Everyone needs a "Magda".

Well,  I've been mulling this over pretty much all day,  and even after mucking around in the garden for an hour or so,  a brief trip to Ikea, where once again the place was mobbed (seriously,  we need to open a franchise!...)  and then a trip into town on the bike,  (need that bit of exercise) I simply have to pipe up about this.


See,  when my wife was a little girl,  she thought every family unit consisted of a "Mom,  Dad and a Magda",  and was quite surprised to hear that none of her school mates had such an arrangement.  "What do you mean,  you don't have a Magda?"
Madga you see,  is one of my sisters-in-law,  and when Gabe was just at that impressionable age,  Madga was just that much older that she had a job.  With the job came the things that kids love to have,  such as colouring books and treats.  These were not items in the family budget at the time.  So having a "Magda"  was pretty darned nice.

To this day, even though our kids are really no longer kids,  we know that if it comes right down to it,  they can always count on heading to Magda's if there were ever to be any kind of issue that would require assistance.   Anything.

After all,  their parents are a half a world away.

So here's where I'm going with this.

Yesterday there were many many Birthday greetings from far and wide,  and I'm sure I thanked each and every person.
Later in the day,  at the time when I could likely expect a call from Gabe in Vienna,  the phone rang,  but it wasn't Gabe at all,  but Magda.  Just calling from Canada to wish me a Happy Birthday and asking if I'm OK?

Now I ask you? 

Who does that?

Only Magda.


 I'm sure glad we have our Magda.

............../..............

Now for some fun.

You recall no doubt that I had made mention of a mysterious piece of paper we received in the mail last week some time?  Well,  I just can't let this go,  and I'll try and not go on and on....but really,  I can't help it.
See,  the envelope had no return address,  and the part that got the thing to our mail box was hand written.  I could only tell by the post mark that it had come from somewhere in Delden....

So I just want to show you this thing,  just so you know I'm not making any of this up.
You'll see the piece of paper below.
Now,  I'd call it an "invoice",  except how can that be?  There's no hint as to who gets the money,   or where it's from.

Well,  you can see for yourself:

Now,  I'm not really the sharpest knife in the drawer,  but I know that once upon a time when I used to do a little job now and again,  I made sure that it was well understood just who was supposed to get the money.
It's kind of important.  Otherwise,  what are ya doing??

 And yes,  I realise it's all in Dutch but really,  would it make a difference if it were in English?

I think all that business at the bottom is because the person responsible was moving some items around in a Word document and screwed it all up,  but decided it was fine the way it was,  (or panicked) and printed it off.  Wow.

The long and the short of it is,   I took this bit of info to OUR bank,   with the post-it note of the account into which the money was supposed to go,  and the lady at the bank was able to do something on line or whatever.   All I know is,  she figured it out and I have a signed receipt.  We're reasonably certain they got their €12.40 but frankly,  if they didn't,  I really doubt Interpol is really going to care.....and I could care less.

So now let's think about this.   The "Mrs Doctor",  whoever she is,  has decided to do the billing for the practise.   What would make her think she's remotely qualified?   If you marry a doctor does that mean you can suddenly do things about which you have no clue?

Apparently.

And really,  there are books you can buy,  and if you're an "el cheapo"  like me,  just look it up on the internet!  There are hosts of people out there who are all too happy to share their knowledge,  even if it's only enough knowledge to tell you to put a return address on an envelope! 



Seriously!

(and just for fun...click that link)