As we approach the six-month anniversary of our leaving Luxembourg, it seems like a good time to reflect, once again, on what we've learned and how we can improve.
Many of the things I had read *before* we went to Luxembourg said that to help the kids transition back to the States, we needed to keep reminding them that we were Americans and not Europeans. Studies of kids whose parents move overseas for jobs (outside of the U.S. military) show that those who want the kids to do everything to "fit in" with the new culture produce kids that have trouble adjusting to the new culture, the U.S. culture if they move back to the U.S., and often an aversion to moving overseas as adults. This was especially true for children of missionaries.
One of my former boss's main criticism of how my husband and I had handled things was that we had created an "American island" for our girls, so of course, they could never be happy. When I look back at our year in Luxembourg, I don't see how we could have done anything else. The government schools in Luxembourg didn't want my children. Language schools in Luxembourg don't teach children (that's what the government schools were for). I didn't make enough money to send them to a private school. All that was left was our American island.
In the end, it turned out for the best. We didn't stay long in Luxembourg, and the transition back to the States was fairly easy. I'm not sure, in the long run, that the transition to Tennessee was that much worse than if we had moved here straight from Northern Virginia. The kids and I miss our friends and our church. There is a learning curve to being poor---no more eating out, no more big presents for birthdays and Christmas. But that would be true whether or not we had been to Luxembourg.
Darin and I had wanted to leave Northern Virginia for some time, but I don't think we would have ever done it if I hadn't been offered the "perfect" job in Luxembourg. Moving to Luxembourg got us out of our very comfortable life with our very comfortable salary in Northern Virginia. Darin and I had been longing for peace, quiet, and the ability to see the stars at night. Now we have all those things. We may have less spending money, but we have a great farm, wildlife and stars to watch, less stress, and that quiet we wanted.
What are we missing? Mostly health insurance. Would it be better to be in Luxembourg with their socialized medicine? No way. Even when we were in Luxembourg, we never understood the system enough to get dentist appointments, or check-ups, or things like mamograms, etc. I'm 42 years old, and I've never had a mamogram, and it's been close to three years since my last test for cervical cancer. The kids need dentist appointments, and braces. But could we get those things if we were in Luxembourg? It would probably have been possible, but we didn't have anyone to show us how.
What would be different in our lives if we had moved straight from the DC area to Tennessee? For one, I would never have learned any French. I really enjoyed that part of living abroad. But on the flip side, the kids learned some French and now refuse to ever speak it. There is a deeper hatred for all things French that is usual for an American, especially in my middle child. We have a deeper appreciation for America. We hear people talk about the problems here, like "lack of affordable health care" and immigration, and those problems seem so small compared to what they are facing in Europe. There is talk of how this country is so deeply divided, and how the gap is widening, but we still solve things peacefully, for the most part. This is not the case in Europe, especially in France. I suppose that maybe I wouldn't have a plate in my leg if we hadn't lived in Luxembourg, but I'm adjusting to that also.
My prayers now for my family are for an easing of the anger against Europe, for new friends in Tennessee, and a job for Darin that will give us health insurance. A year after we have insurance, I can get the plate out of my leg. Maybe by then I can convince the kids to speak French again, and we can live our lives with our wonderful appreciation for this country, and none of the negative side-effects from living in Luxembourg.
Here's to the next six months.
29 September, 2006
19 September, 2006
A Hearty Good Morning to Ye!
Yes, I know that time just be flyin' by, but it is again one of our family's favorite made-up holidays --- Talk Like a Pirate Day!
(If you've never celebrated the day before, I encourage ye to try it today. It's a wonderful way to make life a bit less stressful.)
The crew here in Tennessee has been under the weather, so the emailin' and bloggin' has been on the light side o' things, but I shall try to remedy that today.
Bon sang! Though me pirate talkin' skills are still sharp for English, I be havin' some trouble rememberin' how to talk like a French pirate. I may have to sneak downstairs this afternoon to watch me pirate movie in French to recall the old phrases. If you be wantin' to review your French pirate, please see last year's blog entry.
I wish ye all the best on this fair holiday. Godspeed to ye, and always a strong wind!
From Mad Matilda, and the rest o' Cap'n Pete's crew: Pegleg, Abby, and Jane.
(If you've never celebrated the day before, I encourage ye to try it today. It's a wonderful way to make life a bit less stressful.)
The crew here in Tennessee has been under the weather, so the emailin' and bloggin' has been on the light side o' things, but I shall try to remedy that today.
Bon sang! Though me pirate talkin' skills are still sharp for English, I be havin' some trouble rememberin' how to talk like a French pirate. I may have to sneak downstairs this afternoon to watch me pirate movie in French to recall the old phrases. If you be wantin' to review your French pirate, please see last year's blog entry.
I wish ye all the best on this fair holiday. Godspeed to ye, and always a strong wind!
From Mad Matilda, and the rest o' Cap'n Pete's crew: Pegleg, Abby, and Jane.
11 September, 2006
September's Beautiful Picture from the U.S.A.
21 August, 2006
August's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee

Our first day of school for the new school year. (Patchy is reading the dictionary.)
When the girls arrived in Luxembourg last year, they were 3-4 months behind in school. Not having all our books until October didn't help the matter, so the school year that should have started in September 2005 didn't start until December 2005. But the girls worked very hard all through the summer, and we were able to be back on schedule, starting our 2006-2007 school year today.
18 July, 2006
National Holidays and the World Cup
I forgot the French National Holiday last week, the one that's known in the States as Bastille Day. Last year the guys laughed at me when I wished them a happy Bastille Day. I took a leave day for my national holiday on July 4, and yet the French guys worked through theirs. I suppose part of it is that I have kids who expect a real holiday when it's time for a holiday. Not to mention that U.S. Independence Day on the Fourth of July is Darin's favorite holiday.
I had the Grand Duke's birthday marked on my calendar, so I was thinking about that as Darin and I talked about our plans for Independence Day this year. In Luxembourg, they have really nice fireworks, we were told, to celebrate the Grand Duke's birthday, which really isn't his birthday, so it's more like a national holiday for Luxembourg, on 26th of June. We didn't go see the big fireworks show last year. We said we'd try it "next year", but obviously, that didn't happen either. Our very first 4th of July living near DC (back in 1992), Darin and I went into town for the fireworks. We couldn't get into the concert, so we sat between the Capitol building and the Washington Monument. People had the concert playing on radios, so it was nice to hear the music and the show was nice. But after the kids came along, it was difficult to imagine finding a place for all of us downtown. My friend Mary Ellen said that if I really wanted to see the concert, then I should go to the dress rehearsal on the 3rd because it's a full dress rehearsal, just like the show, and the crowds are less, so it's easier to get in. But I never went. I was too tired from working that day, or the weather was too hot or too rainy, so I just kept saying, "I'll do it next year." But I never did.
This year in downtown Nashville, part of the free concert at Riverside Park was someone the kids really wanted to see -- Josh Turner. As Darin and I were talking about it, I felt like the idea that "we could do it next year" was right at the surface. I finally told Darin that we just couldn't do that this year or we might never go. And this year we would get to see Josh Turner. So we went.
As I reflect on our lives in Luxembourg, it often seems like a dream. There was a time in my life when I could understand French, and watch television in French or German, but that time has past. There was a time when I would walk past castles and cathedrals to get to work. Now it's gone, and it feels like such a distant memory. But at least I learned some lessons about taking chances and not putting things off.
At the time of my unfortunate demise in Luxembourg, the office was made up of 1 American (me), 2 Belgians, 2 French, and 2 Italians. If my boss was in town, then 3 French. I was thinking about the balance of power the week of the World Cup Finals. I'm sure it made for interesting office dynamics. And though at least one of the Italians tell us often that he is really only a part of the European Union, I think that changes when it's World Cup time. Maybe this will help the Italians feel better after they lost out on the papacy thing to Germany last year.
ttfn
I had the Grand Duke's birthday marked on my calendar, so I was thinking about that as Darin and I talked about our plans for Independence Day this year. In Luxembourg, they have really nice fireworks, we were told, to celebrate the Grand Duke's birthday, which really isn't his birthday, so it's more like a national holiday for Luxembourg, on 26th of June. We didn't go see the big fireworks show last year. We said we'd try it "next year", but obviously, that didn't happen either. Our very first 4th of July living near DC (back in 1992), Darin and I went into town for the fireworks. We couldn't get into the concert, so we sat between the Capitol building and the Washington Monument. People had the concert playing on radios, so it was nice to hear the music and the show was nice. But after the kids came along, it was difficult to imagine finding a place for all of us downtown. My friend Mary Ellen said that if I really wanted to see the concert, then I should go to the dress rehearsal on the 3rd because it's a full dress rehearsal, just like the show, and the crowds are less, so it's easier to get in. But I never went. I was too tired from working that day, or the weather was too hot or too rainy, so I just kept saying, "I'll do it next year." But I never did.
This year in downtown Nashville, part of the free concert at Riverside Park was someone the kids really wanted to see -- Josh Turner. As Darin and I were talking about it, I felt like the idea that "we could do it next year" was right at the surface. I finally told Darin that we just couldn't do that this year or we might never go. And this year we would get to see Josh Turner. So we went.
As I reflect on our lives in Luxembourg, it often seems like a dream. There was a time in my life when I could understand French, and watch television in French or German, but that time has past. There was a time when I would walk past castles and cathedrals to get to work. Now it's gone, and it feels like such a distant memory. But at least I learned some lessons about taking chances and not putting things off.
At the time of my unfortunate demise in Luxembourg, the office was made up of 1 American (me), 2 Belgians, 2 French, and 2 Italians. If my boss was in town, then 3 French. I was thinking about the balance of power the week of the World Cup Finals. I'm sure it made for interesting office dynamics. And though at least one of the Italians tell us often that he is really only a part of the European Union, I think that changes when it's World Cup time. Maybe this will help the Italians feel better after they lost out on the papacy thing to Germany last year.
ttfn
08 July, 2006
A Last Visit to the Orthepedist
I'm back from my parents' house and my doctor visit yesterday. It went just like I had hoped it would! My doctor said I don't need another visit or any more physical therapy. The x-rays looked great, she was impressed with my flexibility and strength, and she told me once again that the doctor in Luxembourg did a really good job on a really tough break.
