was Stephanie and I in the first row,, singing badly as loudly as we could.. We threw off the entire song, so swamiji tried to pull it back by singing louder,,, but that sounded even worse. The whole group was out of harmony,, totally not the purpose of singing the songs, and it cracked me up completely and you know what happens with laughter,, Steph was gone three seconds later. Know you have to understand,, this is like having a laughing fit in church,, you just don't and neither one of us could get it under control. Every time I thought I had it,, i would start to sing again, but of course that made Stephanie break out again and vise versa, we were as mature as 12 year olds. Trying to hold in the laughter, totally shaking with it, while trying to be inconspicuous in the front row.
It was nice to be able to laugh like a child again.
But saying that was the highlight of the trip is really understating ashram life. I love the routine of the ashram, I love the satva of the place. I wish more places were like that, and I guess the real challenge is just that, to make more places like that, or at least my own place. So far I haven't been so successful, thats why I keep going back to try to capture that tranquility for awhile until I am able to make it myself. someday someday.. the hope of the aspirant...
On the other hand this is what I found in the fireplace when I got home. That, and a cupboard full of food, a car full of petrol and a dog with a waggy tail, which are also pretty nice things too.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Little house of horrors
I need to share with you what I found when I came home from work today.
First, there was a trail of water from the back terrace to the bathroom. It is raining a little, maybe it rained a lot before in Jimena, so it must be the roof, again, dripping water in a way that probably a lot of the rich and famous pay money for and call a water feature in thier homes,, we get the joy for free every time it rains. But this time it was different.
I went to investigate the drip.
I went to investigate the drip.
I found Harry in the bathtub in his underwear standing on a matress. The matress from the car that the dog had vomitted on last week. He had decided to wash it, in the tub, by binding it up with two belts (so it would fit he said) and soaking it with the hose. He was now in his third rinse phase of the project and feeling like he had quite refined this, technique of jumping up and down on the matress, like he was pressing grapes, during the previous 3 hours of washing and rinsing.
He had however miscalculated two things. According to Harry, the matress is like a sponge, and when placed on end (this bit is important, it must be ON END for maximum performance), through capillary action the matress will absorb water to a point. The point at which gravity overpowers capillary action. Gravity is strong, therefore, when placed ON END, the matress should dry, mostly. For the past 2 hours we have been testing this new theory, because it is raining outside and will rain all weekend, and two the matress, when soaked with water is too heavy to lift out of the bathtub. This morning I was happy that we decided to move because as I took my shower the hot water ran out, as it tends to do and the shower curtain leaked about 50% of the water out as it tends to do, and the roof was leaking as it also tends to do and I thought great, soon no more water problems. But Harry and his daily projects will never leave me time to be complacient. Now I wish for the things I had this morning because I think tomorows shower will be a lot more difficult. The matress not being on end, being the most minor of the problems I see here.
So I decided to have a drink. This day called for something special. I know what your thinking... If only I had decided on something warm, a glass of red wine, and my evening would have turned round then and there. But I didn't I wanted German apple juice. I opened the fridge and discovered yet another reason to love our little house in Jimena.
Harry did however brighten my day. he fixed the remote fridge door and told me that the last mouse is gone.
The overwhelming smell of wet dog
This is not about what you think...
On Wednesday to Morocco with 60 14 year olds. Can you think of anything worse? If you think it was a vacation, you have clearly never been on a trip organized by a Moroccan, or with 60 teenagers.
Don't get me wrong, the kids were great, as we stood in the middle of a street, at the top of a BIG hill after walking (I know this because my cell phone counts the steps I take) 8000 steps, no one complained. It was 8 pm, the children had no eaten since 12, and there was a 2 hour time change, so belly time was actually 10 pm. They stood in the street and chatted with thier new Moroccan friends; they seemed not to notice teachers (or teacher instructions) or the fact that they had not eaten in 8 hours. Not a small feat for teenagers. Oh and did I mention is was raining?
We all piled into an orphanage for boys, and the only thing I could smell was wet dog, on an empty stomach. Over 80 children, ours and thiers, wet, hungry and tired, in standing room only. There seemed to be nothing organized, our kids looked at thier kids, they looked at us, wonderfully akward. Then one of our students offered to sing a song, then one of the orphan children sang, then a few people sang together, then we all taught each other songs. A cold wet room turned very warm very quickly.
The students were all taken home to Moroccan families, where they got to eat with thier hands, and see how thier new friends lived, some students didn't get to eat much because the families didn't have much to give, other families made only Spanish food to try to make the students feel at home. Every student came back with a different story, so did every teacher.
This is my story. The kids, despite being royal pains in the neck, staying up till 3 in the morning, making all the other hotel guests crazy, wanding off, talking when they should be listening etc etc etc.. They were still fantastic. They accepted everything and looked at everything with wonder. They started nervous and came home confident about simple things like trading money and haggling in the market and big things like talking to and making friends with people who look very different. There are a lot of adults that still havn't learned that. It's a trip we all should take.
On Wednesday to Morocco with 60 14 year olds. Can you think of anything worse? If you think it was a vacation, you have clearly never been on a trip organized by a Moroccan, or with 60 teenagers.
Don't get me wrong, the kids were great, as we stood in the middle of a street, at the top of a BIG hill after walking (I know this because my cell phone counts the steps I take) 8000 steps, no one complained. It was 8 pm, the children had no eaten since 12, and there was a 2 hour time change, so belly time was actually 10 pm. They stood in the street and chatted with thier new Moroccan friends; they seemed not to notice teachers (or teacher instructions) or the fact that they had not eaten in 8 hours. Not a small feat for teenagers. Oh and did I mention is was raining?
