Hurtling through the countryside…

I’m on the big yellow train from Amsterdam back to Schiedam. It’s dark outside so I can’t see the farmland outside but it’s a great moment to write a post 😉

I’m still trying to work out this train thing. If everything goes properly, it actually takes me 8-12 minutes less time to go with the train than with Astrid but it does limit the amount of stuff I can take with me. Like for my banjo lesson tonight, I couldn’t bring my banjo and I couldn’t take my banjolele home. I was already managing my backpack and my lunch this morning.

Today I gave formal notice that I had left the city of Amsterdam. You are technically supposed to do it within 5 working days of your move but I look at as 5 working days from the day the last moving truck arrived. 😉 Feels a little strange – like I know that means Astrid will never be able to get a parking permit for the city again because they have since passed a law that anything older than 1998 is ineligible for a street permit.

As for the other side, well, Bex and GG have been working tirelessly to transform 4 trucks into something livable while I have been learning the commute patterns. We did spend Saturday evening sitting on our terrace, above the garden with lots of snacks and wine. So you know, apples and guacamole are quite a tasty combination together, in my opinion. Sabine joined us and a good time was had by all.

The next morning I got to practice my weird hospitality tendencies and we had breakfast outside. The weather made it impossible not to enjoy. In the afternoon, we drove nearly to the border to visit the farm of someone GG worked with 18 years ago. Not just for the enjoyment of the countryside but to meet Pickle and Olive. In six weeks or so, they will come home to us. Pickle is the runt of the litter and he has a really big voice for one so small. Olive is a little more reserved. Pickle and Olive 20 days old

Our new house feels good. GG says that I snore less! The dogs are welcome everywhere – Friday night we had dinner in one of the old windmills that surround the city. The owner told us that the boys were certainly welcome and definitely better behaved than many children 😉 They did settle down very nicely under the old table and waited patiently. Perhaps they were inspired by the surroundings! What does eating in a windmill look like?

 

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