She said that I should wear my ankle brace when walking on uneven ground (gravel or grass) for another 6 months, and no high heels for 6 months to a year (like that was ever an issue). And she suggested that I wear the ankle brace for the rest of my life if I'm doing something that could cause an ankle injury, like sports, rock climbing, etc. I suppose that also covers walking on ice, but I forgot to ask about that part. Hopefully that's not such a big issue in TN.
Hooray for walking!!!
She said that I should wear my ankle brace when walking on uneven ground (gravel or grass) for another 6 months, and no high heels for 6 months to a year (like that was ever an issue). And she suggested that I wear the ankle brace for the rest of my life if I'm doing something that could cause an ankle injury, like sports, rock climbing, etc. I suppose that also covers walking on ice, but I forgot to ask about that part. Hopefully that's not such a big issue in TN.
Hooray for walking!!!
05 July, 2006
29 June, 2006
14 June, 2006
Language Issues in Middle Tennessee
It was very common in Luxembourg to hear voice mail messages in more than one language. For example, if you made a mistake while making a telephone call, a voice would say in French that the number you tried to call hadn't been assigned, then the voice would say it again in German, and then again in English. Some recorded messages had Portuguese in the mix also.
Some places in the States give you a choice between English and Spanish, like at the ATM or the credit card machines at Wal-Mart. I really don't think much about that anymore because it always defaults to English.
But I ran across something different here. A couple of weeks ago, I called our phone company because I was having some trouble with my DSL box. A message plays in perfect English --- "Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available support person. Your call may be monitored for training and quality purposes." Then another message plays, recorded by a man with a much lower voice than the first man, and he says the **exact** same words, but with a Middle Tennessee accent. Most of the time when I have to call tech support, I'm not in the best of moods, but hearing them translate the opening message into both Yankee and Middle Tennessee always makes me smile.
I haven't been talking to strangers much lately, which is very unusual for me, and I think I finally figured it out---I don't know what language to use. I was at one time quite fluent in East Tennessee, and I think if I just slowed it down some, then it would be pretty close to what they speak in Middle Tennessee. But I'm a bit out of practice since I've been using mostly my Yankee accent at work and around Darin. (Though close friends know that my East Tennessee starts creeping back in when I get tired.)
So if I meet someone new and I'm with Darin, do I speak Yankee so he'll understand, or do I try to speak Tennessee so the stranger will understand me better? I just never know what to do.
When I switch between the two in a short space of time, I risk being made fun of by my husband. I feel like I need to pick a language and just stick with it.
The side effect of my indecision is that Darin has turned into the outgoing type of person lately. I suppose I had been enabling him to be shy all these years, and now that I've stopped talking, he has to talk. My mother loves to tell the story that when I was four and my brother was two, my parents were starting to worry about him because he didn't talk. Then my parents sent me to my grandparents, and my brother started talking in complete sentences immediately. He just couldn't get a word in edgewise before. I suppose I was doing the same thing to Darin. I did always think that Darin and my brother had a lot in common.
I s'pose this typin' is right good nuff for now. I'd best be gettin' on to bed.
Some places in the States give you a choice between English and Spanish, like at the ATM or the credit card machines at Wal-Mart. I really don't think much about that anymore because it always defaults to English.
But I ran across something different here. A couple of weeks ago, I called our phone company because I was having some trouble with my DSL box. A message plays in perfect English --- "Your call is very important to us. Please stay on the line for the next available support person. Your call may be monitored for training and quality purposes." Then another message plays, recorded by a man with a much lower voice than the first man, and he says the **exact** same words, but with a Middle Tennessee accent. Most of the time when I have to call tech support, I'm not in the best of moods, but hearing them translate the opening message into both Yankee and Middle Tennessee always makes me smile.
I haven't been talking to strangers much lately, which is very unusual for me, and I think I finally figured it out---I don't know what language to use. I was at one time quite fluent in East Tennessee, and I think if I just slowed it down some, then it would be pretty close to what they speak in Middle Tennessee. But I'm a bit out of practice since I've been using mostly my Yankee accent at work and around Darin. (Though close friends know that my East Tennessee starts creeping back in when I get tired.)
So if I meet someone new and I'm with Darin, do I speak Yankee so he'll understand, or do I try to speak Tennessee so the stranger will understand me better? I just never know what to do.
When I switch between the two in a short space of time, I risk being made fun of by my husband. I feel like I need to pick a language and just stick with it.
The side effect of my indecision is that Darin has turned into the outgoing type of person lately. I suppose I had been enabling him to be shy all these years, and now that I've stopped talking, he has to talk. My mother loves to tell the story that when I was four and my brother was two, my parents were starting to worry about him because he didn't talk. Then my parents sent me to my grandparents, and my brother started talking in complete sentences immediately. He just couldn't get a word in edgewise before. I suppose I was doing the same thing to Darin. I did always think that Darin and my brother had a lot in common.
I s'pose this typin' is right good nuff for now. I'd best be gettin' on to bed.
10 June, 2006
Things We Did Right, a.k.a., the Anglican Church
Right now I can't think of very many things we did right in our move to Luxembourg. I should have stayed in the States until the work permit was in hand. We should have gotten everything in writing from my boss, including more information on moving expenses and taxes, and maybe we should have even lived in Belgium so that the kids could go to public school or be homeschooled with less hassle. And it would have been nice to know then what I know now about moving companies.
But the one thing we did do correctly was hook up with the Anglican Church.
My first Sunday in Luxembourg was Palm Sunday. I went to another English-speaking church in town. There was a guest speaker because the pastor was gone, so maybe my first impression was the wrong impression, but they made a bad first impression on me.
I was 15 minutes early for the service. I came in and sat down. No one spoke to me. The service started, and we sang for 30 minutes straight, but only 3 songs. The songs were boring, both from a musical and a lyrical standpoint, and not at all related to Palm Sunday or Holy Week.
The speaker, at one point in his really long sermon, said that things now aren't like in Jesus' time. OK, hard to disagree with that. He said that now we're in the church age, so needs are met and miracles happen through the church. He asked us all to look around the room. He said that if we were in jail or in the hospital, these people we see would be the ones to help us out. For me, my first Sunday in a new country, not knowing anyone in the room, and no one even bothering to speak to me the entire service, it was a very depressing thought. As I was leaving the church, I was in tears, so it's no wonder that no one spoke to me on the way out. I was thankful that I knew the truth, that I didn't have to depend on those people, that I needed to depend only on God.
For Maundy Thursday services, I went to the Anglican church. A couple of ladies introduced themselves to me, and one lady brought me a hymnal. And then a few more people came, mostly for the choir, and they all came and welcomed me. I think everyone spoke to me, except the organist, who was playing. It turns out that choir practice is on Thursday nights, so the choir came to sing for the service, and then practice afterwards. There were 10 people in the choir (I guess some were out of town), and there were six of us in the congregation. And two priests, Chris and Joan, a married couple.
The service was nice. The hymns were unfamiliar to me, but that let me really focus on the words, and the words and the music were beautiful. Pastor Joan gave the sermon, talking about what it means to be a servant, and encouraging us to focus on the kind of attitude it took for Jesus to make it through on Friday---encouraging us to live like Jesus.
For communion, since we were "only a little more than the 13 at the Last Supper," Pastor Chris invited us all up to the front. So we stood around the table on the altar in a half-circle. It was nice. And then we went back to our seats, and the choir sang a special in Latin. I heard five parts, three from the ladies and two from the men, and only 10 people. It was beautiful, and I like the Latin.
After the service, Pastor Chris was asking everyone if they had eaten yet. There were four of us (out of eight) who were up for going out. He didn't ask the choir because they had started practicing.
It was nice evening. I had some pizza and some water. And the conversation was great. And they picked a restaurant in the Limpertsburg neighborhood so I would be close to my flat and wouldn't have to walk home in the dark.
I talked to Chris some also about my experiences of the previous Sunday, without going into details, mostly that I had a very bad first impression. I told him the pastor was gone. He said that I really should go back sometime so I could meet the pastor. But he thought I should come mostly to the Anglican church and sing in their choir.
After that, a family in the church invited me over for dinner, and then lent us dishes until our furniture arrived. Chris and Joan lent us some chairs, and when they came by to deliver them, Joan insisted on gathering up all our dirty clothes and washing them for us because the washing machine we ordered had been delayed. When a family in church went on holiday to England during the summer, they lent us their second car for two weeks, probably the best two weeks we spent in Luxembourg.
We tried that other church again, but I never felt comfortable there. We were the only Americans there, and when church was over, everyone broke into groups and started speaking their native language, and we were left out.
At the Anglican church, we were not the only Americans, but it really didn't matter where we were from. The British at the Anglican church honestly don't seem to notice that we're not British. I really felt like part of the family there.
Then we decided to leave and return to the States, and I broke my leg. Joan arranged for people to bring in food for Darin and the kids. She arranged for some men to help Darin load the shipping container. She and Chris had the kids over for dinner and then brought them by the hospital to visit me. Besides Joan, several other ladies from the church came by the hospital also, bringing small gifts like Sudoku puzzles and hand lotion.
One night I was lying in my hospital bed thinking about how much the hospital felt like prison, and it dawned on me---the guy at the other church had been right. When we were really in trouble, it was the people at the church that really came through for us. But not that church, it was the Anglican church!
Pastor Chris once spoke of being in a church service and singing a hymn about the majesty of God, and as the pipe organ went into the last verse, having a vision of God that was very powerful. Something very similar happened to me in a service at the Anglican church.
In October, there was a service for Joan to ordain her officially as the assistant chaplain for the Anglican church in Luxembourg. We went to the licensing ceremony on that Thursday night. It was a beautiful service, and they incorporated into the service and the vows the fact that Joan and Chris were already united in calling and in holy matrimony. I thought that part was really nice.
After the vows, there was a time of greeting, and Joan came around to everyone in the church and thanked them for coming. The hymn Joan had chosen for the greeting time was completely new to me, and really beautiful. The line that struck me the most, at the time, was "We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat and find You kneeling at our feet." After everything we had been through, it was just such a beautiful picture of Jesus, and I had this vision of Him there with us, and I felt completely overwhelmed. Then when Joan came by to shake my hand, and I thought of Joan gathering up our dirty clothes to take to her house, I realized that it was a beautiful picture of Joan also.
After the service, I read through the words again. They were even more beautiful than I had remembered.
If you do move to Luxembourg, I fully recommend being a part of the Anglican church in Luxembourg. It's the best decision you will make.
But the one thing we did do correctly was hook up with the Anglican Church.
