Eva Bélen is here

There is a lot to say about this event... but for the moment,, lets just look at her. Shes pretty cute, but of course I am COMPLETELY BIASED.

Eva Bélen week ONE

Summer vacation

School has finally let out, and summer has started with visitors from Canada and Germany. So we decided to play tourist a bit. Here are the pics:

Spain and Morocco vacation

Portraits

I really really really wanted to get some professional photos taken, you know of this special time. Harry was also amicable to the idea until he found out how much it cost. The local photographer is fantastic, but definitely doesn't have village prices, so we decided to take some ourselves,, not so profi, but some are OK...

Our Jimena portrait session

Just pictures

There was a Riding Festival in Jimena

Caballero Feira

We visited Cadiz

Cadiz

then canos de Mecca

Canos de Mecca

and back at home,, the wildlife on the river is pretty cool

Campo Creatures

TRUST ME he said

Famous last words or?

Two weeks ago Harry and I went to Tarifa. The goal was wind surfing (his) sleeping in the sun (mine). We drove out with the Merc on Saturday morning, found a great spot to park, and spent the day watching others surf. The weather was too cold, in fact I think it even rained for awhile, something the dog can attest to far more than us, as she refused to get back in the bus, despite the rain, but rather sat under it, until the rain stopped. She doesn't like driving, or anything associated with driving. She is also not a big fan of water, so the whole beach thing was more of a nightmare for her than a holiday, but Harry and I had fun, trapped in a small space together is always nice.

In the evening we went for a "romantic dinner", we drove to a little restaurant further down on the beach and watched the sun set on the water as we ate. We drove back to our campsite and Harry had the idea, that if we back up to the side of the cliff we will be able to wake up with a sea view even better than we had at the restaurant. I was against the idea, driving backwards up hill to the edge of a cliff in the dark in a bus with limited peripheral vision. I saw so much potential for problem. He told me it was hormones, and note to all men reading this, never tell the woman you made pregnant that her reactions are due to hormones...

Trust me he said.

Then he proceeded full gas backwards, up the side of the small hill and over the side of the cliff. I actually felt the front wheels go off the ground first, surprising, but natural physics I suppose as the back wheels fell down the front ones came up. With two wheels off the ground and hanging in mid air, I said I told you so, one of my rare moments of full pregnancy charm I admit. I refused to get back in the bus dangling over the cliff and Harry tried to get us out of the mess. His response,,, umm well yeah, I guess we did drive a little too far backwards and he laughed. Fifteen minutes later as he realized his hormonal girlfriend wasn't kidding when she said she wasn't sleeping in the van, and that van wasn't going anywhere without a tow, and that no one in their right mind was going to tow us at midnight, and that no matter how much he jumped on the rear bumper to show me it was safe I still would no longer trust him, he stopped laughing, looked at me in despair and asked, "well what can I do then to make this OK"

Looking at him, and his desperation to make amends, I managed to pull myself together. We were in the middle of no where. I weighed up options of sleeping in the front seat to counter balance....

Then we decided to stack rocks under the tyres so at least it wouldn't rock so much and I would have the FEELING of security. Stacking job done, we went to bed exhausted and the entertainment for the hippie colony was over for the night.

Tarifa

The Big news

So I haven't written here in a long time. I haven't done much of anything PUBLICLY for a long time. It's because INTERNALLY I have been really busy.

Baby Pictures

Anyone who tells you pregnancy is a wonderful time of your life is an idiot. Or still pumped full of those delusional "happy hormones" that I have clearly yet to receive. Let me sum up the first trimester with one word. VOMIT. AND to point out that it is one evil trick on the part of mother nature that your sense of smell increases phenomenally just as you enter this phase. Enough said, trimester 2 is much better however I am not "glowing" (unless you count the sunburn of last week, I didn't know my skin is now hypersensitive to sunlight) as everyone says I should, my skin is worse than it ever was during puberty acne days, and my hair is not thick and lovely, in fact I have discovered GRAY. The walk up the hill from my car to the house, requires a resting station about half way up, luckily in front of a kiosk where I can purchase an ice cream if I time it well. As for weight, I don't want to discuss it, 16 weeks in, I have gained 8 kilos (the doctor initially predicted 12 overall, now hes shooting for 15 plus). I have come to the realization that the leech inside me is probably ruining my body for life. I have low blood pressure, which the doctor says is not wonderful, but much better than high blood pressure, but it causes me to have ringing in my ears and feel faint most of the time that I am standing, lying down all the time isn't an option because Im supposed to be working and carrying on as if everything is normal. How can anyone think the entire reorganization of your skeleton (30% less calcium), circulatory system (30% more blood) and internal organs (all now apparently located under and stuffed into my breasts) is normal?

