Street signs are nice. No. Really. They’re a good thing. As are house numbers and addresses in general. I’ll still love you without these things, but at the same time, change can be good.
The woman who didn’t realize she was on Tara Street yesterday when she called her husband to find out where Tara Street was
Somehow, it’s only Wednesday. This is turning into the longest week ever. I’m going to blame the wind. It’s been amazingly windy here the past few days, though we shouldn’t complain. At least it’s just wind and not tornadoes. But there was one moment where I grabbed Maura before she was nearly blown over.
But despite non-ideal weather conditions, we have been heading out our doors every day. Sure, this meant getting wet and teaching Collin the skill of getting a blown out umbrella back into it’s proper shape (a skill I honed growing up in Chicago), but hey, it’ll be a life skill here, the boy needs to learn. And no one will melt from a little rain…though I am beginning to get tired of Miriam only packing her rain coat on days it doesn’t rain, and coming home wet on days it does.
Maura and I received our Luas smart cards yesterday, which we were both tickled by. Her because her card is cute and yellow and she thinks mail is fun. Me because now we won’t have to scramble for cash to go somewhere, or watch the train go by as I’m buying tickets. How they work? You “top up” your card with cash, tag on at the little machine before you get on the train, and then off as you leave the train. I learned instantly that Maura’s not to be trusted too much as she tried to tag on repeatedly. I have come a long way from my Chicago commuter days and my ten-ride passes.
This week’s plan was to get the kids PPS numbers (which are basically Irish social security numbers.) Josh and I got ours the first week here, but we didn’t realize the kids needed them. It’s especially important for Maura, because with it, I can then sign her up for some disability things – like prescription coverage. And as we got through a bottle of seizure medication every three weeks, it’s sort of needed. Though go figure – the same bottle of seizure meds here costs less than in the states, even with the money conversion. Here, they also have a cap as to how much you pay out of pocket for meds as a family. Anything over 120 Euros will be reimbursed.
However, I have so far been thwarted in my attempts. On Monday, it was in the forms of barricades due to a presidential visit. Yesterday, we tried again. Despite lack of street signs and my loss of any direction once I hit City Centre, I managed to find the office…only to see the notice on the door that PPS allotments were now at a different location further away.
So instead, Maura and I picnicked in St. Stephen’s Green…well, until someone behind us started feeding the pigeons. It got a bit Alfred Hitchcock-ish, herds of pigeons staring me down and following Maura about as she ate a cookie (though Maura had no problem kicking at them to shoo them away.)
Today we’re staying at home. Even though Maura has dressed for and requested a trip to the beach. Sunglasses, sparkly sandals and all. It’s not really a good day for the beach.
And looks like tomorrow will be another train-riding, hike through City Centre day – the neurologist we’re hoping to see just had a cancellation, so tomorrow we go meet a new doctor. Must gather up appropriate records and plot that course.