This post is nothing more than an update on what the Dal, Hel and Bel's are doing with themselves. I guess most of my posts are so I am not sure why I am so apologetic about this one....
We have been in Hobart living with my parents for just under a month now. While we are so appreciative of their hospitality and love being able to spend time with them, we are both (Dal and Hel) now ready to move into a place of our own.
It has been two whole months since we left Sydney and it has been over seven months since we have actually lived with OUR stuff. Our stuff doesn't amount to much when you look at it all packed in a 20 foot container. In fact it doesn't even fill a 20 foot container, but it is still our stuff and I long for my own cookware. I desperately want to curl up on our ugly brown couch and watch our dirty little television while LQ plays with her two enormous boxes of toys.
I want to go to the bathroom and leave the door open. I want LQ to sleep in a different bedroom to Dal and I. I want to be a home maker again instead of a holiday maker.
Cross your fingers and pray that this third place that we have applied for will be the one.
But after all's said and done, you know I will want to spend most of my time back here at mum's place... I'll just have my own place to retreat to once I have had enough.
Sunday, 30 August 2009
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
One named Peter, One named Paul
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Since when did we start preparing food on the chairs?
You have heard many times that Love is the universal language. Regardless of your language barriers, if you are in love you will get by.
True enough sentiment if you like being misunderstood by every other person in your lover's life.
When Dal and I first met all was well with the world. We got along famously and we both spoke english. What a coup! Love is blind and maybe deaf as well, because I can't remember having any issues with difference in speech or language in those beginnings. I dare say Dal noticed many differences but just bit his tongue and endured the little nuances in my language.
It wasn't until I moved down to Orem, Utah to date Dal properly that I even suspected that Australian's and American's spoke a little differently.
I had the opportunity to help a friend out by answering a few phones and during this time I realised that a lot of people couldn't understand me. And for heavens sake .... how DO you pronounce Orem? Is it Oh-rem, Oar-rem, O-rem? I lost the count on the times my friend had to correct my pronunciation of that wonderful little city. I am STILL completely confused about it's pronunciation - all because I have been corrected so many times.
It was so difficult for me to pronounce Orem the correct way because I had to speak like an American to get it right. Those hard 'R's ' get me every time. So in an effort to help those poor unsuspecting souls on the phone and protect my sanity, I began to slightly change inflections and important 'R's' in my speech. Oh, it's alright - I didn't change my accent, because that is one way people remembered me. But my accent became more... mixed. It was not only my accent that change ever so slightly. Certain words came into my vocabulary that I would not have otherwise used.
I call it my "Amestralia Language". I continue to perfect this bastardisation of the two languages every time I visit the Land of the Free.
Admittedly, I still get a few things wrong.
"Ju-Ju! Would you mind passing the hairdryer out to me. I think it is there in the bathroom with you on the bench!" I am yelling through the bathroom door to my youngest sister-in-law.
There is silence.
"It's a COUNTER sweetheart! She's not going to know what you mean," shouts Dal from down the hall.
"Oh... Sorry! I mean the COUNTER." Immediately I am rewarded with a hairdryer.
"Um... I guess we could use the bench to cut these vegetables." A perfectly reasonable suggestion to me until those around me start looking confusedly outside at the bench.
Yes... I call both a chair and a counter top the same thing. Only occasionally - and now only in Australia.
True enough sentiment if you like being misunderstood by every other person in your lover's life.
When Dal and I first met all was well with the world. We got along famously and we both spoke english. What a coup! Love is blind and maybe deaf as well, because I can't remember having any issues with difference in speech or language in those beginnings. I dare say Dal noticed many differences but just bit his tongue and endured the little nuances in my language.
It wasn't until I moved down to Orem, Utah to date Dal properly that I even suspected that Australian's and American's spoke a little differently.