My first Sunday in Luxembourg was Palm Sunday. I went to another English-speaking church in town. There was a guest speaker because the pastor was gone, so maybe my first impression was the wrong impression, but they made a bad first impression on me.
I was 15 minutes early for the service. I came in and sat down. No one spoke to me. The service started, and we sang for 30 minutes straight, but only 3 songs. The songs were boring, both from a musical and a lyrical standpoint, and not at all related to Palm Sunday or Holy Week.
The speaker, at one point in his really long sermon, said that things now aren't like in Jesus' time. OK, hard to disagree with that. He said that now we're in the church age, so needs are met and miracles happen through the church. He asked us all to look around the room. He said that if we were in jail or in the hospital, these people we see would be the ones to help us out. For me, my first Sunday in a new country, not knowing anyone in the room, and no one even bothering to speak to me the entire service, it was a very depressing thought. As I was leaving the church, I was in tears, so it's no wonder that no one spoke to me on the way out. I was thankful that I knew the truth, that I didn't have to depend on those people, that I needed to depend only on God.
For Maundy Thursday services, I went to the Anglican church. A couple of ladies introduced themselves to me, and one lady brought me a hymnal. And then a few more people came, mostly for the choir, and they all came and welcomed me. I think everyone spoke to me, except the organist, who was playing. It turns out that choir practice is on Thursday nights, so the choir came to sing for the service, and then practice afterwards. There were 10 people in the choir (I guess some were out of town), and there were six of us in the congregation. And two priests, Chris and Joan, a married couple.
The service was nice. The hymns were unfamiliar to me, but that let me really focus on the words, and the words and the music were beautiful. Pastor Joan gave the sermon, talking about what it means to be a servant, and encouraging us to focus on the kind of attitude it took for Jesus to make it through on Friday---encouraging us to live like Jesus.
For communion, since we were "only a little more than the 13 at the Last Supper," Pastor Chris invited us all up to the front. So we stood around the table on the altar in a half-circle. It was nice. And then we went back to our seats, and the choir sang a special in Latin. I heard five parts, three from the ladies and two from the men, and only 10 people. It was beautiful, and I like the Latin.
After the service, Pastor Chris was asking everyone if they had eaten yet. There were four of us (out of eight) who were up for going out. He didn't ask the choir because they had started practicing.
It was nice evening. I had some pizza and some water. And the conversation was great. And they picked a restaurant in the Limpertsburg neighborhood so I would be close to my flat and wouldn't have to walk home in the dark.
I talked to Chris some also about my experiences of the previous Sunday, without going into details, mostly that I had a very bad first impression. I told him the pastor was gone. He said that I really should go back sometime so I could meet the pastor. But he thought I should come mostly to the Anglican church and sing in their choir.
After that, a family in the church invited me over for dinner, and then lent us dishes until our furniture arrived. Chris and Joan lent us some chairs, and when they came by to deliver them, Joan insisted on gathering up all our dirty clothes and washing them for us because the washing machine we ordered had been delayed. When a family in church went on holiday to England during the summer, they lent us their second car for two weeks, probably the best two weeks we spent in Luxembourg.
We tried that other church again, but I never felt comfortable there. We were the only Americans there, and when church was over, everyone broke into groups and started speaking their native language, and we were left out.
At the Anglican church, we were not the only Americans, but it really didn't matter where we were from. The British at the Anglican church honestly don't seem to notice that we're not British. I really felt like part of the family there.
Then we decided to leave and return to the States, and I broke my leg. Joan arranged for people to bring in food for Darin and the kids. She arranged for some men to help Darin load the shipping container. She and Chris had the kids over for dinner and then brought them by the hospital to visit me. Besides Joan, several other ladies from the church came by the hospital also, bringing small gifts like Sudoku puzzles and hand lotion.
One night I was lying in my hospital bed thinking about how much the hospital felt like prison, and it dawned on me---the guy at the other church had been right. When we were really in trouble, it was the people at the church that really came through for us. But not that church, it was the Anglican church!
Pastor Chris once spoke of being in a church service and singing a hymn about the majesty of God, and as the pipe organ went into the last verse, having a vision of God that was very powerful. Something very similar happened to me in a service at the Anglican church.
In October, there was a service for Joan to ordain her officially as the assistant chaplain for the Anglican church in Luxembourg. We went to the licensing ceremony on that Thursday night. It was a beautiful service, and they incorporated into the service and the vows the fact that Joan and Chris were already united in calling and in holy matrimony. I thought that part was really nice.
After the vows, there was a time of greeting, and Joan came around to everyone in the church and thanked them for coming. The hymn Joan had chosen for the greeting time was completely new to me, and really beautiful. The line that struck me the most, at the time, was "We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat and find You kneeling at our feet." After everything we had been through, it was just such a beautiful picture of Jesus, and I had this vision of Him there with us, and I felt completely overwhelmed. Then when Joan came by to shake my hand, and I thought of Joan gathering up our dirty clothes to take to her house, I realized that it was a beautiful picture of Joan also.
After the service, I read through the words again. They were even more beautiful than I had remembered.
Great God, Your Love
by Brian Wren
Great God, Your love has called us here
As we, by love, for love were made.
Your living likeness still we bear,
Though marred, dishonoured, disobeyed.
We come, with all our heart and mind
Your call to hear, Your love to find.
Great God, in Christ, You call our name
And then receive us as Your own.
Not through some merit, right or claim
But by Your gracious love alone.
We strain to glimpse Your mercy seat
And find You kneeling at our feet.
Great God, in Christ, You set us free
Your life to live, Your joy to share.
Give us your Spirit's liberty
To turn from guilt and dull despair
And offer all that faith can do
While love is making all things new.
If you do move to Luxembourg, I fully recommend being a part of the Anglican church in Luxembourg. It's the best decision you will make.
29 May, 2006
May's Beautiful Picture from Tennessee
05 May, 2006
A very successful move from Europe!
After the nightmare that was our move to Luxembourg, the move back to the States was amazingly smooth. All the lessons we learned paid off for us this time. (See posts
A Moving Company for the Return Trip and Hiring a Moving Company.)
We hired Security Relocation (http://www.wemove4u.com/), and we had no problems and are very happy with the service we had from them all the way along.
They gave us an estimate that included just the services we wanted, without anything extra that would cost extra. They dropped off a container on a Friday, picked it up on the next Monday, and we were able to load it ourselves. This meant waving any damage insurance (though it was still insured if the entire container washed overboard, or something like that), but it was cheaper because a lot of our stuff hadn't been unpacked from the move to Luxembourg, so we didn't need "full service".
We were able to pay by credit card. They kept in contact with us all along the way, even when it was difficult to reach us during my hospital stay. We knew when the container had reached the States. We knew when it cleared customs. They were able to deliver it at the perfect time to move straight into our new house instead of into storage. The people were always nice, and I could always find someone to help me during business hours. They were great about answering both phone messages and email. I would recomend them completely to anyone needing to relocate internationally.
However, if you have to move inside the US, there is still no safer way that to U-Haul it yourself. If you think you can't pack the house yourself, then hire someone to help you pack, but be there to supervise. No one is going to care for your things like you do.
A Moving Company for the Return Trip and Hiring a Moving Company.)
We hired Security Relocation (http://www.wemove4u.com/), and we had no problems and are very happy with the service we had from them all the way along.
They gave us an estimate that included just the services we wanted, without anything extra that would cost extra. They dropped off a container on a Friday, picked it up on the next Monday, and we were able to load it ourselves. This meant waving any damage insurance (though it was still insured if the entire container washed overboard, or something like that), but it was cheaper because a lot of our stuff hadn't been unpacked from the move to Luxembourg, so we didn't need "full service".
We were able to pay by credit card. They kept in contact with us all along the way, even when it was difficult to reach us during my hospital stay. We knew when the container had reached the States. We knew when it cleared customs. They were able to deliver it at the perfect time to move straight into our new house instead of into storage. The people were always nice, and I could always find someone to help me during business hours. They were great about answering both phone messages and email. I would recomend them completely to anyone needing to relocate internationally.
However, if you have to move inside the US, there is still no safer way that to U-Haul it yourself. If you think you can't pack the house yourself, then hire someone to help you pack, but be there to supervise. No one is going to care for your things like you do.
30 April, 2006
15 April, 2006
Jeffersonian Wisdom
My dad found a quote from Thomas Jefferson in his history magazine:
"Traveling makes a man wiser, but less happy."
If it applies to traveling, it applies even more to trying move somewhere else.
And I didn't know that Thomas Jefferson had been to Luxembourg.
"Traveling makes a man wiser, but less happy."
If it applies to traveling, it applies even more to trying move somewhere else.
And I didn't know that Thomas Jefferson had been to Luxembourg.
04 April, 2006
Broken Legs and Long Flights
Darin and I had bought the airline tickets to get us back to the States before I broke my leg. The original plan was for me to take the kids to my parents, and for Darin to fly to his parents house, pick up our car from his brother, and join us in Tennessee.
After the accident, I was a bit worried about making the trip on our own, but it worked out fine. We requested wheelchair service for me, and now I'm so spoiled I may want to do this all the time! Airport personnel pushed me around in wheelchairs, put me on a special lifts to get me in the plane, and generally got us to the front of any line, including customs in Charlotte. They were also very careful to be sure the kids were always with me -- it was nice to have an extra set of eyes to keep everyone together.
I wonder how bad you have to feel to get wheelchair service. Hmmmm . . .
After the accident, I was a bit worried about making the trip on our own, but it worked out fine. We requested wheelchair service for me, and now I'm so spoiled I may want to do this all the time! Airport personnel pushed me around in wheelchairs, put me on a special lifts to get me in the plane, and generally got us to the front of any line, including customs in Charlotte. They were also very careful to be sure the kids were always with me -- it was nice to have an extra set of eyes to keep everyone together.
I wonder how bad you have to feel to get wheelchair service. Hmmmm . . .
29 March, 2006
March's Beautiful Picture of Luxembourg
28 March, 2006
A Holiday!!!
Since the doctor said I couldn't work, we decided to take a vacation. We hadn't been anywhere outside of Luxembourg except to the Ikea in Metz, France. So we did a typically American thing -- lots of driving. We rented a car and went to nine countries in six days.
My notes are below:
22 March 2006
Darin and I woke up about 8:00 this morning, a little bit later than usual for the both of us. There had been a dusting of snow overnight. Getting out of town and going south seems like a good idea.
