Practicing one-hand writing after having had what seems to be a very common accident if you ask ER employees: the Avocado Accident. Cool name, not so cool incident. You know, sharp knife, slippery pit, soft hand (stupidly holding the avocado). Now this happened in the middle of packing a house and ending an expat life. Five days before the grand tour to say goodbye to each room, to the point of tearfully thanking them for good times and memories – including the basement! – and closing our heavy black door behind us for the last time. It is safe to say that timing is everything. Continue reading “One-hand moving”
Hvis noen hadde sagt til meg da vi flyttet til det store utland (vel,teknisk sett lille – vi snakker om Luxembourg) at det skulle føles fremmed og – ja, litt skummelt rett og slett – å flytte hjem igjen, hadde jeg sikkert ikke festet meg nevneverdig ved det.
Og i hvert fall ikke hvis vedkommende hadde påstått at kjoler ville ha noe med den saken å gjøre. Continue reading “Gamle koster og nye kjoler”
So I just have to write about Paris one last time, at least as part of my expat life! Just to make it even more clear how upset I am about not being able to hop on the train for a daytrip there anymore (I know, spoiled expat wife and all that, but still). Continue reading “Mondays in Paris”