When you know it’s time to leave.

 

*When you start counting down the days.

 

Today’s count is 22 sleeps and a “wakie”.

(It’s an Air Force term,  don’t ask)

 

 

*When the humidity goes up a little,  and you start to get homesick.  Possibly a little more emphasis on the “sick” part in that case.

 

*When you walk in the front door and it kind of smells like our dearly departed motor home.    It was a “good” smell,  really!   Hard to explain.

Never mind.

 

*When the neighbour’s cat on the roof seems amusing enough to warrant a photo.  I’d be worried the cat would take a tumble.  We’re up seven flights,  so I don’t think that would go well.

 

 

Silly bugger.

 

Oh,  and remember how I said “there’s green all around us”?   Well,  the folks two buildings over actually have a garden shed on the roof.  See it?  Can’t make that kind of stuff up.

 

 

*When you really and truly don’t want to buy any more “stuff”,   since you know you probably could find something similar tucked away in a cupboard back home.

 

 

 

If my wife sees this,  hopefully I got the kind she wants.  Since we are definitely heading for Slovenia first thing Saturday morning,  and want to take along all the fixing's for a meal,  I needed a couple containers of a certain dimension to fit into the little cooler we have. 

Yes dear,  I’ve run them through the dishwasher.

 

It pains me to point out that I have a host of coolers back home,  but had to buy yet another one a while back, since I failed to ship any of them.   *sigh*

This comes from not moving “lock,  stock and barrel”,  and having to some how figure out just exactly what it is you’ll really need in order to live in Europe for three years.  Ended up being four.  So far anyway.

 

Mind you,  moving “lock stock and barrel”  would have been a huge nightmare, even though I went through everything and carted off truckloads of excess “stuff” in the weeks before we came over here,  I can’t even conceive of where we’d end up putting everything if we cleaned out the house, garage and shed. 

Plus,  having a certain amount of “stuff” back home can be liberating on the luggage front.  I don’t take anything home with me.  Most times I have a carry on,  which consists of my computer and camera.    This time around we’ll need to take a checked bag,  since Nephew Boy,  being the sharp one that he is,  bought too much junk,  and didn’t have room for it in his luggage.   Such a clever lad. 

 

Not much else going on.

 

 

It’s another cool cloudy day.  The Austrians are fretting over their lost summer.  They can cry me a river.

We roasted last summer.

I’m comfortable. 

 

It’s all good.

 

.