Has it come down to this?

I do realise it has been suggested in the past,  that most any time I put finger tip to keyboard, the result does tend to devolve into some sort of “stream of consciousness” nonsense.

I didn’t realise I had slipped that far.  Maybe I need to do point form?  Are there too many subordinate clauses?  Wait, you do know what a subordinate clause is,  right?

I suppose I could just say, “try to keep up”,  and be done with it,  but I’ll try and settle down.  Maybe.

 

I’m a little behind my times today (I think that’s a quote from Dickens “A Christmas Story”, yes?)  and it’s not even Christmas morning.   It’s just been well,  I don’t even want to use the word ‘busy’,  but the time sure flew by.  It’s getting too that,  every time the phone rings, I’m as nervous as a cat.  

I was on the phone with someone from back across the pond,  which means it was afternoon for me,  and when the phone made that sick beeping noise it tends to do when someone else is calling, I thought maybe it was someone from a moving company. 

That,  right there by the way,  is an example of completely irrational “nervous as a cat” type of thinking,  since it’s Friday afternoon,  it’s Austria,  and buddy,  you’re not going to get a call from any business within 1000 kilometres.  It was Travelling Companion,  saying she was on her way home.  Silly me.

We’re thinking we’ll pop downstairs for a pint and a bite to eat later,  so she’s having a little rest,  while I bore you with my drivel.

 

No pictures today.  And I’d prefer to not conjure up any from recent events.  Doesn’t seem right somehow.  Besides,  that would take some effort.  It was the usual Friday with the various Friday chores,  along with a quick trip down to the basement to let in some workers to see to that leek I mentioned the other day,  and fetch a box and bring it up here to rummage through.  There are a few more mystery boxes down there.   I know the movers will want to repack everything,  and that’s fine with me,  since a couple of those boxes have seen better days.  It’s a harsh environment down there in the nether world.

 

OK fine,  here’s a picture of the wet spot.

Somehow that drainage pipe right there had had some sort of a fit and was leaking ever so slightly.  I’m hopeful it was rain water.  If not well,  let’s just stop right there,  shall we?

 

If I haven’t said so lately,  and I know I haven’t,  thanks to those of you who have chosen to click on the “follow” thingy.  I’m certainly not at any “swelled head”  levels,  and considering I thought it was pretty neat when I broke through the “10” barrier,  these days I’m happy as a clam. 

How do you tell if a clam is happy?  

There I go again.  Sorry.

 

I’m reasonably certain I won’t be reporting back on dinner.  I’m sure you don’t mind.

Have just a fine weekend,  even if for some of you, “Every day is Saturday”.   This is something my oldest brother has been spouting for quite a few years now. I think he just says it to bug me.  Seems to me he retired back in the 80s. 

No,  I’m not kidding.  

I still seem to think I’d prefer to know what day it is.

 

Keep those sticks on the ice.

 

Thanks for looking in.

 

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Waiting for Hugo.

Of course I’m referring to Hugo Chávez,  and if you have to ask who that is,  I think you need to move along.

 

How’s this for a hint?

I know it’s German,  just keep reading.  It’s not that tough.

I figured that in the extremely unlikely event that one of Austrian’s Finest should come along and ask why I was parked there,  I’d just explain how I was waiting for Hugo.  Just kidding really, I’m only a smart-ass here in print.

The thing is though,  since Travelling Companion’s appointment was for six pm.,  you’re pretty much under the radar when it comes to temporarily hanging out in one of these coveted embassy type parking spots.  They’re all over the city.  We even have one just up the street from us for the Republic of Iran.  I think it’s Iran.  One of those God forsaken places.  Doesn’t matter.  If you’re Iranian and reading this,  this is for you…

كنت بحاجة للذهاب بعيدا.

Don’t worry,  nobody will be coming to my door to carry out a Jihad or anything,  it just say’s “go away”.   Google Translate can be awesome.  I can’t read what the hell it says,  so I’m hoping it’s close.  Maybe it says something about someone’s Mother!  Eeps.  Well let’s hope not, that would suck.

Boy,  that would be a nasty trick on the part of Google,  now wouldn’t it?

Anyhoodle,  all the Embassies around that area (this is across from the Belvedere, by the way) tend to roll up the welcome mat around five at the latest,  even though the sign across the street from this one indicated they were using the spot until 10:00 p.m.   Ya, right.  Not a soul in sight.  Makes for handy parking while waiting outside the Doctor’s office.  Best not to leave the car unattended just the same.  I ain’t that dumb.

 

So are you beginning to wonder how I’ve managed to go off on this mad little mental escapade?