I had the opportunity to help a friend out by answering a few phones and during this time I realised that a lot of people couldn't understand me. And for heavens sake .... how DO you pronounce Orem? Is it Oh-rem, Oar-rem, O-rem? I lost the count on the times my friend had to correct my pronunciation of that wonderful little city. I am STILL completely confused about it's pronunciation - all because I have been corrected so many times.
It was so difficult for me to pronounce Orem the correct way because I had to speak like an American to get it right. Those hard 'R's ' get me every time. So in an effort to help those poor unsuspecting souls on the phone and protect my sanity, I began to slightly change inflections and important 'R's' in my speech. Oh, it's alright - I didn't change my accent, because that is one way people remembered me. But my accent became more... mixed. It was not only my accent that change ever so slightly. Certain words came into my vocabulary that I would not have otherwise used.
I call it my "Amestralia Language". I continue to perfect this bastardisation of the two languages every time I visit the Land of the Free.
Admittedly, I still get a few things wrong.
"Ju-Ju! Would you mind passing the hairdryer out to me. I think it is there in the bathroom with you on the bench!" I am yelling through the bathroom door to my youngest sister-in-law.
There is silence.
"It's a COUNTER sweetheart! She's not going to know what you mean," shouts Dal from down the hall.
"Oh... Sorry! I mean the COUNTER." Immediately I am rewarded with a hairdryer.
"Um... I guess we could use the bench to cut these vegetables." A perfectly reasonable suggestion to me until those around me start looking confusedly outside at the bench.
Yes... I call both a chair and a counter top the same thing. Only occasionally - and now only in Australia.
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Love Note to a Virgin
Oh Virgin Airlines how I love thee, let me count the ways
My dearest Virgin Airlines please never leave me in my hour of flying. You are my favourite and always will be... until I am able to fly business class.
P.S. Richard Branson, even though you are a complete toolbag, I may be in love with you for creating the Virgin brand. I said MAYBE!!
- the ease with which you check me in sets my heart aflutter. be it on international or domestic flights.
- I love your international flight and personal entertainment systems. The constant Playhouse Disney for LQ, the ever ready solitaire for mindless time passing, and your interactive games that I can beat Dal with.
- Your baggage check through at the international airport made me dizzy with pleasure. The added bonus of free shuttle to the domestic airport had me thinking you are too good to be true.
- Even though your domestic airline didn't have a flight to Hobart for some time after we arrived in sydney, your lounge service went above and beyond my wildest expectations.
- How could I have known you would refresh me with your lovely showers, entertain LQ with your enormous theatre room while we stretched out on your long luxurious theatre seats.
- If my house is not available, you, Virgin Lounge are my number one choice.
- I love you friendly and helpful staff - constant with their friendliness and helpfulness. I depend on your friendliness.
- I love your domestic flights with their better snack choices than other airlines and once again you provide me with personal entertainment.
My dearest Virgin Airlines please never leave me in my hour of flying. You are my favourite and always will be... until I am able to fly business class.
P.S. Richard Branson, even though you are a complete toolbag, I may be in love with you for creating the Virgin brand. I said MAYBE!!
Monday, 3 August 2009
Back to Oz
We are about to leave for our LOOOOOONG journey back to Australia. We have a six hour stopover in Sydney while we wait for the other flight to Hobart.
Each time we come to visit Dal's family, leaving gets harder. I get closer and more attached to everyone. This makes for a really hard time leaving. I know that if Dal's mom starts to cry, I definitely will - so this is my plan. I am not going to make eye contact with anyone for the next 20 minutes. Once we are out the door I should be fine.
Of course at the same time I am excited to be seeing my family again. Such swinging emotions should NOT be experienced at the same time.
Each time we come to visit Dal's family, leaving gets harder. I get closer and more attached to everyone. This makes for a really hard time leaving. I know that if Dal's mom starts to cry, I definitely will - so this is my plan. I am not going to make eye contact with anyone for the next 20 minutes. Once we are out the door I should be fine.
Of course at the same time I am excited to be seeing my family again. Such swinging emotions should NOT be experienced at the same time.
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