Dear Ulster Bank

I’m hoping that by writing this vent, my bank card will magically appear through my letter slot tomorrow morning.

You know – 3 months after I applied to get on the bank account my husband opened with you?

Three months ago, I finally got the right paperwork together to get on the account (after going in the first time with the waste disposal bill, which on your website was considered proof of address but in person at your bank did not qualify, which meant waiting a few more weeks to get officially on a different bill, and going in a second time only to realize I’d left my passport at home and therefore had no valid-to-you proof of identification. Side Note – Irish Government – why issue us a card with name and address and all on it, and then state it can’t be used as an ID?)

Three months ago, I was told it would take a couple weeks to be fully on the account, card in hand.

Three. Months. Ago.

November.

So in January, when I hadn’t heard a darn thing from you, I called the local branch. Only to get routed to the main call line, only to be told they couldn’t help me, I had to talk to the local branch, so they took my information and said I’d hear back from them. A week later, I tried again, got the same run around, and yet again, heard back from no one. So after a few days, we went to the branch itself.

In person, the teller called over someone else, who said “One moment”, went into The Back, came back out and said “You should be on the account in a couple days, and have your card within the week.”

Turns out, my paperwork was held up because someone forgot to sign something somewhere. As neither Josh nor I were asked to sign anything that day, I’m assuming this wasn’t our oversight.

That week, we received a new credit book (which is good for like paying rent, but as that’s directly withdrawn, it’s pointless), with both our names on it. Proof that I was at least on the account.

A week later, no card.

A week later, still no card. Another trip to the branch so I could at least pull cash happened, and I was told that my card should arrive by the end of the week.

That was on a Saturday. Over two weeks ago.

Guess what has yet to appear at my house?

All I want is my debit card. I did everything I was asked to do. I’ve been beyond patient. I just want my debit card, so I can do wild and crazy things like pay bills and buy groceries. It would make our lives much easier if we didn’t have to play “Who has the debit card?”.

And yes, tomorrow, if this crappy cold hasn’t done me in, I will be making yet another trek down to the local branch where I expect to hear “It should be there within the week.” If I should happen to say “I don’t believe you, you damned dirty liars.”, please, understand where I’m coming from.

THREE MONTHS.

grr.

Feb 11 2012

Laundry Day

I found myself in need of doing lots of laundry today. In the States, that would be throwing stuff into the big washer, coming back forty-five minutes later, throwing them into the over-sized dryer, wait another forty-five minutes, then whine a bit about having to fold warm clothes.

I miss those days.

This is my kitchen…

my kitchen

See there…to the left…that little white machine? That my friends is my washer AND my dryer. It fits about half of what my Maytag could fit. It takes almost two hours to wash one load. To use it as a dryer, I have found that the best way to get things dry is to take out half the load, put that half in a basket, then set the dryer setting for an hour for what’s left in there, wait the hour, take out the mostly dry clothes, put in other half, set for another hour…

Needless to say, spending four hours on one load of laundry just doesn’t cut it. So I only use the dryer setting when absolutely necessary.

Instead, I use the drying racks or wash line outside. As it’s not ideal weather for the line outside, I’ve gone with drying racks. And as I have a cubic crapload of laundry to get dry today, I’ve taken over every available surface.

I have laundry here..

kitchen door

…here…

drying rack in bathroom, plus pants slung over shower door rail

…here…

little drying rack that you can hang off your radiator - perfect for socks!

…here…

living room door

…here…

dining chairs and radiator

…here…

Maura decided her duck needed a bath, so he's drying on the front hall radiator too

…and on the five foot seven inch drying rack in the upstairs bathroom…and shower door…

lots of clothes drying!

Hey, you can see one of our electric showers there…ooo…ahh…(It’s the box on the wall in the shower area…note that’s a sheet drying over the shower door…and the shower door doesn’t extend past half the bathtub length…that’s just how it’s done here.)

We won’t discuss what’s drying over the radiators in various bedrooms. That would be unmentionable.

The nice thing is – with this much laundry hanging around, on the radiators, you don’t need any cotton/linen fresh candle or spray. I’ve got it happening naturally!