Well,  as I was sitting there listening to a radio station out of the Czech Republic,  (actually, I just found it on the net,  it was Český rozhlas 2, out of Prague,  in case you’re wondering or perhaps in case you’d like to listen in on the web), trying to figure out the weather forecast, (Czech is tough,  trust me!)  I had this thought that,  the likelihood of Hugo Chávez needing to get into the parking spot I was occupying was probably on par with anything ever happening on the “moving home” front.  That’s pretty extreme  I know,  but that’s how my mind works. 

It’s sad, I’ll accept that.

And considering that poor ole Hugo is a tad under the weather,  I don’t think coming to Vienna is high on his “to do” list.  And really, I think in his case, it would be more like a “bucket list”?   Among other things,  the Dude has a lung infection, and they’re still thinking of swearing him in as President? Not sure about that line of thinking.

 

But let’s get back to me here,  shall we?

Like I said, this is just an example of my whacky thought process.  Really.  It turns out things are looking up in the “going home” department.  Travelling Companion did get a phone call later in the evening from some very smart person from across the pond,  and things are being put into motion. 

I’m still not too excited.  When the movers call,  I’ll let ya know.

There was no explanation why her voice mail message was still dated January third,  or why her “back up person” also wasn’t available. And this was after T.C. had sent several notes, and then had started calling every day.  So what, there’s only the two of them?  OK then.

This person’s explanation was along the lines of “Oh, I’ve been working behind the scenes!”,  whatever that means,  which did make me chuckle a little.

I think a good analogy would be when you ask your eight year old to go “clean their room”,  only to go in there an hour later to find the kid sitting in the midst of the disaster,  and very quickly offering that they,  “have been cleaning,  really!”,  when you can clearly see that there’s no evidence of any activity whatsoever.  There’s no point in getting upset right then,  since they must be doing something, you’re just not sure what.

 

You know, there have been many, many things that have been absolutely fabulous when it comes to the “Ex-Pat Experience”.   We’ve been living in Vienna,  for heaven’s sake!   But ya know,  having these somewhat regular moments of utter amazement when dealing with the very smart people way over yonder?  I can’t say I’m going to miss that part.  Nope, not a bit.

 

I sat here in utter wonderment listening to T.C. being nice as pie with this very smart person on the phone.  I honestly don’t know how she does it.  Her patience and understanding have no bounds. 

She lives with me after all.

 

I took a few minutes this morning and posted our washing machine on Vienna Expats.net,  so we’ll see if anyone is remotely interested in a slightly used washing machine.  Sure wish we could take it home.  Our fancy schmancy Whirlpool that I seem to think we bought some time in 2003 is on its last legs.   *grumble*

But I’m going to keep running that sucker until the bitter end.  I suspect the drum (it’s a front loader too)  will simply prolapse one fine day,  and that will be that.   Then fine, it’ll be off to Thompson Metals.   That’s what happened with the old top loader I pitched.  Did you know they strap a big freakin’ hunk of concrete in the bottom of those things?  Took that out and it was light as a feather.  Well, relatively speaking of course.   Much easier to get it up onto the back of a pick-up truck,  from which it then very unceremoniously got shoved off with all the other metal bits.  Oh ya,  I’ve been to Thompson Metals many times.

Even though we have 220 power at the house,  just like everyone else (hey, my table saw is 220)  and I could easily wire up something,  it’s a matter of phase and frequency.   I wouldn’t even want to attempt it,  so it has to go.

Oh,  and I just noticed on that Thompson Metals website,  they’re accepting “E-waste” like,  as in old computers and such?   Awesome! 

 

So there you go.  All is right in my little world.  I even found yet another place to get rid of some junk when we get home!    Can hardly wait.

 

The sun did briefly come out today,  so that was an added bonus.  Didn’t last long,  but every little bit helps.

At some point over the next few weeks there’s a plan afoot to make one last run down to Slovenia to visit the cousin.  Besides,  I’m coming up on the last of the Slovenian beer.    *gasp*   The horror!

 

 

Meh,  I think that’s it for today kids.  

 

Thanks for stopping by.

 

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Just a slight difference.

 

Last week at some point,  and it seems to me it was on the Friday,  Travelling Companion got a note from a gentleman in the Canadian Division of the Company that Cannot be Named,  asking her if she wouldn’t mind giving him a call?   She had worked with this fellow previously,  but these days the word is that he’s been elevated to the level of  “Grand Fromage” on that end of things.

Hey, whatever.

Now,  maybe it’s from living in Europe for four years, we’re not sure,  but her immediate reaction to such a request was basically a sense of dread.  Sad but true.

“What does he want?”,  was her first line of thinking,  but after the appropriate time had passed on Monday (you need to wait until mid afternoon if you plan on calling North America) she sucked it up and called the guy.