Darin had wanted to leave by 9:00, but I knew that couldn't be done. I had to send some emails and some files to the office, finishing about 9:45. Darin worked on getting the car packed.
We didn't leave until 10:30, and we had to stop at the bank for some money. We got out on the autobahn (A3) and were at the French border when Darin remembered that we didn't have the camera. We turned around. We left Kehlen for the second time at noon, with 7.5 hours of driving ahead of us for the day. Darin was not happy. It was 3 degrees Celcius when we left at noon.
We drove south to France, and in Nancy got on the toll roads and started making even better time. (Toll roads from Nancy to Nimes cost us 42.80 euro today.)
We ate lunch at a covered picnic table at a rest area off the toll road. It was raining. I stayed in the car. I had gone to the restroom, and it zapped all my energy.
We arrived at Nimes at 20:30 and found the Ibis hotel easily. They gave us the last two rooms on the first floor closest to the parking lot. There were still four steps that I had to get up, and I was so tired.
We ate supper in our room. The girls slept in the room across the hall.
Darin asked the front desk for some ice, and they gave him some from the bar. It made a world of difference. My foot was so swollen after going to the doctor on Tuesday, and it hadn't recovered. I kept it elevated in the car, sitting in the back seat with it between Darin and Rachel in the front seat. With just an hour with the ice, I could see the difference in the swelling.
23 March 2006
After a late night, we decided to sleep in a bit. We ate breakfast in the room, and we left about 10:15 for Spain.
I hadn't taken any photos yesterday, so I started taking pictures out the car window. It has changed from winter to spring in just 1 day. The trees are blooming, and there are flowers everywhere. We're all wearing t-shirts and shorts today.
We took the toll road toward Spain. We ate lunch at a rest area near Rivesaltes, France, close to a castle/fort. While Darin went to explore, I took the long journey to the toilets, only to find they were all stand-up toilets. Darin got back in time to help me while the girls went exploring. We ate a picnic lunch at one of the tables. Darin meant to take a picture of me being out of the car, but he missed his chance.
We crossed the border into Spain about 13:30, and we got off the toll road at the second exit, before 14:00. We drove to Roses, and then to Cadaque, through a national park of some kind with lots of winding roads. Cadaque was right on the Mediterranean, and we drove around some, but we made Darin go back. We took some pictures at the top of the mountain down towards Roses and Port Selva. By the time we arrived in Port Selva, N and I were not feeling well. We took another winding road up to St. Pere Rodes -- we were there from 16:00 to 17:50. Darin and the girls explored the monestary. I sat in the car and watched boats come into the bay at Port Selva. It was a bad pasttime for someone who had to go to the bathroom like I did.
Next we drove up the coast, still on very winding roads, and found the last (open) gas station in Spain and paid only 0.977 euro/liter, full service.
We ate supper in Perpignan, France, at a Chinese restaurant, from about 19:45 to 21:00. We got back to the hotel at 22:45. I asked for a little bit of ice, and he still have me a lot. Darin put some out in the car (with the cheese), so I had some of the night and even more for the car in the morning (after we ate the cheese).
24 March 2006
Darin and I woke up at 7:30. We left at 9:55 from the parking lot. We ate chips and cheese for breakfast in the car. We headed east toward Italy, starting out again on the toll road.
There were cherry orchards in bloom along the south coast of France.
We arrived in Monaco about noon. I think we drove on every road in the country.
We arrived in Italy about 13:45. (I took a picture of the border crossing, but no one was there.) We stopped at McD's for plain hamburgers and chicken nuggets and finished the cheese (eating again in the car, this time in the McD's parking lot). We drove up the Via Aurelia to San Remo, and then I couldn't tke the slowness, bumps, & bad drivers, so I asked Darin to go back to the A10 toll road. The toll road was filled with viaducts and tunnels for a nice smooth ride for N and me.
We got to the hotel about 16:30. They gave us 2 rooms for the price of one since a mistake was made and they thought we had only 2 kids instead of 3. We worked it out and got me settled. On my way in, I slipped and almost put my foot down. I managed to catch myself, but I tensed every muscle in my leg and it hurt. But now, after some ice, it looks and feels good.
Darin and the kids went to the beach for wading by 17:30. I laid on the bed with ice on my foot. They all came back by 18:25 -- soaking wet, partly from the rain but mostly from the sea. They washed up and we went to supper at the hotel. Dinner was from 19:30 to 21:30, four courses, the fanciest meal the kids have ever had. I took pictures.
After supper, Darin helped me take a shower in the girls' room because they had easier access to the shower, but I was tired and I felt like I was falling all the time. Maybe partly because of the earlier sliding. I need to remember to take showers earlier in the day.
25 March 2006
Breakfast was included with the room, so we went down to a very nice breakfast about 8:30 this morning. Then D and the kids went to the beach again. This time they wore their swimsuits. Darin said that everyone else out on the beach was wearing their winter coats. They came back about 10:00, and we left the hotel about 11:00.
We got back on the toll road and headed toward Milano. There was a 4 km traffic jam at a work zone at one of the tunnels. Other than that, we made pretty good time -- until we got to Milano and the end of the toll road. We paid our toll, but we couldn't find what we needed on the signs. We ended up driving through Milan. The signs all through Italy were not good, so it was difficult all the way through the town. We were there from 13:30 to 14:15, but finally found our way to the toll road to Switzerland. I realized at the border that one of the problems was that I was looking for signs to Lugano, Switzerland. But all the signs said "Chiasso" instead, and that wasn't on my map.
In Switzerland, they give you a sticker for your windowshield that covers all the tolls for the day, so we had to stop at the border and pay the toll lady.
Switzerland had some amazing tunnels, but also had some winding spots. We stopped at one of the parking areas, and the girls got out and played in the snow. It was so cool that earlier in the same day they had been in their swimsuits in the Mediterranean.
We crossed into Leichtenstein about 17:00, and Austria about 17:30. The Austrian border crossing was the only the second border we had to cross, to get back into the European Union. The police man told the girls to put their seat belts on correctly because they were all wearing their shoulder straps under their arms.
We found the Ibis hotel in Bregenz without much trouble, and we ordered in pizza/calzones to eat in the room. The girls and and I are watching the Ice Stating 2006 world championships in one room. Darin is watching news in the girls' room. The hotel gave us two rooms at the end of one hall, with the girls at the very end, and both keys opened both rooms, which Darin loves. Darin would always confiscate the girls' room key before bed so he could go in their room in the morning to wake them up.
26 March 2006
We checked out about 10:45. We crossed over to Germany about 11:00. We took route 12 to Isny, and the snow on the ground was making it foggy.
We stopped for lunch in Fussen, from what we thought was 12:30 to 14:00, but it turned out that it was really 13:30 to 15:00. (At first we thought we'd gone into a new time zone, which didn't seem right to me. We realized back in Luxembourg that it had switched to Daylight Savings time (or summer time) in Europe early Sunday morning. We get to do this all again when we get to the States.) Darin picked the place -- the Brauhaus, and the food was excellent.
We went to Hohenschawngau and Neuschawnstein, but the ticket offices were closed for the inside tours. I suggested that they could take the horse carriages up the mountain, but Darin was grumpy that it was so touristy. I had warned him that it was touristy there, and it's not **that** bad (not like Gatlinburg). But Darin was grumpy. He was just trying to ruin my favorite castle.
We spent the night at an Ibis hotel in Augsburg, west of Munich.
27 March 2006
Darin woke up at 6:00 (our time, we didn't change our watches), took a shower, and woke the girls up afterwards. He and the girls went out to the car at the parking garage at 8:30 while I waited in the lobby. Darin didn't come to get me until 9:15. Because of the one-way streets, Darin couldn't figure out how to get from the parking garage back to the hotel. Finally, they stopped at another Ibis hotel and asked directions.
Darin got up to 187 kph on the autobahn outside of Stuttgart. I didn't get a picture of that, but got one at a slightly lower speed.
We ate lunch at McD's at noon in Neustadt. I told Darin he would have to order, and he started to order, and then the manager came over, and he and Darin had a nice conversation.
After lunch I had us take a short-cut over to (Karlsruhe), and we drove through Frankenstein, Germany, which was neat.
We made the Lux border at 15:30, and back to Kehlen at 16:15.
My notes are below:
22 March 2006
Darin and I woke up about 8:00 this morning, a little bit later than usual for the both of us. There had been a dusting of snow overnight. Getting out of town and going south seems like a good idea.
Darin had wanted to leave by 9:00, but I knew that couldn't be done. I had to send some emails and some files to the office, finishing about 9:45. Darin worked on getting the car packed.
We didn't leave until 10:30, and we had to stop at the bank for some money. We got out on the autobahn (A3) and were at the French border when Darin remembered that we didn't have the camera. We turned around. We left Kehlen for the second time at noon, with 7.5 hours of driving ahead of us for the day. Darin was not happy. It was 3 degrees Celcius when we left at noon.
We drove south to France, and in Nancy got on the toll roads and started making even better time. (Toll roads from Nancy to Nimes cost us 42.80 euro today.)
We ate lunch at a covered picnic table at a rest area off the toll road. It was raining. I stayed in the car. I had gone to the restroom, and it zapped all my energy.
We arrived at Nimes at 20:30 and found the Ibis hotel easily. They gave us the last two rooms on the first floor closest to the parking lot. There were still four steps that I had to get up, and I was so tired.
We ate supper in our room. The girls slept in the room across the hall.
Darin asked the front desk for some ice, and they gave him some from the bar. It made a world of difference. My foot was so swollen after going to the doctor on Tuesday, and it hadn't recovered. I kept it elevated in the car, sitting in the back seat with it between Darin and Rachel in the front seat. With just an hour with the ice, I could see the difference in the swelling.
23 March 2006
After a late night, we decided to sleep in a bit. We ate breakfast in the room, and we left about 10:15 for Spain.
I hadn't taken any photos yesterday, so I started taking pictures out the car window. It has changed from winter to spring in just 1 day. The trees are blooming, and there are flowers everywhere. We're all wearing t-shirts and shorts today.
We took the toll road toward Spain. We ate lunch at a rest area near Rivesaltes, France, close to a castle/fort. While Darin went to explore, I took the long journey to the toilets, only to find they were all stand-up toilets. Darin got back in time to help me while the girls went exploring. We ate a picnic lunch at one of the tables. Darin meant to take a picture of me being out of the car, but he missed his chance.
