Our furniture arrived six weeks ago tomorrow. Six weeks is psychologically important to me because it is the length of time I give myself in any move to have the house straightened. This includes hanging curtains, pictures and getting rid of all the packing boxes. My mantra is that if it isn’t done within this six week period, then it won’t get done at all. Boxes left unpacked will never be unpacked until they reappear in the next location.
The key reason for this is that we never know how long we are going to be in any given location. In 23 years of marriage, we have moved house 13 times. The shortest was Israel ( 2 months ) the longest the United States, ( 4 years in the same house).
So this week I have had two men in the house most days, hanging pictures and curtain poles. They are the men that work in the development and by day, they keep the communal areas meticulously clean, do all the gardens and take care of the swimming pools. At the end of the day, they freelance, so in my case it is hanging about 150 pictures and changing light bulbs (there is probably a whole blog on light bulbs to come in case you were wondering what the big deal is on changing light bulbs).
Now it is the weekend and rather than have the two handymen come back, Steve wants to finish off. As he sees it, having him contribute in some manner is an essential part of the home making process – over a few drinks the other night we decided it must be “man nesting”.
Man nesting very categorically involves power tools, testosterone and the oldest pair of jeans in the wardrobe. In Steve’s case it also means announcing to the family that this weekend is when he will be Mr. D.I.Y. and in honor of the event he isn’t going to shave. More manliness.
He used to be in the Royal Navy and an everlasting trait is that everything has to have a place. In particular, the bathroom. Towel rails have to be hung in just the right place and he wasn’t prepared to leave that very important task to the gardeners. So as I type this, my side of the bathroom is littered with rawl plugs, spirit levels and all manner of power tools as the original hooks and towel rails get taken down and replaced with more appropriate hardware in more appropriate places.
Steve doesn’t do much in the way of D.I.Y. but when he does, it is methodically planned and generally very well executed. He really does have the “measure twice/cut once” mentality – I guess from having got it wrong in the past. He is also a great believer that if you are going to do anything, then having the right equipment is absolutely essential. More power tools and another trip to hardware store are in order.
Trying to translate “spackle” (poly-filler for the Brits) was interesting but we found it in the end.
But as it is when men barbeque, they have to have an assistant to hand them everything the minute it is needed. That assistant of course is me. Actually Steve isn’t too bad and the big plus is that he does actually clear up after himself. Probably because he doesn’t trust me to put said power tools away in the right place.
So by this afternoon we should be finished. At this stage I would usually have the housewarming party all planned as well, but a lot of people are away in July and August to avoid the “freezing” Sao Paulo winter (the locals are complaining of the cold but it is mid winter’s day tomorrow and the temperature is 28 degrees Celsius/82 degrees Fahrenheit) so we are now looking at having a party in September. The advantage of that is that we will have met more people to invite, and maybe it will be cool enough to actually use the fireplace – something we must do since I managed to find some very nice firewood and even pre-cut kindling (which Steve was a bit disappointed by since he now has no excuse to get his axe out).
Today is Father’s Day in the United States. I think a day of testosterone fueled man nesting is the perfect way to spend it. Oh, and watching Brazil play the Ivory Coast in the World Cup. The only thing missing is a Vuvuzela.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Reality check 3. Monday June 14, 2010
On Friday of last week, Charles had an experience that again reminds us of the reality of life in Brazil and why we have Marcelo to look after us.
Emma and I had just arrived back from the United States, and, with a mountain of laundry ahead of me after 2 weeks of being away, plus the general chaos of returning home, there was no way I was going anywhere that day. Of course Tessie the Fox Terrier didn’t understand that I wasn’t going to be walking her and with Emma feigning exhaustion it was left to Charles to take her to the park.
We have a choice of three parks, depending upon the amount of time we have to walk her. We have the nearest park, “Severo Gomes” which is the smallest and we can be there and back in about an hour. Parque de Povo is bigger and further away and takes about an hour and a half, but our favourite is Parque Ibirapuera which is great if we have a couple of hours to spare.
The park of choice last Friday was Severo Gomes. It is the one that I have blogged about before where, on any given morning there are keep fit classes, Tai Chi instruction and all manner of people stretching and contorting their bodies into odd shapes.
It was about three o’clock in the afternoon when Charles and Marcelo arrived. Unbeknown to Charles, Marcelo had been watching a couple of motorcyclists in the rear view mirror. He was concerned that they had been following the car for a while.
Now, it has to be said that Marcelo is always concerned when he sees motorcyclists either in obvious pairs or two people on the same bike. Opportunistic robbers it seems, always hunt in packs. One is there to distract, whilst the other does the actual robbery, or one is driving and the other grabs whatever they can.
On this occasion, there were two bikes tailing the car. When they arrived at the park, Marcelo made Charles wait in the car for several minutes whilst he watched what they were up to. It seems that they too had stopped, presumably waiting to see who or what would get out of the car.
