Back to work this week with thoughts of emigration. A friend in Belgium told us that the European Commission pays a huge increase in salary to people going from Brussels to London due to the cost of living. "Why you people don't have a revolution is beyond me," he said. Indeed. Am thinking of upping my Dutch from kip/kaas/dank u well and alles goed in order to move to Amsterdam. Holland seems such a civilised country and so fit. I was impressed particularly by the firmness of buttock of the older generation on their bikes. Surely I could study to be a lawyer and get a super duper job in The Hague putting war criminals in prison? The girls, lucky them, are still on holiday and in holiday mood, which means staying up very late and singing Abba with accompanying dances in the back of the car everywhere we go. I think they all now know as many of the words as I know to the songs and they all chorus the need for a hankie for mummy when Chiquitita comes on. I have dedicated their rendition of Thank you for the music to the Taliban, especially the bit "without a song and a dance what are we" although I am not entirely sure the Taliban have banned all singing, but it's a kind of girl power/liberation moment when sung at full pelt by three giggly girls squeezed into the back of our car.
We are now planning Christmas, although not yet holiday childcare - I like to live on the edge and leave that to Fate. Who knows what will have happened by Christmas???? I think I suffer from having read way too much romantic fiction as a child, particularly Wuthering Heights which I won three times at school for being a total swot. I kind of expect something to Happen somewhere along the line. Maybe it wasn't the romantic fiction so much as the fact we moved about 13 times when I was a child and my stepfather was a conman. Something WAS always happening...
Anyway, it's kind of weird going back to work when the work I do at the beginning of the week is from home. There is no-one to welcome you back or to give Dutch chocolates to. The cat is happy to see us - mainly because we got him some posh food for a treat, but it's not quite the same communicating your backness by email. I have also taken on the responsibility of looking after the neighbour's fish while they are away. This only involves putting a light on for them and turning it off after seven hours. I am terrified, however, of leaving the light on too long and frying them accidentally. I once had to look after a flatmate's fish and accidentally sprayed some furniture polish [not sure why as I never cleaned the flat] in a corner of the flat only to see the poor fish gulping for air seconds later. Luckily, after a quick wash in the bath, it was fine. But I have thought of myself ever after as a Threat to Fish. Unfortunately, toddler girl wants to be a fish when she grows up.
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