We crossed the border into Spain about 13:30, and we got off the toll road at the second exit, before 14:00. We drove to Roses, and then to Cadaque, through a national park of some kind with lots of winding roads. Cadaque was right on the Mediterranean, and we drove around some, but we made Darin go back. We took some pictures at the top of the mountain down towards Roses and Port Selva. By the time we arrived in Port Selva, N and I were not feeling well. We took another winding road up to St. Pere Rodes -- we were there from 16:00 to 17:50. Darin and the girls explored the monestary. I sat in the car and watched boats come into the bay at Port Selva. It was a bad pasttime for someone who had to go to the bathroom like I did.
Next we drove up the coast, still on very winding roads, and found the last (open) gas station in Spain and paid only 0.977 euro/liter, full service.
We ate supper in Perpignan, France, at a Chinese restaurant, from about 19:45 to 21:00. We got back to the hotel at 22:45. I asked for a little bit of ice, and he still have me a lot. Darin put some out in the car (with the cheese), so I had some of the night and even more for the car in the morning (after we ate the cheese).
24 March 2006
Darin and I woke up at 7:30. We left at 9:55 from the parking lot. We ate chips and cheese for breakfast in the car. We headed east toward Italy, starting out again on the toll road.
There were cherry orchards in bloom along the south coast of France.
We arrived in Monaco about noon. I think we drove on every road in the country.
We arrived in Italy about 13:45. (I took a picture of the border crossing, but no one was there.) We stopped at McD's for plain hamburgers and chicken nuggets and finished the cheese (eating again in the car, this time in the McD's parking lot). We drove up the Via Aurelia to San Remo, and then I couldn't tke the slowness, bumps, & bad drivers, so I asked Darin to go back to the A10 toll road. The toll road was filled with viaducts and tunnels for a nice smooth ride for N and me.
We got to the hotel about 16:30. They gave us 2 rooms for the price of one since a mistake was made and they thought we had only 2 kids instead of 3. We worked it out and got me settled. On my way in, I slipped and almost put my foot down. I managed to catch myself, but I tensed every muscle in my leg and it hurt. But now, after some ice, it looks and feels good.
Darin and the kids went to the beach for wading by 17:30. I laid on the bed with ice on my foot. They all came back by 18:25 -- soaking wet, partly from the rain but mostly from the sea. They washed up and we went to supper at the hotel. Dinner was from 19:30 to 21:30, four courses, the fanciest meal the kids have ever had. I took pictures.
After supper, Darin helped me take a shower in the girls' room because they had easier access to the shower, but I was tired and I felt like I was falling all the time. Maybe partly because of the earlier sliding. I need to remember to take showers earlier in the day.
25 March 2006
Breakfast was included with the room, so we went down to a very nice breakfast about 8:30 this morning. Then D and the kids went to the beach again. This time they wore their swimsuits. Darin said that everyone else out on the beach was wearing their winter coats. They came back about 10:00, and we left the hotel about 11:00.
We got back on the toll road and headed toward Milano. There was a 4 km traffic jam at a work zone at one of the tunnels. Other than that, we made pretty good time -- until we got to Milano and the end of the toll road. We paid our toll, but we couldn't find what we needed on the signs. We ended up driving through Milan. The signs all through Italy were not good, so it was difficult all the way through the town. We were there from 13:30 to 14:15, but finally found our way to the toll road to Switzerland. I realized at the border that one of the problems was that I was looking for signs to Lugano, Switzerland. But all the signs said "Chiasso" instead, and that wasn't on my map.
In Switzerland, they give you a sticker for your windowshield that covers all the tolls for the day, so we had to stop at the border and pay the toll lady.
Switzerland had some amazing tunnels, but also had some winding spots. We stopped at one of the parking areas, and the girls got out and played in the snow. It was so cool that earlier in the same day they had been in their swimsuits in the Mediterranean.
We crossed into Leichtenstein about 17:00, and Austria about 17:30. The Austrian border crossing was the only the second border we had to cross, to get back into the European Union. The police man told the girls to put their seat belts on correctly because they were all wearing their shoulder straps under their arms.
We found the Ibis hotel in Bregenz without much trouble, and we ordered in pizza/calzones to eat in the room. The girls and and I are watching the Ice Stating 2006 world championships in one room. Darin is watching news in the girls' room. The hotel gave us two rooms at the end of one hall, with the girls at the very end, and both keys opened both rooms, which Darin loves. Darin would always confiscate the girls' room key before bed so he could go in their room in the morning to wake them up.
26 March 2006
We checked out about 10:45. We crossed over to Germany about 11:00. We took route 12 to Isny, and the snow on the ground was making it foggy.
We stopped for lunch in Fussen, from what we thought was 12:30 to 14:00, but it turned out that it was really 13:30 to 15:00. (At first we thought we'd gone into a new time zone, which didn't seem right to me. We realized back in Luxembourg that it had switched to Daylight Savings time (or summer time) in Europe early Sunday morning. We get to do this all again when we get to the States.) Darin picked the place -- the Brauhaus, and the food was excellent.
We went to Hohenschawngau and Neuschawnstein, but the ticket offices were closed for the inside tours. I suggested that they could take the horse carriages up the mountain, but Darin was grumpy that it was so touristy. I had warned him that it was touristy there, and it's not **that** bad (not like Gatlinburg). But Darin was grumpy. He was just trying to ruin my favorite castle.
We spent the night at an Ibis hotel in Augsburg, west of Munich.
27 March 2006
Darin woke up at 6:00 (our time, we didn't change our watches), took a shower, and woke the girls up afterwards. He and the girls went out to the car at the parking garage at 8:30 while I waited in the lobby. Darin didn't come to get me until 9:15. Because of the one-way streets, Darin couldn't figure out how to get from the parking garage back to the hotel. Finally, they stopped at another Ibis hotel and asked directions.
Darin got up to 187 kph on the autobahn outside of Stuttgart. I didn't get a picture of that, but got one at a slightly lower speed.
We ate lunch at McD's at noon in Neustadt. I told Darin he would have to order, and he started to order, and then the manager came over, and he and Darin had a nice conversation.
After lunch I had us take a short-cut over to (Karlsruhe), and we drove through Frankenstein, Germany, which was neat.
We made the Lux border at 15:30, and back to Kehlen at 16:15.
14 March, 2006
A Last Exciting Adventure
We've had a very exciting month, and I haven't had the chances to blog that I would have liked. I broke both bones in my leg just above the ankle and had surgery to fix it that afternoon (13 screws, 1 plate, 3 incisions, and 24 stitches), and spent a week in the hospital. It will be 4 months before I can walk without crutches, but at least I don't have a cast and I can take showers.
On Monday, 6 March, I left for work at 9:05 to catch the 9:10 bus, late, as usual, for a Monday morning, and especially after I've given my resignation and I just don't care anymore.
I had almost gotten stuck in the office on the Friday before. The snow was falling so heavily then that the roads were completely impassable for a time, but I found a bus to get me home. So I started out Monday very carefully on icy roads.
But careful doesn't really help someone who is as graceful as I can be, and I fell on the ice, just on the far side of the street from our house. I knew the second it happened it was broken -- I heard it crack. I was lying on the road with my knees pointing to the sky, and my right foot lying at an impossible angle. I was thinking about how to crawl back across the street safely, when I thought that maybe I should try first to flag down a car, if for no other reason than to protect me as I crawled back across the road. The first car I saw stopped when I waved. It turned out the driver was the British man who lives down the street, the one who works at Eurostat and has three daughters. He called for an ambulance, went up to the house to get Darin, arranged for his wife to look in on the kids for later, and translated for me the people who came along to help in various ways.
Darin brought some blankets from the house to keep me warm, and I suppose it helped, but I was still lying on a sheet of ice on the street. No one wanted to move me at all in case something else was wrong. I really thought that my bum was fine, and I could have rolled over enough to have some the blankets on my backside instead of just piled on the top. My leg really hurt, and it hurt even more when I shivered.
There was a man from the commune who brought me some kind of space-age metallic blanket, and he was calling to check on the various ambulances that were or weren't coming. He was also trying to make sure that no one ran over me with their cars. Someone called a local doctor, and he came out to check on me. He kept checking my pulse and asking "doctor" questions about previous injuries and allergies. I am allergic to codeine in its various forms, which is a pain-killer, so it's important to share that information when you are lying there in pain. Fortunately for me, the French words for "allergy" and "codeine" are the same as in English. He also kept telling me to stay calm. I would have been calmer if I'd been warmer and on pain medication.
Because of all the snow and ice, there had been a lot of accidents and falls that morning. The ambulance from Mamer couldn't come, and they had to send one from Steinfort instead. The ambulance didn't come until about 10:10 or so, with me finally in the ambulance by 10:28. They first put my leg and foot in this balloon-thing and blew it up to keep it still. Then the guys acted like they were going to pick me up by my legs to put me on the stretcher, and I started to panic. But they got out the back-board, so that part was OK. They took the Autobahn most of the way to the hospital, but every bump hurt.
They took me straight to radiology, and I got to bump some people from the line since I was in the most pain. It was here that I finally was able to take off my coat and ask for some blankets. The technician tried to get me to put my coat back on, but then noticed how cold and wet it was. That's what happens when you're lying on the ice for more than an hour. They also took x-rays of my chest in preparation for surgery.
I was out of radiology and back to admitting by 11:30, and I kept asking for my husband (in English, German, and French) and pain medication, but no one would help me. It was a terrible feeling. No one wanted to speak English with me, and I couldn't think straight enough to try to understand anyone else's German or French. I really wanted Darin. They kept mentioning surgery, and I was afraid that Darin wasn't getting the word. At 12:30 they started the IV so I could finally get some pain relief. At 13:30 I finally saw a doctor, and I explained to him that I needed to talk to my husband. He mentioned that to a nurse, and she told him (in French) that I had already spoken to my husband on the telephone. But I hadn't. I told the doctor that my husband wasn't at home, he was somewhere in the hospital and no one would find him for me. When he told this to the nurse, she looked a bit panicked. At least someone eventually told Darin something. I didn't get to see him during the ambulance ride, and hardly at all at the hospital. I really wish they had let us be together more. I was so stressed and in so much pain, and I really needed someone to talk to who could understand me.
By 14:00, the pain meds had kicked in fully, and they started taking me to pre-op. The doctors seemed all very nice, so I was fairly calm, except that I was still worried that they weren't telling Darin anything.