Eventually, Charles was let out of the car and Marcelo followed him into the park. At this point, Marcelo was obviously feeling very uncomfortable with the situation and un-holstered his gun. I have never seen him do this before, he normally just casually opens his jacket so that everyone can see that he is carrying a weapon, but something that day must have given him greater cause for concern and he decided that just showing that he was carrying wasn’t enough.
He then called Charles back and started talking to him. Quite what was said is not known. Not least because Charles has no Portuguese and Marcelo no English. But it was enough for the two motorcyclists to see that Charles was most definitely there with Marcelo and I gather that at that point, they turned their bikes around and headed off.
Marcelo 2, robbers 0.
Charles was then able to head off on his walk around the park. Marcelo got back in the car and started “curb crawling” on the road that surrounds the park, following Charles at about 3 miles an hour.
Later that evening, Steve had a call from head office in the United States. Marcelo must have filed a report, presumably because he un-holstered his gun and only then did we realize the significance of what had happened. Charles, although aware that the gun had come out, did not appreciate the potential seriousness of the incident and I am sure in his teenage way, thought it was “cool”.
Time to find a different park methinks.
Emma and I had just arrived back from the United States, and, with a mountain of laundry ahead of me after 2 weeks of being away, plus the general chaos of returning home, there was no way I was going anywhere that day. Of course Tessie the Fox Terrier didn’t understand that I wasn’t going to be walking her and with Emma feigning exhaustion it was left to Charles to take her to the park.
We have a choice of three parks, depending upon the amount of time we have to walk her. We have the nearest park, “Severo Gomes” which is the smallest and we can be there and back in about an hour. Parque de Povo is bigger and further away and takes about an hour and a half, but our favourite is Parque Ibirapuera which is great if we have a couple of hours to spare.
The park of choice last Friday was Severo Gomes. It is the one that I have blogged about before where, on any given morning there are keep fit classes, Tai Chi instruction and all manner of people stretching and contorting their bodies into odd shapes.
It was about three o’clock in the afternoon when Charles and Marcelo arrived. Unbeknown to Charles, Marcelo had been watching a couple of motorcyclists in the rear view mirror. He was concerned that they had been following the car for a while.
Now, it has to be said that Marcelo is always concerned when he sees motorcyclists either in obvious pairs or two people on the same bike. Opportunistic robbers it seems, always hunt in packs. One is there to distract, whilst the other does the actual robbery, or one is driving and the other grabs whatever they can.
On this occasion, there were two bikes tailing the car. When they arrived at the park, Marcelo made Charles wait in the car for several minutes whilst he watched what they were up to. It seems that they too had stopped, presumably waiting to see who or what would get out of the car.
Eventually, Charles was let out of the car and Marcelo followed him into the park. At this point, Marcelo was obviously feeling very uncomfortable with the situation and un-holstered his gun. I have never seen him do this before, he normally just casually opens his jacket so that everyone can see that he is carrying a weapon, but something that day must have given him greater cause for concern and he decided that just showing that he was carrying wasn’t enough.
He then called Charles back and started talking to him. Quite what was said is not known. Not least because Charles has no Portuguese and Marcelo no English. But it was enough for the two motorcyclists to see that Charles was most definitely there with Marcelo and I gather that at that point, they turned their bikes around and headed off.
Marcelo 2, robbers 0.
Charles was then able to head off on his walk around the park. Marcelo got back in the car and started “curb crawling” on the road that surrounds the park, following Charles at about 3 miles an hour.
Later that evening, Steve had a call from head office in the United States. Marcelo must have filed a report, presumably because he un-holstered his gun and only then did we realize the significance of what had happened. Charles, although aware that the gun had come out, did not appreciate the potential seriousness of the incident and I am sure in his teenage way, thought it was “cool”.
Time to find a different park methinks.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Graduation.Saturday June 5,2010
Today I blubbed. And then I blubbed a bit more. It was our son’s graduation from The Pennington School, his prep school in New Jersey that he has been to since we came back to the United States in 2004.
This, in itself is quite a feat. In all our travels around the world we have never managed to stay in one place more than 18 months, (with the exception of the Philippines where we stayed a little over 2 years). The shortest stay was in Israel where Steve was based for 6 months and the children and I were there for the summer holidays.
You may wonder then how we managed to stay in the United States for 5 years before we left for Brazil. The answer is simple. Steve had three different positions each a little over a year and a half. Added to that, when an overseas job came up, he didn’t push for his name to be put forward as the timing would have been horrible for the children’s education.
And so it has been that Charles has been at The Pennington School since we came back in 2004. We were very lucky that he was accepted because we only knew that we were leaving France in the middle of August, which didn’t give us a huge amount of time to get schools sorted. We came for a flying visit in the third week of August to try and sort out a school for him. This is where a big company like BMS can really help. We were given the help of an agent who, from what I can gather has the most amazing connections with the admissions directors of the local private schools and within the space of 24 hours had arranged interviews with four of them.