Plus, I live in constant fear that I am doing something WRONG, to the leech. Clearly it can fend for itself, I experience this daily, and although the doctor says it is still too soon for me to feel the baby,, I tell you the fluttering and goings on in there is not gas, but the leech doing gymnastics. So far the sport cannon is great, passed every test with flying colours, what a relief, but I suspect this is only the beginning of a lifetime of worry about a little life that I might be helping to build at the moment but clearly have absolutely no control over and never will.In fact I suspect as far as control goes, the leech has all of it hands down, over both me and Harry. Another thing to accept. We are just around to help build and will probably get kicked in the stomach a lot of times in the process.

Never make a Gypsy mad

It started harmlessly enough. First my wondowbox plant went missing. Then the pot. We bought another plant, that went missing too. Then I found her, cleaning some sort of faeces from her son´s shoes onto my doorstep.

Everytime we walk by her, she lowers her voice and gives us the evil eye.

Now, although I haven´t seen her do it, I am sure the following series of events that have taken place at our old house are due to her.

The mail gets burned, the post man sets it in the small space between the door and the step, and its all burned, the door is a little singed too. A drowned frog was placed on the window sitting in water in a tuperwear box. A pile of toilet paper was thrown on the sill as well. A few dazs later the frog was dumped out on the sill, and the paper was buned...

I can not beleive we have mad such a ferocious enemy in such a short time. I am also really happy we moved and she hasn´t realised it yet.

Al Hambra

Harry has wanted to go to Al-Hambra for ages, but never managed to make it. Why? Becuase you have to book in advance, that goes against his spontaneous nature. We did manage though to get some tickets, in the usually over full castle and grounds and had even more luck because we had good weather. Cold but clear.

The original castle was built in the 11th century by Samuel Ha-Nagid, a Jewish grand vizier of one of Granadas sultans. It was turned into a fortress in the 13th century as the Moors took over, and the castle came into the possession of the Nasrid dynasty. After the Reconquista, when the Christians basically drove the arabs out, or tried in any case, the palace that the Nasrid emirs had built was restored and partially demolised to make way for a new palace for Carlos I, and the mosque was turned into a church. In the 18th century no one was interested in Al-Hambra and it was abandonded, left to go to ruin and only thieves and beggars lived in its grand walls and palace rooms.

When Napolean invaded, he used the palace for barracks and in the ensuing battles the palace was very nearly destroyed. In 1870, the government finaly re-discovered its worth and it was declared a national monument, and the authors of the romantic period all flocked there to live in it, despite its decrepid state. Can you imagine the sort of bohemean artist colony that must have wandered around there gathering wood to burn in monunetal fireplaces??? It was basically ignored by Franco,, and after he died, the Al-hambra was declared a world heritage site and rightly so.

Is there any other place that has such a checkered history?

Al Hambra

mpm=Malaga Picasso Museum

The next stop on the daily ausflug trail was Malaga. I was pleasantly surprised. What has been missing from my Spanish life was a good shopping experience, and there is one to be found in Malaga. I didn't have high hopes for this ugly city, but discovered that it is actually not so ugly. The inner city was renovated by Fernando and Isabella in the 15th century and it still stands much as it was. They had good taste! The shopping street is something to behold. I didn't buy anything. The men were patient however while I scoured the shoe stores looking either for a black back to match my back boots or brown boots to match my bag. They royal pair, Ferdinand and Isabella, not Harry and his dad, also started a big renovation of the cathedral of Malaga, however it ran short of cash, or in any case someone decided that they didn't want to invest any more in the completion of the church and from one day to the next it seemed, stopped. The cathedral looks strange because although the work stopped after 200 years (can you imagine 200 years on the same project)there are still lose bricks sitting around, parts of the original mosque (yes I said Mosque, Malaga like most of Andalusia spent a lot of time under Arabic rule) are still clearly visible and the second bell tower consists of a few incomplete pillars, yet no one has worked there since 1782.

The cathedral and the old town were not why we were there though, we went to see Malagas newest and most expensive tourist attraction, the Picasso Museum, of course there are Picasso museums all over the place but how many are in his home town? It was good, but Harry and his father were more impressed with the Max Ernst temporary exhibition also on display. German patriotism perhaps?

All that said, I didn't take any pictures, sorry mom, maybe I was looking for an excuse to go back.

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.

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.

Seville

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.

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.

What did I learn from yesterday:
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.

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.

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!

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.

The Terminator

I am a really lucky girl...

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.

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.

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.