I woke up about 18:30 in the post-op ward. I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there. I was looking for Darin, and I somehow had it in my head that I couldn't find Darin because they wouldn't tell him where I was. People around me were talking, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying. I remember thinking that something was wrong with my hearing. I eventually remembered that I was in Luxembourg and that I had fallen and needed surgery. And that I was right about Darin -- he wouldn't be there. I started crying and then throwing up. They gave me some medicine and I went back to sleep.
About 19:00 I was awake again, and some nurses came to take me to my room. The nurse said that when my husband realized he couldn't see me, he went home, but he had called already and he would call me again. That made me feel better somewhat, even though I still missed him. I was upset that Darin had spent the whole day in the hospital for nothing, when I knew he'd be worried about all the packing we still had to do back at the house. I knew that the kids would feel better if Darin was at home, too.
I had a terrible night that night, and a bad day on Tuesday, and another bad night on Tuesday night. I was throwing up all the time, mostly just dry heaves because I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. I was so thirsty, and my hands had swollen.
Tuesday evening I got a new roommate who was really loud and annoying, but she was gone most of the day on Wednesday to have her surgery, so that helped me to feel better and get some rest also.
On Wednesday I asked to be taken off one of the pain medications. I tried not to push the button so much during the night on Tuesday night, and I woke up feeling slightly less nauseated. By lunch I was feeling better, and lunch was good: roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sandwich bread. So I made myself a roast beef sandwich. It reminded me of my Grandpa.
The physical therapist came by for the first time on Wednesday. She showed me some exercises to do, and we practiced for a little bit on my new crutches. I still had the IV in my arm and drainage tubes coming out of my leg, so it was very difficult for me to walk anywhere without help.
My pastor, Joan, came by to visit Wednesday, and she bought me a card for the phone. I could get incoming calls, but I couldn't call out without the card. She put 20 euros on the card, but I didn't use it all, so we got some back and paid her back. She also went to the gift shop and bought me a brush, some lip stuff, hand lotion, a National Geographic, and a Ladies' Home Journal.
Also on Wednesday, Darin took a break from packing to come visit. He hitched a ride with the British lady down the street and then later rode the bus back to Kehlen. It was really nice to see him.
Since now I have a phone, I called my office and left my number, and my boss called me this evening to ask if I could send a file to him. I told him that was impossible. The whole conversation was so funny. I was regretting that I had called the office after all. My boss had called the house on Tuesday looking for me. Darin told him I was in the hospital because of surgery, but Darin wouldn't give him my number then. It turned out that Darin had the right idea.
Wednesday afternoon the doctor decided that since I was eating and drinking now, they could take me off the IV. The doctor also had the nurses rebandage my leg and pull out the tubes. My leg was in a "splint" that was essentially just half a cast on the underside of my shin and the bottom of my foot, and then wrapped up in gauze and ace bandages. I kept telling people that the splint was too tight and it was hurting my little toe, a casualty of my broken foot from 16 years ago. They would ask me if I felt pin-pricks or ants crawling. I know they were asking about a lack of circulation, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the splint was crushing my little toes. I kept asking if we couldn't do something to not squish my toes. They kept telling me it wasn't too tight. I don't think it was a language problem as much as it was that they thought they knew more than I did about my own pain. I couldn't convince them that the toe was a previous condition. I suppose it would have been easier if they had spoken better English, or if I could have explained everything in French. So they took off the splint, rebandaged everything and put the splint back on, only without the drainage tubes. My little toe was very sad.
On Thursday, the physical therapist came about 8:00, and she had me walk down to the sunroom, and my nurses brought me breakfast there. It was a nice change. They I walked back and went to bed. It was really hard work.
When the doctor came, he told them to rebandage my leg again without the splint. I was so happy, for the sake of my little toe. They put lovely white support hose on both legs.
Lunch was stuffed chicken and rice, really good, with really good soup. We usually get something really nice for desert also, and Thursday it was something made from strawberries. Breakfast was usually a hard German-type roll with packs of butter, jam, and sometimes Philly cream cheese, and fruit and yogurt. Supper was usually some kind of cold salad, like tuna or salmon with vegetables, good soup, and fruit for desert. Generally speaking, the hospital food was much better than any hospital food I'd ever had in the States.
Liz from church called and then came by in the afternoon. She said she is addicted to Suduko puzzles, and I should like them since math people like logic puzzles. She brought probably twenty of them, clipped from the newspaper. Some of them weren't clipped out yet, so I was able to read some news from England on the back of the "puzzle page."
Then Marco called from the office, and he asked if there was anything from the office that I needed. I told him it would help if he could bring me my CDs I had left in my desk because then we could get them packed in the container. So he and Gabriella came by this evening, and not only did he bring my CDs, he had bought me a small CD player for me to use in the hospital, and 3 cans of Coke Light. Gabriella bought me a big yellow flower in a cute little pot. While they were there, someone came with a big bouquet of pink rose buds and pink lilies. I took the card, and Gabriella asked who sent them. I told her that she had because the card said they were from the "team", but obviously sent by my boss. They were really pretty. I love pink lilies and roses.
That evening Joan and Chris, our pastors, had the kids over for dinner and to meet their dog (who likes to eat girls, they were told), and then Joan brought the girls to the hospital for a visit. It was really nice to see all the girls. I taught them my exercises so that they could help me, and we talked about how the packing was going. I gave them most of my CDs to take home so they would be packed in the container.
Thursday night felt very lonely.
The nice night nurse, the one who speaks English was me, wasn't around on Thursday night and Friday night, and when I complained about pain, I didn't get the usual shot in the bum for pain, but only the fizzy tablets in water.
My parents had been calling me every night at about 18:00, and on Friday, Darin's parents called me, too, so that was cool. Daddy said that my friend Kathy had been trying to get in touch with me. He called her "your Kathy" because he had temporarily forgotten her married name. I didn't need a last name -- I knew who he meant when he said "your Kathy." I was glad he told me about it, and I was glad that Kathy was thinking about me, but it made me sad that I couldn't call her. I really wanted to talk to her.
Saturday they wanted me to get out of bed for breakfast, but I wouldn't get up. So for lunch, they set the tray on the table for both me and my roommate, forcing us both to get out of bed. The nurses were complaining that we were being lazy. My roommate finally spoke to me some. She had said earlier that she didn't know English, but her English was fine. (Lunch was a salmon pastry thing that was very good.) At supper, they did the same thing, making us eat at the table. (Supper was cold tomatoes and cheese.) We decided to show them that we could move if we wanted, and the two of us took a walk down to the sun room, rested, and then came back.
Then this one nurse I didn't like, partly because she didn't even try to speak anything except Luxembourgish, and partly because she wouldn't stop talking, decided I needed my bandages changed. I told her that the doctor said they were fine, but she insisted. The bandage changing was fine, but she almost killed me trying to get the white support hose back on. I had told my roommate at supper about my earlier accident, and how much the splint had hurt my little toe, and how I couldn't seem to explain to the nurses that they needed to be careful of both my little toe and my ankle. So my roommate explained it to this nurse in Luxembourgish, and she still managed to bang up both sides of my ankle and almost tear off my little toe.
Then my roommate wanted to watch "Deutschland Superstar", Germany's version of "American Idol", and she said if I didn't mind, we could watch it together (we had separate TVs, but I hadn't ever gotten mine to work). It was down to the final three contestants, so the singing was pretty good. The first guy, Mike, started out singing "Mandy", not my favorite song, but it reminds me of that Ray Stevens song. The girl sang something I can't remember, and sang it like she was nervous. The next guy, Tobias, sang "Are we having fun yet?", and did a good job. Then Mike sang "Against All Odds", a song that always makes me cry. Then Jessica sang Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love", another song that makes me cry, except that Jessica sounded bad at the end. Then Tobias sang a sad song about how his girl will always be there with him even though she's gone. When they went to commercial, I rang for the nurse to get my pain pill for the night, thinking the show was almost over. After the break, they all got to sing a dedication song. Mike sang to Jessica "She's so Beautiful to Me" and had Jessica crying, and then I was crying. Then Jessica sang a song for her sister, a song I didn't know, and it was in German, but she sang it really well, and the words were so beautiful, and I was thinking about Kathy, and then I was really crying, with tears running down my face and neck. Right when the song ended the nurse comes in, and I ask for my pain pill, and she's worried because I'm crying. I'm explaining that it was a really beautiful song on the TV, and my roommate is trying to explain it to her also, but she's still worried about the both of us. It was pretty funny, except that we couldn't stop crying.
So when the show was over, I'm still thinking about Kathy, and feeling sorry for myself. But then I decide that thinking about Kathy should make me happy because there are so many good memories, so I start thinking about happy things (like that "insane, but preppie" email). Many of my happy memories involve all my friends at Census, so I fell asleep that night thinking about Kathy, Joe, Amy, Suzanne, and Lynn, and I feel asleep laughing.
In the morning, I had this dream that Darin and I, Kathy and her husband Dave, and Joe, were in Kathy and Dave's RV on our way to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I was still on crutches. And Joe's wife didn't want to come with us. Joe suggested we stop at a Walmart on the way to buy souvenirs. I stayed in the RV. Joe came back from shopping and showed me this really ugly, wild Hawaiian shirt, and said, "I bought this for Steve, but now I'm not so sure. Is this too gay, or should I buy him a dress instead?" I woke up then, laughing. It was my best night so far. I slept straight from 23:30 to 5:50. (By the way, the dream won't make any sense to Joe either, I'm sure. I have no idea who Steve is, or what the dream means, but it did cheer me up.)
Sunday morning my roommate started throwing up and had a really bad day. Wendy from church came by, but my roommate had lots of loud visitors, sometimes as many as 8 in our really small room (with no curtains to pull either, so to keep some modesty, I have to stay under the covers even though it's hot in the room).
But my little toe is feeling a lot better. And I'm really thankful for my friends, even if I'm too far away from home for them to come visit.
Monday morning I proved to the physical therapist that I could be released by walking up and back down a flight of stairs. It was really tiring. My doctor said I'm making good progress, and he released me. Fortunately, there were no stairs at our house in Luxembourg, and now that I'm at Mom and Dad's, I can just crawl up the stairs. Luxembourg does not seem to be very handicapped and wheelchair friendly, compared to the US. I think that I'll find a way to avoid stairs for the most part.