I would still kill for an extra-large capacity washer/dryer set.

oh, if only it was a sunny day....

Feb 2 2012

One year ago…

A year ago, we were packing up our house to move to Ireland…in the middle of a blizzard. And then flew out…in the middle of a snow storm.

And you wonder why I hear circus music in the background of my life…

It’s been a year since we made this crazy move, and I feel like we’re still adjusting to things and learning the ropes. But I also have learned a lot. Like patience, and taking things in stride, and learning how to build a peat fire (which is currently burning in my fireplace because it’s cold outside!)

For instance – I still don’t get the grading system here. It can go by just one test, or it can be a combination of tests and assignments. Sean’s getting a 52% in English – yet his teacher glowed about him, how well he’s doing, how he’s improved since the Christmas exam and how she expects him to be in all honors classes – including English. Turns out the high grade in the class is a 77%. The low grade? 35%. So Sean’s actually right there safely in the middle.

And as we were still trying to wrap our brains around this, another parent at the teacher conferences stated how he feels that if all the students are getting 90+ percentiles on their tests, that the teacher isn’t doing a good job challenging them, and the work is too easy.

So we’ve told the boys to find out what the other grades are in their classes – because if they get a 70%, and the highest is 77%? Then we’ll say “Wow, great job!” instead of “Oh, you are so grounded from video games, etc.”

In the realm of patience, I am beginning to lose that and possibly all hope in ever getting a bank card. It’s a bit hard to believe I’ve gone a year without my own bank card. That has been made easier by the fact that there is no Target for me to use one at three days a week minimum. But it’s getting really inconvenient.

See, we started out at one bank, which wouldn’t allow me on my husband’s account without proof of residence – like my name on a bill. You know, to make sure I wasn’t his young, hot mistress or something like that. But then Josh decided “Well, we were considering switching banks anyway…” So he switched, got the account open, I brought in a bill that had my name on it – only to find out that the waste collection bill? Didn’t count. Despite what their website said.

sigh.

So I eventually got on the cable/internet account, but then had to wait on that bill. Eventually, I got around to dropping it all off. That was November. I was told 3-5 days, but give it up to two weeks. Fine. I waited. And waited. And waited. Then I called. I was told they’d call me back. So I waited. Then called again. Was told again that they’d call back. So waited. Finally I went into the bank, explained the situation. The man went into The Back, came back out and said “Two days.” Huh?

Turns out someone forgot to sign something on the form – obviously not Josh or me, as we weren’t asked to sign anything. So it was another “Two days….but if you haven’t heard anything in a week, come back.”

Two weeks later? I’m on the account, I’ve got a “credit book” which is some sort of convoluted check book that makes no sense to my American eyes…and still no bleeping bank card.

On the flipside – we’ve had nothing but good luck with the health care field. We’ve gotten appointments quickly, no real wait times except the EEG (which was just a standard check and not an emergency), the doctors have all been great, the pharmacists in this country are fabulous, the dental group we see has made Miriam like dentists again, so really? I can deal with the backwards banking system as long as my kids are kept healthy.

Yes there are things I miss – I miss wide American roads and parking spaces. I miss our big washer and dryer. And yes, every so often, I wish I could go to Target, get a big red cart, and fill that sucker up without a second thought to “Do we need this?” and “Do we have anyplace to put this?” But I still get a kick out of kids in school uniforms, and looking out at the Dublin mountains, and am still contemplating getting a Vespa. With a side car. How fun would the girls and I have in that?

I still don’t know how long we’ll be here. Sometimes, I can’t imagine leaving. Other times, I’m homesick enough that I’d deal with the snow and cold to be able to sit in the coffee shop with my friends again. Two weeks ago, we still didn’t have a secondary school lined up for Miriam for fall of 2013 and my plan was “Well, I guess we can always go home before then.” This week? Mim was accepted to a secondary school, so we don’t have to worry about that anymore. Which probably guarantees we’ll move back to the U.S. the summer of 2013.

This past year, we’ve spent so much time settling in, learning the ropes, learning how to live in Ireland. This year though, we’re planning on doing more traveling. Get off this island and see more of what’s out there. Which should be interesting. Maybe we’ll go to Spain and test Sean’s knowledge (he’s actually the top student in his class – Josh peeked at the other grades.)