We all piled into an orphanage for boys, and the only thing I could smell was wet dog, on an empty stomach. Over 80 children, ours and thiers, wet, hungry and tired, in standing room only. There seemed to be nothing organized, our kids looked at thier kids, they looked at us, wonderfully akward. Then one of our students offered to sing a song, then one of the orphan children sang, then a few people sang together, then we all taught each other songs. A cold wet room turned very warm very quickly.
The students were all taken home to Moroccan families, where they got to eat with thier hands, and see how thier new friends lived, some students didn't get to eat much because the families didn't have much to give, other families made only Spanish food to try to make the students feel at home. Every student came back with a different story, so did every teacher.
This is my story. The kids, despite being royal pains in the neck, staying up till 3 in the morning, making all the other hotel guests crazy, wanding off, talking when they should be listening etc etc etc.. They were still fantastic. They accepted everything and looked at everything with wonder. They started nervous and came home confident about simple things like trading money and haggling in the market and big things like talking to and making friends with people who look very different. There are a lot of adults that still havn't learned that. It's a trip we all should take.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Paula the dog who wouldn't bark
Harry, who you all know or will get to know over the course of this blog, and I have been thinking about getting a dog for a long time. We didn't because living in Hannover, in a 5th floor apartment is just not a nice place for a dog. Too many stairs and not enough green space. One of the reasons we decided to move to Spain was to be able to live in a house with a dog perhaps as a practice for the eventuality of children. If we don't kill the dog, maybe then we will be able to handle babies.
Paula was brought from the killing station more than 2 years ago, as a puppy, someone took the time to buy her, have an electronic tag put in her ear and then dumped her when she was 6 months old, no more cute, but a gangly teenage dog. She spent the rest of her life in a cage with a dirt floor.
It is amazing to see her turn around, from this cowering tick ridden little thing, to a strong confident dog. I can not believe Harry and I are so proud of this little dog,, imagine how we will feel when our fist child graduates from school!
Once we settled in to Ximena, we set off to the animal shelter in La Linea to get ourselves a dog. The animal shelter is unbelievable. It is built for 150 dogs and holds well over 400. The founder, a Dutch man name Peter, funds the entire thing himself with a charity he also created in Holland. The state doesn't help him at all even though he saves the state thousands of dollars a year. La Linea has a state run animal shelter, which Peter calls the Killing Station, because every week the euthanize all of the animals that have been brought there and were not picked up after 7 days. Rather than let that happen, Peter and his volunteers run over there and grab all the animals and take them to their shelter across the road. Peter lives and breathes for the animals there, he is an amazing man to talk to, his passion runs so deep h has dedicated his entire life to these animals. The Spanish are not good pet owners, nor are the expatriates who come here with good intentions, buying dogs for their new lives in Spain and then realising they have to leave and are unable to take the pet with them. After summer vacation, Peter's place fills up with summer pets that are either not cute enough anymore, or inconvenient, or too expensive to ship. In the summer the place is filled with dogs that people do not want to take care of while they go on summer vacation with the family. Pets are disposable. It is sad, truly sad, Peter's place looks more like a concentration camp for animals than a shelter. He does the best he can, and no dog is turned away, the kennels are made with anything and everything he can find, broken palates, chicken wire, garbage lumber from all over. Most of the floors are dirt, and there is generally only one area of shelter in each kennel, so when it starts to rain, all of the animals run for their dry corner. When Harry and I visited it was hard to leave with only one dog, we wanted to take them all.
But we did leave with one. Paula, she picked Harry. We went into her kennel and she jumped up tail wagging, eyes huge and pawed his jeans with her dusty feet. She is a typical "Parkplatz hund", no fine genetic heritage. The place was full or amazing purebred dogs that must have been bought for hundreds of dollars, German Sheppards, Scottish Terriers, even a Dalmatian puppy. But Paula is like us, common. She didn't bark, didn't say a word, but her eyes implored us to get her out of this place. She is a generally shy and nervous dog and I think living in the kennel with 9 other dogs was too much for her, she is also covered in battle scars, bits of hair missing from her ears.
Paula was brought from the killing station more than 2 years ago, as a puppy, someone took the time to buy her, have an electronic tag put in her ear and then dumped her when she was 6 months old, no more cute, but a gangly teenage dog. She spent the rest of her life in a cage with a dirt floor.So we packed her off in our car, as quick as we could, but shes not a fan of cars, she vomited the entire drive home. Then she sat on the sofa for three days and would not get off, not to eat, not to play, not for anything. Clearly depressed and finding her new people friends a bit overwhelming. Being that she was unhappy we did the best we could to make her feel at home. Harry built her a dog house out of an old door we found in the backyard, she now has a pretty posh place of her own. She slowly came round, started to eat, started to get off the couch and explore the house. She was scared to enter any room of the house alone, and would only go if we took her. But now she moves around freely, and she is developing quite a strut. Initially when we dragged her outside she hid behind us, and ran away from everything with her tail between her legs. Now, a week later, she ambles through the neighbourhood, tail held high and she sometimes even barks. A confident, this is my place bark.
It is amazing to see her turn around, from this cowering tick ridden little thing, to a strong confident dog. I can not believe Harry and I are so proud of this little dog,, imagine how we will feel when our fist child graduates from school!
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