Still lagged

It's been a few days now since getting back here to La-la land, but neither of us are "quite right" it seems. For my part, I still seem to be up half the night, only to crash about mid day. It's been kind of warm here the last few days, and the upstairs does tend to get too warm for sleeping, so that doesn't help either.

Hence, no huge desire for blogging.

Sorry.

Didn't figure any one's life would be put too much on hold as a result.

Not sure how to put this and I don't want it to come off the wrong way, but it was rather nice to come home on the much smoother Dutch roads after we got here Sunday morning.
The difference is truly astounding.

Well, to be completely fair, there was also a huge difference between loping along in a Jeep Wrangler (no worries about breaking any speed limits either) and getting into the A6.
How should I put this? Let's just compare riding a jackass into the Grand Canyon with say, taking a thoroughbred around Woodbine? I'll let you figure that one out.


Now I realise they don't get the deep frost issues here that we get back in Canada, but really, planned obsolescence when it comes to road building is not the way to go. They do in fact get frost here, and there's gobs of truck traffic, but the roads do seem to hold up just fine. Better built maybe?
Could it be 'cause our all knowing government types are forever going with the "cheapest bid"?
Just a thought. Too complicated an issue to get into it here.
Yes, the cost of living is heaps higher here, but sometimes it seems you gets what you pays for.

I'm just saying.

I think I have the perfect example that has nothing to do with the roads, but is oh so telling when it comes to some fundamental differences between North America and Yurp.


Here you have it:Yes...that's a clean toilet.

Just about the first place I head for when getting off a plane is the washroom. That means I had to visit the facilities in both Newark and then Toronto. Good grief! I think the one in Toronto had just been "cleaned" and it was still pathetic. Boy, I sure knew I was "back home"!
Mind you, if you saw just who they have cleaning their washrooms, you might get the idea that different cultures perhaps have a different take on what "clean" actually means, but we'll not get into any sort of racial profiling here.
It's not like you have to pay to go to the washroom at Schiphol, like you do at most all gas stations, but they're still spotlessly clean.
Now you might say, "but I can go into any public washroom in North America and not pay a dime!"

But really, why would you want to??

This was one of the things I really enjoyed about motor home travel. I always knew who used my washroom last.

But I digress.

I did manage to get the grass cut on Monday, but still need to get out and haul out a few weeds ("a few" he sez....)
It didn't come as any surprise that landlord Dude failed once again to keep his word, since the lawnmower was sitting exactly where I left it. (it's in need of some repair work)
Had he bothered to come by, he might have actually been able to collect the gobs of mail in our box. I think more than half of it was not ours. Don't mean to be petty, but I'm in no hurry to deliver their mail.

Maybe they're on vacation? Who knows?