Kathy called me at the hospital on the afternoon I was released. It was so good to hear her voice. If she only knew how much I've been thinking about her. I wonder if she knows how much I appreciate her? I really appreciated the regular phone calls from my parents also. It really gave me something to look forward to every day.
So I celebrated my 52nd Monday in Luxembourg by coming home from the hospital.
My doctor says I can't work for six weeks, and he was totally OK with our going back to the States. So just about the time we forced my boss to agree to our schedule for a final day, I didn't go back to work anyway.
ttfn
On Monday, 6 March, I left for work at 9:05 to catch the 9:10 bus, late, as usual, for a Monday morning, and especially after I've given my resignation and I just don't care anymore.
I had almost gotten stuck in the office on the Friday before. The snow was falling so heavily then that the roads were completely impassable for a time, but I found a bus to get me home. So I started out Monday very carefully on icy roads.
But careful doesn't really help someone who is as graceful as I can be, and I fell on the ice, just on the far side of the street from our house. I knew the second it happened it was broken -- I heard it crack. I was lying on the road with my knees pointing to the sky, and my right foot lying at an impossible angle. I was thinking about how to crawl back across the street safely, when I thought that maybe I should try first to flag down a car, if for no other reason than to protect me as I crawled back across the road. The first car I saw stopped when I waved. It turned out the driver was the British man who lives down the street, the one who works at Eurostat and has three daughters. He called for an ambulance, went up to the house to get Darin, arranged for his wife to look in on the kids for later, and translated for me the people who came along to help in various ways.
Darin brought some blankets from the house to keep me warm, and I suppose it helped, but I was still lying on a sheet of ice on the street. No one wanted to move me at all in case something else was wrong. I really thought that my bum was fine, and I could have rolled over enough to have some the blankets on my backside instead of just piled on the top. My leg really hurt, and it hurt even more when I shivered.
There was a man from the commune who brought me some kind of space-age metallic blanket, and he was calling to check on the various ambulances that were or weren't coming. He was also trying to make sure that no one ran over me with their cars. Someone called a local doctor, and he came out to check on me. He kept checking my pulse and asking "doctor" questions about previous injuries and allergies. I am allergic to codeine in its various forms, which is a pain-killer, so it's important to share that information when you are lying there in pain. Fortunately for me, the French words for "allergy" and "codeine" are the same as in English. He also kept telling me to stay calm. I would have been calmer if I'd been warmer and on pain medication.
Because of all the snow and ice, there had been a lot of accidents and falls that morning. The ambulance from Mamer couldn't come, and they had to send one from Steinfort instead. The ambulance didn't come until about 10:10 or so, with me finally in the ambulance by 10:28. They first put my leg and foot in this balloon-thing and blew it up to keep it still. Then the guys acted like they were going to pick me up by my legs to put me on the stretcher, and I started to panic. But they got out the back-board, so that part was OK. They took the Autobahn most of the way to the hospital, but every bump hurt.
They took me straight to radiology, and I got to bump some people from the line since I was in the most pain. It was here that I finally was able to take off my coat and ask for some blankets. The technician tried to get me to put my coat back on, but then noticed how cold and wet it was. That's what happens when you're lying on the ice for more than an hour. They also took x-rays of my chest in preparation for surgery.
I was out of radiology and back to admitting by 11:30, and I kept asking for my husband (in English, German, and French) and pain medication, but no one would help me. It was a terrible feeling. No one wanted to speak English with me, and I couldn't think straight enough to try to understand anyone else's German or French. I really wanted Darin. They kept mentioning surgery, and I was afraid that Darin wasn't getting the word. At 12:30 they started the IV so I could finally get some pain relief. At 13:30 I finally saw a doctor, and I explained to him that I needed to talk to my husband. He mentioned that to a nurse, and she told him (in French) that I had already spoken to my husband on the telephone. But I hadn't. I told the doctor that my husband wasn't at home, he was somewhere in the hospital and no one would find him for me. When he told this to the nurse, she looked a bit panicked. At least someone eventually told Darin something. I didn't get to see him during the ambulance ride, and hardly at all at the hospital. I really wish they had let us be together more. I was so stressed and in so much pain, and I really needed someone to talk to who could understand me.
By 14:00, the pain meds had kicked in fully, and they started taking me to pre-op. The doctors seemed all very nice, so I was fairly calm, except that I was still worried that they weren't telling Darin anything.
I woke up about 18:30 in the post-op ward. I couldn't remember where I was or why I was there. I was looking for Darin, and I somehow had it in my head that I couldn't find Darin because they wouldn't tell him where I was. People around me were talking, but I couldn't understand anything they were saying. I remember thinking that something was wrong with my hearing. I eventually remembered that I was in Luxembourg and that I had fallen and needed surgery. And that I was right about Darin -- he wouldn't be there. I started crying and then throwing up. They gave me some medicine and I went back to sleep.
About 19:00 I was awake again, and some nurses came to take me to my room. The nurse said that when my husband realized he couldn't see me, he went home, but he had called already and he would call me again. That made me feel better somewhat, even though I still missed him. I was upset that Darin had spent the whole day in the hospital for nothing, when I knew he'd be worried about all the packing we still had to do back at the house. I knew that the kids would feel better if Darin was at home, too.
I had a terrible night that night, and a bad day on Tuesday, and another bad night on Tuesday night. I was throwing up all the time, mostly just dry heaves because I hadn't eaten or had anything to drink. I was so thirsty, and my hands had swollen.
Tuesday evening I got a new roommate who was really loud and annoying, but she was gone most of the day on Wednesday to have her surgery, so that helped me to feel better and get some rest also.
On Wednesday I asked to be taken off one of the pain medications. I tried not to push the button so much during the night on Tuesday night, and I woke up feeling slightly less nauseated. By lunch I was feeling better, and lunch was good: roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, and sandwich bread. So I made myself a roast beef sandwich. It reminded me of my Grandpa.
The physical therapist came by for the first time on Wednesday. She showed me some exercises to do, and we practiced for a little bit on my new crutches. I still had the IV in my arm and drainage tubes coming out of my leg, so it was very difficult for me to walk anywhere without help.
My pastor, Joan, came by to visit Wednesday, and she bought me a card for the phone. I could get incoming calls, but I couldn't call out without the card. She put 20 euros on the card, but I didn't use it all, so we got some back and paid her back. She also went to the gift shop and bought me a brush, some lip stuff, hand lotion, a National Geographic, and a Ladies' Home Journal.
Also on Wednesday, Darin took a break from packing to come visit. He hitched a ride with the British lady down the street and then later rode the bus back to Kehlen. It was really nice to see him.
Since now I have a phone, I called my office and left my number, and my boss called me this evening to ask if I could send a file to him. I told him that was impossible. The whole conversation was so funny. I was regretting that I had called the office after all. My boss had called the house on Tuesday looking for me. Darin told him I was in the hospital because of surgery, but Darin wouldn't give him my number then. It turned out that Darin had the right idea.
Wednesday afternoon the doctor decided that since I was eating and drinking now, they could take me off the IV. The doctor also had the nurses rebandage my leg and pull out the tubes. My leg was in a "splint" that was essentially just half a cast on the underside of my shin and the bottom of my foot, and then wrapped up in gauze and ace bandages. I kept telling people that the splint was too tight and it was hurting my little toe, a casualty of my broken foot from 16 years ago. They would ask me if I felt pin-pricks or ants crawling. I know they were asking about a lack of circulation, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the splint was crushing my little toes. I kept asking if we couldn't do something to not squish my toes. They kept telling me it wasn't too tight. I don't think it was a language problem as much as it was that they thought they knew more than I did about my own pain. I couldn't convince them that the toe was a previous condition. I suppose it would have been easier if they had spoken better English, or if I could have explained everything in French. So they took off the splint, rebandaged everything and put the splint back on, only without the drainage tubes. My little toe was very sad.
On Thursday, the physical therapist came about 8:00, and she had me walk down to the sunroom, and my nurses brought me breakfast there. It was a nice change. They I walked back and went to bed. It was really hard work.
When the doctor came, he told them to rebandage my leg again without the splint. I was so happy, for the sake of my little toe. They put lovely white support hose on both legs.
Lunch was stuffed chicken and rice, really good, with really good soup. We usually get something really nice for desert also, and Thursday it was something made from strawberries. Breakfast was usually a hard German-type roll with packs of butter, jam, and sometimes Philly cream cheese, and fruit and yogurt. Supper was usually some kind of cold salad, like tuna or salmon with vegetables, good soup, and fruit for desert. Generally speaking, the hospital food was much better than any hospital food I'd ever had in the States.
Liz from church called and then came by in the afternoon. She said she is addicted to Suduko puzzles, and I should like them since math people like logic puzzles. She brought probably twenty of them, clipped from the newspaper. Some of them weren't clipped out yet, so I was able to read some news from England on the back of the "puzzle page."
Then Marco called from the office, and he asked if there was anything from the office that I needed. I told him it would help if he could bring me my CDs I had left in my desk because then we could get them packed in the container. So he and Gabriella came by this evening, and not only did he bring my CDs, he had bought me a small CD player for me to use in the hospital, and 3 cans of Coke Light. Gabriella bought me a big yellow flower in a cute little pot. While they were there, someone came with a big bouquet of pink rose buds and pink lilies. I took the card, and Gabriella asked who sent them. I told her that she had because the card said they were from the "team", but obviously sent by my boss. They were really pretty. I love pink lilies and roses.
That evening Joan and Chris, our pastors, had the kids over for dinner and to meet their dog (who likes to eat girls, they were told), and then Joan brought the girls to the hospital for a visit. It was really nice to see all the girls. I taught them my exercises so that they could help me, and we talked about how the packing was going. I gave them most of my CDs to take home so they would be packed in the container.
Thursday night felt very lonely.
The nice night nurse, the one who speaks English was me, wasn't around on Thursday night and Friday night, and when I complained about pain, I didn't get the usual shot in the bum for pain, but only the fizzy tablets in water.
My parents had been calling me every night at about 18:00, and on Friday, Darin's parents called me, too, so that was cool. Daddy said that my friend Kathy had been trying to get in touch with me. He called her "your Kathy" because he had temporarily forgotten her married name. I didn't need a last name -- I knew who he meant when he said "your Kathy." I was glad he told me about it, and I was glad that Kathy was thinking about me, but it made me sad that I couldn't call her. I really wanted to talk to her.