Know what he said?  “Oh, I just thought I’d ask what we can do for you.” 

(Editor’s note: Are you f**king kidding me??)

 

Of course,  I think there might have been just a second or two of incredulous silence on her end,  but she managed to put her brain in gear in spite of her utter shock and mentioned that she’d be bringing her computer, but that she'd need a phone.   “Oh no problem then,  we’ll get you a smart phone.”

Just. Like. That.

“And we’ll have an office ready for you by the time you get here as well.”   I’m paraphrasing,  but it was something to that effect.

Again, are you kidding me?    You mean to say it’s possible to have a few things ready for an executive when they’re transferring overseas?  What… a ….concept!   Not like when we came to Europe and she had to borrow a phone,  in spite of the fact that I can walk out my front door here,  into any number of shops within 50 metres and have a working phone in under an hour.   Chimps.  

I suspect that Travelling Companion’s swan song will be like a breath of fresh air.  Unless of course,  it’s just some devious ploy.   No, let’s not think like that.

I do realise she is going back to the “home land”, so to speak, so perhaps that has something to do with it.

Canadians have to do things like prepare for winter every year, and stuff like that, but that shouldn’t have anything to do with the idea of ‘being prepared’.  Really.

Oh, and by the way,  he’s not in HR. One rarely hears a peep from HR.  HR are the most useless bunch you could ever have the misfortune of ever being subjected to.   Just my opinion of course.  If you happened to work in HR, I’m sorry.   But if I were you,  I wouldn’t talk about it too much.  Tell everyone you’re a Fireman,  or even a Caretaker.

It reminds me of a car I saw in Burlington when we were home that belonged to the City of Burlington.  It had “Engineering” written on the side.  See, you may as just well write “Idiots” in its place and be done with it,  since that’s pretty much everyone’s opinion.   It’s right up there with “Building Department”.  

Personally, I’d be too embarrassed.

Just when I think I can’t come up with a segue,  speaking of cars and being slightly embarrassed, have I ever shown you one of these?

 

 

I took this Monday morning.  Note the white stuff. 

This folks, is a “Moped”.  Yes yes, I know,  I always thought Mopeds had only two wheels,  and that you had to pedal yer arse off to get the thing going.  It wasn’t until we moved to the Netherlands and I was given a Driver’s Handbook (whole other story) that I learned that they come in a vehicular form.  Crazy, huh?   They sound like they have a two-stroke engine,  are limited to 45 kph,  and my impression is that you don’t need much in the way of a licence to drive one, if at all.

I could look it up but really,  who cares?

Every so often there’s some bit of wackiness over here that makes you do a double take.  Kind of like when Travelling Companion got her Dutch driver’s license, and she was suddenly qualified to operate a scooter.  Heehee!  Right.  Like that’s going to happen!   Oh Gawd!

Mind you,  we have seen some absolutely gorgeous scooters, and there was temptation.  But T.C.?  I’m not saying that it would be an absolute impossibility,  but the learning curve would be,  say we say? interesting?   Let’s just leave it at that.

Anything’s possible.

 

Speaking of slightly awesome.  I saw this this morning.

 

 

Talk about practical.   It doesn’t quite look right to our North America sensibilities,  but you can fit four burly guys in there (or gals I suppose,  to each his/her own)  AND throw a skid of plywood on the back.  AND take it off from either side.   Man oh man!

I’ve had work vans and pick-up trucks,  and neither of those combinations were all that ideal.  With the pick-up truck,  you can never take anything out over the side,  for fear of scratching the crap out of the paint,  and well,  the vans I had were pretty bare.  But that was my own choice.  There was no third option like the one above.

 

Muggins here has the car today,  and I’ll be off shortly to pick up T.C.,  since there’s a Dr’s appointment scheduled for later this evening.  No big deal,  just a regular sort of thing,  but the lack of parking is such that it’s best that I drive and drop her off at the door.  I keep my cell phone handy to do the retrieval when she emerges.  It’s life in the big city.

Of course,  this makes “Cooking with Bob” a bit of a challenge,  but I made a bean salad last night,  and I’ll pop a frozen pizza in the oven when we get home.  Easy peasy.

 

I should have got the smaller can of white beans,  ‘cause it’s looking a bit too white there,  but it’s fine.   It’s supposed to have “garbanzo beans”  or “chick peas” if you prefer,  but I’ve never seen them here.  

I can do without them.

There was some grumbling last night about the amount of oil I used (not enough apparently) so I may have to rectify that this evening.  I’ve been known to “overdo it”, so I guess I was compensating.

 

Watch those carbs.

 

Thanks for stopping by.