And maybe, I’ll finally stumble into Bono. Because I refuse to leave Ireland without my own personal Bono story.

Flashback - kids at airport - February 2011

Jan 24 2012

The pancakes are back!

When I ran to the grocery store tonight, I walked in and there, on a display rack, were packaged pancakes.

Why yes, it’s time to start getting ready for Pancake Tuesday!

And all the Americans just said “Huh?”

Last February, when we arrived in Dublin and everything was still fresh and new and odd, we noticed right away that there were displays of packaged pancakes at the grocery store. We weren’t sure why they sold “large American style pancakes” all packaged up, but we giggled over the name, bought some chocolate chip ones, and went back for more.

Then one day, while getting another package and still giggling over the “Large American” moniker, a woman next to me asked “Oh, is Pancake Tuesday this week?”

I told her honestly that I had no idea what Pancake Tuesday was. She explained it was the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent. I said “Oh, we call it Fat Tuesday.”

Sure enough, after Ash Wednesday, the pancakes pretty much disappeared from the shelves. And we were a little sad.

I’ve known that the one year mark of our move was coming up. While in a way, it feels like we’ve been here forever, it also is surprising that it’s almost a full year. The sight of those pancakes were a reminder that it has been a year since we packed up life and moved it all. I’m still trying to figure things out. I just got a library card today. But at least I know why the shelves are full of pancakes at this time of year.

Jan 13 2012

I used to be a good driver…

…and then I moved here.

I drive a “big” car, by Irish standards – a Chrysler Voyager mini-van. It’s actually a lot smaller than the Chevy Suburban I’d whip around in with ease back in the States. The difference is that in the U.S., there are wide roads and big parking spaces and not as many signs everywhere.

Unlike here.

Here, there are signs and lines and yellow boxes and three lights for the four northbound lanes. And the four lanes, well, one is the bus/taxi lane, two are for going straight, one is right turn (or as I call it “our idea of a left turn”.) You can come up to a light with two sets of lights facing you – one red (for the turn lane) and a green arrow for those going straight. The lane you’re in can then veer off towards the left as you go through the intersection. The best is the one near our house, where there are three lanes going one way, one lane going the other. You really have to pay attention when you make the right turn. Especially as it’s by all the shopping, so people are darting across the road.

All while driving on the not right side of the road, with your mirrors adjusted weirdly, and guys on motorcycles weaving around jaywalkers and old ladies with shopping trolleys, carting home their milk and eggs and bread.

Are you confused yet? That’s grand. Now you know how I feel driving.

But I am getting used to it, which means of course, I have to screw up. Today, I stalled out the van not once, but twice.

Oh, did I mention our mini van is a stick shift?

No?

Yeah, it’s a stick shift. Which I stalled out twice today because my brain decided to pause for a moment as I tried to figure out which way to go.

The best part though was this weird side road along the N11 (a highway of sorts that cuts through town.) First, I had to figure out if the road I was turning on was a one way. I decided to risk it. Luckily, it wasn’t. But then, there was a light before getting on the N11. But at the light was space for many one car…and then a big yellow box.

yellow box junction

So these big yellow boxes on the road are off limits if you can’t clear it. You have to wait, leaving it open so traffic turning into your lane can easily scoot in. You’re not allowed to be in it and stopped.

So there I am, at this strange intersection, huge yellow box in front of me, and a light after that.

I wasn’t sure what to do.

So I wanted a moment. Then two. Wondered if the light would change. It didn’t. Then a truck pulled up behind me. I’m still waiting, wondering if maybe I should pull forward.

Then I notice the truck driver getting out of his vehicle.

Crap.

I wasn’t scared – I just knew that somehow, I was being a dufus about whatever rule there was for this junction. I rolled down the window, and the truck driver very nicely pointed out that I needed to pull up past the box, because the light was on a sensor.

Four thousand other road signs and symbols on the road telling you what to do, and they couldn’t clue a driver in on this one?

I thanked him, and was thankful for having a foreign accent to explain my ignorance. He smiled and hurried back to his truck as I drove through the box junction. Sure enough, as I pulled up to the light, it turned green.

