Before I moved to Austria I don’t think I’d ever been in a cellar. In Australia you build a shed. And when you run out of room you build a bigger shed. Or you store stuff in the roof space. When we started looking at houses in Austria I pointed out a nice, cute, one-story place to hubby. He was unimpressed – apparently the rule was no-cellar-no-buy.
I couldn’t understand it. But because everyone here grew up with a cellar, they class it as essential. In the same way that I had to have a hills hoist in the back garden, hubby had to have a cellar. And I must say, I have adapted to having a cellar. I couldn’t imagine life without it now. Why, you ask? Read on!
I’m a crier. Anyone who knows me knows that. And what’s more, often I actually like crying. I enjoy the release of emotion. I feel like it’s something I need to do on a semi-regular basis to stay sane. If it all gets too much, on goes the Notebook or Armageddon… and off I go!
But now my tears are getting confused.
How to start? Cliché, cliché, cliché, is all I can think of. So I’ll just say it. A few days ago my dog died. And I’m devastated.
None of which, by the way, I saw on my recent trip to Australia.
I hadn’t meant to go back to Oz at the end of the year, but with hubby’s new job, I suddenly found myself a-flush with more leave than him, and we decided it was a good chance for me to take the trip on my own.
So off I tripped… for a whole month… just cause I could.
Growing up in Melbourne I’ve always been close to the beach. Our family holidays were often coastal and featured a lot of swimming both in surf and the calmer waters of the bay. From about the age of 10 my parents joined us up to a sailing club in Safety Beach, and from then on, until I decided I was too old to spend Sunday’s with my parents, we were there every week from November to April, rain hail or shine.
I enjoyed a busy summer of visits this year… just two short weeks after one of my besties visited, along came my parents.
My folks have visited three times now, and it’s already their second staying in our house. Luckily the house is big enough (for everyone to have his own bedroom if they so choose).
See the blanket of clouds… I live under them 😦
Five years ago today I arrived in Austria.
I remember the pre-winter sky being impossibly blue. Nine degrees and sunny was pretty good for that time of year.
I was there on an adventure – a quest of love – a gamble.
I had no idea what was to come.
I could not have imagined that five years later I would still be here.
Netflix is great… isn’t it?
Well, whatever your opinion it’s a bit of a turnaround for me, because I was always the one that insisted I would never pay for TV. I didn’t need all those extra random channels full of repeats and garbage… what was available on free to air was perfectly fine.
To be fair I wasn’t a huge TV watcher, but still.
Then I arrived in Austria. And suddenly TV was all German. All German. All. The. Time. And so I just stopped watching TV completely. And I did weird things like actually hiring or buying DVDs.
And then came Netflix.
In August I was lucky enough to have a visitor – one of my best friends in the world was undertaking her very first Eurotrip and after a 14 day cruise from Amsterdam to Hungary I met up with her in Budapest.
The Christmas just gone I spent a whole month in Australia. One. Whole. Month. Which should be enough time to catch up with everyone, shouldn’t it? Well it was, and it wasn’t. Juggling Christmas, with family commitments, holidays and going back to work, time seemed to get sucked away
I want to see everyone. I want to spend time with everyone. And not just time, but quality time. I want alone-time with my girlfriends, I want alone-time with all my friends together in a group, and I want additional catch ups with hubby there. Perhaps a week with every friend and family member would do it.