We stepped off the plane that August of 2004 and made Charles sit his SSAT exams the following day. Then there was a round of interviews over the course of the next two days and miraculously, Charles was accepted at Pennington. Now it has to be said, that Pennington was always top of the list and it has turned out to be the most perfect place for him. Thank you to everyone involved in the admissions process and to the family that had turned down a place, making it possible for Charles to attend.
Six years, and tens of thousands of dollars later Charles graduated Magna Cum Laude. To us Brits, this whole graduation thing is rather strange as we have nothing like it in the UK. Graduation there normally consists of a final end of year assembly, with the obvious parting words from the head master.
In the United States it is a major event. On Friday night there was a Senior/Parent dinner, followed by dancing. There were various mini performances by the students and the school band played. It was a great time to catch up with the other parents that have shared this journey with us. The comments were all along the lines “how did it go so fast?”, and “where is your son/daughter going to college?” We laughed and generally had a good time.
And so to today. The weather was hot and the seats had been set up under the trees. There was a lovely breeze and the Class of 2010 came in, in gowns and mortar boards behind their teachers, trustees and faculty members, serenaded by an Irish pipe band. There were numerous speeches, songs by the “Senior Chorus” and then came the Salutatory Address and the Valedictory Address. All of which was moving and heartfelt. There were prizes given for all manner of things. I was thrilled when Charles won the “Pennington School Award to the Senior Excelling in History.” Even better, the prize was “The Lion and the Unicorn – Gladstone versus Disraeli – how perfect.
Then came the actual Graduation part. Every student was called up individually to receive his or her diploma. With a hundred or so students it was quite a sight. There is also a quaint tradition that where a student has a close relative that has graduated from Pennington or faculty member as a parent, then their diploma is given by that person and not the head of school. There was much hugging and I have to say that the outpouring of goodwill and happiness today was quite a sight to see.
My British “stiff upper lip” was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
This, in itself is quite a feat. In all our travels around the world we have never managed to stay in one place more than 18 months, (with the exception of the Philippines where we stayed a little over 2 years). The shortest stay was in Israel where Steve was based for 6 months and the children and I were there for the summer holidays.
You may wonder then how we managed to stay in the United States for 5 years before we left for Brazil. The answer is simple. Steve had three different positions each a little over a year and a half. Added to that, when an overseas job came up, he didn’t push for his name to be put forward as the timing would have been horrible for the children’s education.
And so it has been that Charles has been at The Pennington School since we came back in 2004. We were very lucky that he was accepted because we only knew that we were leaving France in the middle of August, which didn’t give us a huge amount of time to get schools sorted. We came for a flying visit in the third week of August to try and sort out a school for him. This is where a big company like BMS can really help. We were given the help of an agent who, from what I can gather has the most amazing connections with the admissions directors of the local private schools and within the space of 24 hours had arranged interviews with four of them.
We stepped off the plane that August of 2004 and made Charles sit his SSAT exams the following day. Then there was a round of interviews over the course of the next two days and miraculously, Charles was accepted at Pennington. Now it has to be said, that Pennington was always top of the list and it has turned out to be the most perfect place for him. Thank you to everyone involved in the admissions process and to the family that had turned down a place, making it possible for Charles to attend.
Six years, and tens of thousands of dollars later Charles graduated Magna Cum Laude. To us Brits, this whole graduation thing is rather strange as we have nothing like it in the UK. Graduation there normally consists of a final end of year assembly, with the obvious parting words from the head master.
In the United States it is a major event. On Friday night there was a Senior/Parent dinner, followed by dancing. There were various mini performances by the students and the school band played. It was a great time to catch up with the other parents that have shared this journey with us. The comments were all along the lines “how did it go so fast?”, and “where is your son/daughter going to college?” We laughed and generally had a good time.
And so to today. The weather was hot and the seats had been set up under the trees. There was a lovely breeze and the Class of 2010 came in, in gowns and mortar boards behind their teachers, trustees and faculty members, serenaded by an Irish pipe band. There were numerous speeches, songs by the “Senior Chorus” and then came the Salutatory Address and the Valedictory Address. All of which was moving and heartfelt. There were prizes given for all manner of things. I was thrilled when Charles won the “Pennington School Award to the Senior Excelling in History.” Even better, the prize was “The Lion and the Unicorn – Gladstone versus Disraeli – how perfect.
Then came the actual Graduation part. Every student was called up individually to receive his or her diploma. With a hundred or so students it was quite a sight. There is also a quaint tradition that where a student has a close relative that has graduated from Pennington or faculty member as a parent, then their diploma is given by that person and not the head of school. There was much hugging and I have to say that the outpouring of goodwill and happiness today was quite a sight to see.
My British “stiff upper lip” was nowhere in sight. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.
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