I glanced in my rear-view mirror…and saw a huge line of cars that had been waiting for me to move.

oops. my bad. sorry.

sigh.

I swear, I used to be a good driver.

Even worse…I found myself lusting after a Smart car, as it whipped down the narrow side street with ease.

I have no clue who I am anymore.

Jan 10 2012

Riddle me this…

We’ve been in Ireland almost a full year, yet there is one thing that still hasn’t made sense to me.

The electric shower.

“What is an electric shower?” you ask. Why, it’s a box on the wall of the shower, that you turn on and it heats up the water instantaneously as you shower.

It’s actually a cool concept. Having an electric shower means you never run out of hot water. Having two electric showers in your house means that two people can be in two separate showers, having their shower as hot as they like.

In a family of six, this is really quite a handy thing. Just turn on the power to the box (which in our house is a string hanging down from a box on the ceiling), then turn on the shower in the stall, and set the temperature to what you’d like. Miriam can shower upstairs while I hose Maura off downstairs.

It sounds like I like them, so why the confusion over them?

Well…this is where I get lost…

They have boxes, run by electricity, inside your shower. Where you are showering, with water spraying everywhere around it.

But the light switches for our bathrooms? Are outside of the bathroom. And bathrooms do not have power outlets for the most part. Some newer ones I’ve been in have special outlets for electric razors, which do you no good when you’re standing there with dripping hair and no where to plug in your hair dryer. I’m guessing this is all done for safety purposes, so you don’t accidentally electrocute yourself while turning on the light or whatnot.

So if you’re still following along - no outlet, no light switch inside the bathroom.

And yet there are electric showers.

After almost a year, it still doesn’t make any sense to my American brain.

Jan 8 2012

Random shots of Sunday

It's January, yet things are beginning to bud

rocks on Killiney beach

abandoned building on Killiney beach

Zoey puppy

Boy on Rock

Searching for sea life

Puppy on Rock

along the Dublin Bay

Dublin Bay

Jan 1 2012

Sunday Afternoon in the Dublin Hills

We try to take advantage of any good weather by dragging children outside and forcing nature upon them. Now that we have an active puppy that needs to burn energy, we have yet another reason to force kids outdoors.

Today, we hit the Dublin Mountains again. They’re not that far – we actually have a view of them from our window. Of course, down here at the bottom of the mountain, it was breezy but nice. However, once we braved the very narrow winding road up the mountain and squeezed into the car park and got out, we realized that it gets windier the higher you go. Fourteen paces into our hike, Miriam was already complaining that her head was cold, so I allowed her to swipe Maura’s hat, as Maura had a hood.

At the beginning of the trail, we took the mandatory “four kids” photo – and a rare thing happened. I caught Collin smiling in one.

Maura, Sean, Collin (smiling!) and Mim

After annoying them with picture taking, we moved on and I wandered off the path a little to check out the little forts built in the woods.

Then we made our way up to the top of the mountain (which wasn’t too far, as we drove up half of it.) We met a group on their way down, all of whom stopped to say “Be careful! It’s very windy up there!” and “Hold onto your hats, it’s windy up there!”

They weren’t exaggerating. It was wickedly windy up on top. Miriam was certain she’d get blown off. But I made them gather up for another photo.

Obligatory mountain top pose

Note Collin's smile? It's because we joked about Mim getting blown over the edge. As you can tell, Mim doesn't think it's funny.

The Irish Sea in the distance - or as Maura said - "Beach!"

The other side of the mountain - yes, Ireland really does look like all the pictures you see

After picture taking, we went back down, to get out of the wind, hiked about a bit, nearly lost the three older ones who we sent into the woods to take photos of anything interesting they saw.

apparently mushrooms are interesting

But they made it out and we made it back to the car park before they locked it up at 4 pm. And we headed home for dinner.

Oh, and I took a picture of the puppy – because she stood still long enough to get a picture of her -

Cute puppy

Dec 30 2011

How we spent our Friday afternoon

Today, after an hour of trying to keep Maura and the puppy from annoying each other (Maura was annoyed because the puppy kept trying to gnaw on her stuff, the puppy because Maura kept taking the lovely chewable stuff away), I decided both needed to go on a walk.

