When CRS is fun.

You should probably know by now (at this point in your life, I mean) that by “CRS”,  I really and truly mean,  “Can’t Remember Sh*t”.  

Just thought I’d bring you up to speed.

 

As an aside,  I’d also like to mention that I saw a sign on a pick-up truck last week with “CRS Contracting” on the door,  and I thought,  “Well hey,  at least he’s honest about it.”    But it turns out the CRS was something else entirely.  How was I to know otherwise?

See,  today was the day that our “Air Shipment”  was due to arrive.  The word was, that the crew was scheduled for between 9:00 and 11:00 a.m. which, considering they were coming from Mississauga, was a fairly narrow window.  I think it was around 10 when they showed up.

There wasn’t much.  We didn’t ship much by air.  When we found out how freakin’ long it would take,  we just shoved more of T.C.’s clothes into suitcases,  and made like we were some immigrant family coming to Canada with all their worldly possessions in three suitcases.  We managed.  I don’t do the whole porter thing.  I’m really and truly only going to travel with whatever number of suitcases I can manage,  so I don’t need some Dude with a two wheeler hanging around with me at the carousel. 

Plus,  I’m not that lazy and besides, I didn’t have any small Canadian bills on me.

So there it is.

Um ya.   Not really a whole lot.   We were allowed up to 350kg.,  and I have no clue just how much that would have been.   The important one was the guitar there off to the right.  I unpacked it,  retuned it (you need to either take the strings completely off or loosen them for air travel) and it’s fine.  I did have to retune it again after it warmed up some.   I’m sure you care.

Of course,  in my infinite wisdom,  I didn’t air ship the stand,  although I did seem to think that I had put it over there off to the side to go with the other stuff.  It got missed. Meh, whatever.   Just means it has to go back in its hard case.   I think my “music room”  will quite likely be downstairs.

 

The dog is sulking just a bit, since he’s an excitable lad,  and needed to be sequestered in the kitchen.  Well,  and he also had to be “spoken to”,  and since his “Dad” and I are the Alpha males in these parts, being “spoken to” usually means he’s going to be in trouble if he doesn’t smarten up in a hurry. 

Having three strange men wander into the house with strange boxes,  all of which have strange, new and exciting smells was just about too much for him to handle.  He’s really and truly a good dog.  He just loses his mind once in a while.

 

Now,  speaking of losing your mind, other than the guitar,  I did seem to recollect that T.C. had placed a few more pairs of shoes in with this shipment,  along with a hand bag (not just any handbag either,  but let’s not get side tracked) and a small box of highly prized fabric.  Meh,  silk or something.  I didn’t really look.

But the thing is,  I FORGOT that we had shipped our pillows!   I don’t think I get that worked up at Christmas any more!  See,  sometimes it’s not so bad to completely forget.  It’s fun to be surprised.

 

This may very well be the first time you ever see a grown man get a little giddy over a pillow.  But these are the enormous feather pillows that are quite common all over Europe.   See, there may be some things we’ll miss about living in Vienna,  but having a honkin’ big feather pillow isn’t going to be one of them.  

Oh,  and don’t you love the fifties colours there in the background?   This is our main bathroom.  One of these days,  it’s going to all come out.  Oh,  I’m just so looking forward to that.

 

I was going to mutter on about the license situation,  but I’m already starting to get a bit long winded,  so I’ll quit while you’re still awake.

 

Have a mighty fine weekend,  in case I don’t check back.  You know how that works.

 

Keep those sticks on the ice.

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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