Saturday they wanted me to get out of bed for breakfast, but I wouldn't get up. So for lunch, they set the tray on the table for both me and my roommate, forcing us both to get out of bed. The nurses were complaining that we were being lazy. My roommate finally spoke to me some. She had said earlier that she didn't know English, but her English was fine. (Lunch was a salmon pastry thing that was very good.) At supper, they did the same thing, making us eat at the table. (Supper was cold tomatoes and cheese.) We decided to show them that we could move if we wanted, and the two of us took a walk down to the sun room, rested, and then came back.
Then this one nurse I didn't like, partly because she didn't even try to speak anything except Luxembourgish, and partly because she wouldn't stop talking, decided I needed my bandages changed. I told her that the doctor said they were fine, but she insisted. The bandage changing was fine, but she almost killed me trying to get the white support hose back on. I had told my roommate at supper about my earlier accident, and how much the splint had hurt my little toe, and how I couldn't seem to explain to the nurses that they needed to be careful of both my little toe and my ankle. So my roommate explained it to this nurse in Luxembourgish, and she still managed to bang up both sides of my ankle and almost tear off my little toe.
Then my roommate wanted to watch "Deutschland Superstar", Germany's version of "American Idol", and she said if I didn't mind, we could watch it together (we had separate TVs, but I hadn't ever gotten mine to work). It was down to the final three contestants, so the singing was pretty good. The first guy, Mike, started out singing "Mandy", not my favorite song, but it reminds me of that Ray Stevens song. The girl sang something I can't remember, and sang it like she was nervous. The next guy, Tobias, sang "Are we having fun yet?", and did a good job. Then Mike sang "Against All Odds", a song that always makes me cry. Then Jessica sang Whitney Houston's "Greatest Love", another song that makes me cry, except that Jessica sounded bad at the end. Then Tobias sang a sad song about how his girl will always be there with him even though she's gone. When they went to commercial, I rang for the nurse to get my pain pill for the night, thinking the show was almost over. After the break, they all got to sing a dedication song. Mike sang to Jessica "She's so Beautiful to Me" and had Jessica crying, and then I was crying. Then Jessica sang a song for her sister, a song I didn't know, and it was in German, but she sang it really well, and the words were so beautiful, and I was thinking about Kathy, and then I was really crying, with tears running down my face and neck. Right when the song ended the nurse comes in, and I ask for my pain pill, and she's worried because I'm crying. I'm explaining that it was a really beautiful song on the TV, and my roommate is trying to explain it to her also, but she's still worried about the both of us. It was pretty funny, except that we couldn't stop crying.
So when the show was over, I'm still thinking about Kathy, and feeling sorry for myself. But then I decide that thinking about Kathy should make me happy because there are so many good memories, so I start thinking about happy things (like that "insane, but preppie" email). Many of my happy memories involve all my friends at Census, so I fell asleep that night thinking about Kathy, Joe, Amy, Suzanne, and Lynn, and I feel asleep laughing.
In the morning, I had this dream that Darin and I, Kathy and her husband Dave, and Joe, were in Kathy and Dave's RV on our way to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. I was still on crutches. And Joe's wife didn't want to come with us. Joe suggested we stop at a Walmart on the way to buy souvenirs. I stayed in the RV. Joe came back from shopping and showed me this really ugly, wild Hawaiian shirt, and said, "I bought this for Steve, but now I'm not so sure. Is this too gay, or should I buy him a dress instead?" I woke up then, laughing. It was my best night so far. I slept straight from 23:30 to 5:50. (By the way, the dream won't make any sense to Joe either, I'm sure. I have no idea who Steve is, or what the dream means, but it did cheer me up.)
Sunday morning my roommate started throwing up and had a really bad day. Wendy from church came by, but my roommate had lots of loud visitors, sometimes as many as 8 in our really small room (with no curtains to pull either, so to keep some modesty, I have to stay under the covers even though it's hot in the room).
But my little toe is feeling a lot better. And I'm really thankful for my friends, even if I'm too far away from home for them to come visit.
Monday morning I proved to the physical therapist that I could be released by walking up and back down a flight of stairs. It was really tiring. My doctor said I'm making good progress, and he released me. Fortunately, there were no stairs at our house in Luxembourg, and now that I'm at Mom and Dad's, I can just crawl up the stairs. Luxembourg does not seem to be very handicapped and wheelchair friendly, compared to the US. I think that I'll find a way to avoid stairs for the most part.
Kathy called me at the hospital on the afternoon I was released. It was so good to hear her voice. If she only knew how much I've been thinking about her. I wonder if she knows how much I appreciate her? I really appreciated the regular phone calls from my parents also. It really gave me something to look forward to every day.
So I celebrated my 52nd Monday in Luxembourg by coming home from the hospital.
My doctor says I can't work for six weeks, and he was totally OK with our going back to the States. So just about the time we forced my boss to agree to our schedule for a final day, I didn't go back to work anyway.
ttfn
28 February, 2006
February's Beautiful Picture of Luxembourg
20 February, 2006
A Moving Company for the Return Trip
We have learned a lot this past year, about ourselves and about various things going on around us. At least Darin and I have. The kids will see, someday, that they have learned something, too. I don't have time this morning to go through everything we have learned, but we have learned a lot about moving.
The worst thing you can do to find a mover is to go to a web site that says if you enter your information, then they will have movers send bids to you. Most of the offers you will get will be from moving companies that are not entirely legitimate.
The best place to start is with your local phone book, or the phone book of the place where you are going, and often the yellow pages can be seen on the web now.
Also, there are several "accreditation"-type groups for movers, so it is also possible to find lists of moving companies from their web sites, such as www.fidi.com. There is also RIM (Registered International Mover, info at http://www.promover.org/education/rim.htm) Certification, OMNI (Overseas Movers Network International) Membership, and ISO 9002 Certification.
We filled out one of the on-line forms, but I didn't want to rely on that with the problems we had with moving companies before. I also wrote directly to several movers from the accreditation sites and from the local phone book.
For the companies that responded to the on-line form, we found problems when I looked them up on-line. One of the companies, Unitrans International Inc., had its license pulled by the US Government, and other companies owned by the same people were under investigation for money laundering. When we wrote back to the company to ask for an explanation, we were told, after about a week of not hearing from them, that it was another company using their name, and they were completely in the clear. I told Darin that even if her story was true, it didn't bode well that it took her a week to answer our email question.
We also had some interest from a company called Wheaton. Though they don't seem to be under investigation, they also are not very responsive when we ask questions.
Though you shouldn't hire a company only based on the web, the web is a very powerful tool for checking on a moving company. Do a Google Search. Check out sites like MovingScam.com. There are a lot of really bad companies out there. After reading some of the stories on these sites, I feel very grateful that we only lost money on the move over here, and not everything we own. Another place to check on international movers is with the Federal Maritime Commission. Their FAQ on movers: http://www.fmc.gov/home/faq/index.asp?F_CATEGORY_ID=18.
The company we are going to hire to get us back to the States is Security Storage Company at www.wemove4u.com. They are fully licensed, gave us a great rate, and have been very responsive to emails. They also come very highly recommended on several web sites.
And they take credit cards. Though not a sure-fire test, I suppose, it is something we have noticed. A lot of the moving companies out there don't take credit cards. We think this is directly related to how they do business. For example, if we had put down a deposit with Sea & Air Cargo on our credit card, and then they didn't show up when promised, we could have simply called the credit card and cancelled. Our new moving company doesn't need a deposit -- we pay when they show up. And we can put it all on the credit card if we want.
We hope to get the container delivery scheduled very soon, and airline tickets bought. Hopefully, we'll hear from our real estate agent today also. I feel sometimes that I won't be able to keep my head above water because everything is changing so quickly. When 2006 began, I thought we would be in the country for another 2 years, and now we could be flying back to the States in less than a month. At least we never finished unpacking. Maybe deep down inside we had seen all this coming all along.
The worst thing you can do to find a mover is to go to a web site that says if you enter your information, then they will have movers send bids to you. Most of the offers you will get will be from moving companies that are not entirely legitimate.
The best place to start is with your local phone book, or the phone book of the place where you are going, and often the yellow pages can be seen on the web now.
Also, there are several "accreditation"-type groups for movers, so it is also possible to find lists of moving companies from their web sites, such as www.fidi.com. There is also RIM (Registered International Mover, info at http://www.promover.org/education/rim.htm) Certification, OMNI (Overseas Movers Network International) Membership, and ISO 9002 Certification.
We filled out one of the on-line forms, but I didn't want to rely on that with the problems we had with moving companies before. I also wrote directly to several movers from the accreditation sites and from the local phone book.
For the companies that responded to the on-line form, we found problems when I looked them up on-line. One of the companies, Unitrans International Inc., had its license pulled by the US Government, and other companies owned by the same people were under investigation for money laundering. When we wrote back to the company to ask for an explanation, we were told, after about a week of not hearing from them, that it was another company using their name, and they were completely in the clear. I told Darin that even if her story was true, it didn't bode well that it took her a week to answer our email question.
We also had some interest from a company called Wheaton. Though they don't seem to be under investigation, they also are not very responsive when we ask questions.
Though you shouldn't hire a company only based on the web, the web is a very powerful tool for checking on a moving company. Do a Google Search. Check out sites like MovingScam.com. There are a lot of really bad companies out there. After reading some of the stories on these sites, I feel very grateful that we only lost money on the move over here, and not everything we own. Another place to check on international movers is with the Federal Maritime Commission. Their FAQ on movers: http://www.fmc.gov/home/faq/index.asp?F_CATEGORY_ID=18.
The company we are going to hire to get us back to the States is Security Storage Company at www.wemove4u.com. They are fully licensed, gave us a great rate, and have been very responsive to emails. They also come very highly recommended on several web sites.
And they take credit cards. Though not a sure-fire test, I suppose, it is something we have noticed. A lot of the moving companies out there don't take credit cards. We think this is directly related to how they do business. For example, if we had put down a deposit with Sea & Air Cargo on our credit card, and then they didn't show up when promised, we could have simply called the credit card and cancelled. Our new moving company doesn't need a deposit -- we pay when they show up. And we can put it all on the credit card if we want.
We hope to get the container delivery scheduled very soon, and airline tickets bought. Hopefully, we'll hear from our real estate agent today also. I feel sometimes that I won't be able to keep my head above water because everything is changing so quickly. When 2006 began, I thought we would be in the country for another 2 years, and now we could be flying back to the States in less than a month. At least we never finished unpacking. Maybe deep down inside we had seen all this coming all along.
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