So we packed up girls and puppy, abandoning the boys at home to work on their X-Box pallor (actually, they’d been out earlier with their father) and headed to a beach.

Beaches in Ireland, from what we’ve seen, tend to be small, more rocky than sandy, and full of people strolling, half of them with dogs running amok. We’ve been here long enough for me to have a favorite “local” beach – Killiney Beach. It’s somewhat sandy, somewhat rocky, and long enough that I haven’t managed to stroll the entire length of it yet.

Okay, it’s not that long – I could stroll the course of it easily. But I can’t because…

…girls are too busy building sand castles

girls working together

…and like a good mom, I have to take a picture of the hard work…

note the artistic wave crashing behind sand creation

…and while they’re doing that, I’m searching for sea glass and pretty stones. Today was an exceptionally good day for sea glass…

See? Glass!

And when we weren’t dawdling building sand creations, looking for sea glass, or being chased by waves (amazingly, no one was caught), we stopped to explain our puppy to passersby. I guess Zoey’s coloring is quite unusual in Ireland. But it works for her – she loves all the petting and praise.

Not being petted or praised at that moment

Eventually, we head home via the grocery store (because we’re always in need of food.) And puppy was nice and tired and stopped chewing on everything. Which was part of the goal.

what happens when you mix a tired puppy with an 11 year old girl

Dec 14 2011

The One with all the Christmas prep

(what can I say? I’ve been watching a lot of “Friends” reruns lately, and Mim asked “Why are they all called “The One With…” – um, cause they are? And it’s easy? I think I’ll try that!)

(second side note – watching “Friends” reruns makes me realize that I am slowly morphing into Phoebe Buffet. You’ve been warned.)

So, tis the Christmas season. I have kids. This means I must do Christmassy stuff, or feel the guilt only moms can feel. Luckily, I like Christmas, and while reorganizing the storage room in the fall, I put the Christmas boxes within easy reach.

We did run into a problem right away – we couldn’t figure out where to put a Christmas tree (we left our fake tree in Michigan, as it was fab, but hard to store even with a big basement.) We planned on getting a real tree this year, only to realize that we had no place to put a tree. Our living/dining room area only has two outlets – one near the front window by the dining table, and one in the back corner, behind a bookcase. We then thought “Well, maybe if we move the side table with the printer, we can get a skinny fake tree and fit it there…” Only to discover fake trees that look decent are really expensive!

At this point, I began to regret also leaving behind my skinny fake potted tree just because it was pre-lit….

But then one day, Josh and I were at the grocery store and another couple strolled by with a small potted evergreen tree in their cart. We eyed it, then started scouring the store for where they were at. There were three left – one that was nice and fully but crooked. Really crooked. One was a Charlie Brown tree. So we went with the third.

Now, Miriam had requested a BIG tree. But Josh knows how to sell it. We walked in with this tree and she said “Oh it’s a little Christmas tree!”

Josh said “YES! Isn’t it CUTE?”

Mim fell for it. ”I LOVE IT!”

It has worked out, as it just fits all our ornaments that are special to us, and it’s up and out of the way so the puppy doesn’t gnaw or pee on it.

Now we have to figure out where to hang stockings. I don’t want to put a bunch of nails in the nice wood of the fireplace mantel that we don’t own. Not to mention, we use the fireplace and I don’t want to set a stocking on fire.

Meanwhile, I still have Christmas shopping to do. I live near the largest shopping centre in all of Ireland…and I’m avoiding it like the plague. We’re planning on a low key Christmas gift-wise, and luckily, the kids are cooperating by not giving us huge lists (a first!) Heck, we asked Sean what he’d like, and even he doesn’t know what he wants. Collin’s getting a good umbrella as a gag gift (he is not thrilled by Irish rain.)

Otherwise, we have Christmas parties and concerts and cinema trips and circuses and Santa grottos and all sorts of other things to deal with (again, we lucked out as these are all happening through the schools. phew!)

But the puppy needs to go out. I’m so glad we got a puppy the coldest week in Ireland that we’ve experienced so far!