Exploring, part 1

I am happy to report that we are now settled into our apartment. After looking at plenty of duds, we found a nice litte townhouse, 10 minutes walk from my office, a few blocks away from several grocery stores and other shops, and with a swimming pooll down the block where Milo can take lessons. It has plenty of closets, a shower with decent water pressure, and a full-sized fridge. And best of all, the landlord wanted someone to do a short-term lease, so we dont have to worry about losing our deposit once my contract is up. So all in all, we got pretty much everything we wanted.

We've already made two trips out to IKEA to stock up (although luckily the partment also came furnished, and had many of the household items we needed) which was probably the highlight of the week last night. What can I say, we are big Swedish meatball lovers in this family.

In our very rare spare time, we have been trying to get out a bit and see a litte of the country. We're starting close to home, then planning to take a few long weekends to go further afield. While the good news is that overall the weather in Ireland has been better than expected, the bad news is that on the days we do manage to make it out of the house, it always rains. Except this last weekend; it was beautiful - and then of course I forgot my camera. Oh well.

Here are some photos from our first excursion, to a 6th century monastic settlement called Glendalough. It's located in Wicklow National Park, an area of beatiful, heather-covered moors and stream-cut valleys. I got us deeply lost on the way there, but there is something oddly magical about Ireland - we always end up where we are supposed to be, having no idea on earth how we managed to get there. Jorge tested it one day and went out for a drive with the kids, deliberatly trying to get lost, and inevitably he ended up blocks away from the house.

If Jorge looks a little strange, it's beause he's trying to look at the camera while at the same time watch Milo out of the corner of his eye. But it's the best photo I've got.

If you look closely you can see Dean's two little teeth poking out!

A place to call home

So, we are back in the hotel. House-hunting is hard work here. Every morning I go through the listings, make a note of any suitable places, e-mail Jorge the numbers and addresses, and go off to work. When he gets time (that is, when the children allow him 10 minutes of peace, which is rare) he calls around and tries to make appointments for viewings. People only show apartments in the evenings, which I suppose works great for working professionals, but for parents of a baby and a preschooler with early bedtimes, it’s not ideal.

Most of the places we have seen so far have been very small. A room listed as a “double” generally means “we squeezed a double bed in there, and you will have just enough room to scoot around the edge of it and flop into bed”. We have seen “single” rooms which could have been Harry Potter’s room, i.e. The Cupboard under the Stairs. The two places we’ve seen that had a little more space were either run-down or in a neighborhood likely to get us mugged. Ah, and did I mention that the "refrigerator" in most of these places is in actuality a mini-bar?

Finally, we pushed up our budget a little, and looked at two places tonight. The first was a winner right away. It's very close to my office and in a neighborhood with lots of shops and restaurants. There's plenty of storage space and good-sized bedrooms. We told the owner we’d take it, and we could move in tomorrow. But he hemmed and hawed, and told us there were other people coming to see the apartment. Jorge was a little perplexed. “That’s fine, don’t turn them away, but we’ll take it. We can bring you cash tomorrow.” At first we wondered if he was looking for tenants perhaps a wee less…brown (and no funny accents) but gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe someone else called to book a viewing before us.

The next place we looked at was literally two blocks away, and also nice, but smaller, and all on one floor (we’d like a townhouse so we can sit in the living room and chat without keeping the kids awake). But I suppose beggars can’t be choosers anymore, so we also said we were interested.

So maybe some light at the end of the tunnel at last. Just five minutes ago, the owner of the townhouse called and said we are second on the list, so our second theory may have been correct after all. Tomorrow we go to see two more places, and may arrange a few more viewings after that. So we are very, very hopeful that by the weekend we will have a place to live, and can finally unpack our bags!

- Breaking newsflash - Just found out, we got the place we wanted. Cross your fingers that all goes well!

Coolest pet ever

I'm not big on pets - I like cats, and I understand why people own dogs (although I hate the creatures, myself), but I don't really get why people would own any other sort of pet. Birds shouldn't be in cages. Snakes and spiders are creepy. Rabbits never seem to stop being petrified of their owners. Fish don't do much, and small rodents are, well, kinda stupid.

But I am relenting on lizards. Lizards are cool. Especially if they live in your front yard and you don't have to find insects to feed them or anything.

Meet our new pet chameleon, Senor Camacho:

Jorge found this little guy in the road during one of his runs. Chameleons are incredibly slow walkers, and they disguise themselves to match the tarmac...you can guess what usually happens next. Jorge rescued Senor Camacho and brought him home to our house. He now lives in the tree in our front yard.

Milo's a big fan!

Godfrey is Back!

My housekeeper, Godfrey, has been out sick for two weeks. Fear not – my floors did not go unmopped, my bed unmade. Another housekeeper, who is waiting for a colleague to settle into his new home, filled in. But it just wasn’t the same.

Godfrey, who I think should be re-named Godsend, does a great job of keeping Jorge entertained during the day. One evening I came home to find out that the two of them had spent a good part of the day throwing peanuts into the air and seeing how many the could catch with their mouths. (Jorge won, by 8 peanuts).

So Godfrey started work again on Monday, and when I got home that day I could tell just how desperately boring it must be without Jorge around. Every surface in the house had been cleaned, and every little knick-knack neatly sorted. My pantry is organized by food type. Even my bobby pins were in a tidy little pile.

So today I asked him to cook, which, I think, is his favorite part of an otherwise tedious job. When I got home, I had a note that said “The Shepherd’s Pie is in the warmer, and the mangoes are in the fridge.” (Just take a moment to savor that…)


I know most of you have never had this experience, so let me just tell you, so there is no confusion: The only thing better than coming home to a spotless house, a set table, and a warm, delicious dinner, is having your good-looking spouse there, preferably handing you a fresh-squeezed margarita. Life just doesn’t get better. Unless there’s a cheese course involved somewhere as well.