Manic Monday

We were told about a week and a half ago that our possessions (which are being shipped via air freight) would be in Dublin on August 21 or 22, and that we'd probably get them on August 29 or 30 (after Customs was done pawing through everything).

This past Monday, I reached out to the Irish moving coordinator for an update.  She said that our stuff still wasn't in Ireland, that personal goods can get bumped from a flight if perishable goods need to get transported.

Both Eli and I were quite upset about this development.  Neither of us have ever had an international move so perhaps this indeed is the norm, but as I said to him, "If our stuff can get bumped indefinitely, why the fuck did we pay extra for air freight, thinking that would be faster???"

Come Tuesday morning, I was still pretty distraught after having ruminated about the situation the previous day.  I started to hate everything about being here.  I had the thought "I want to go home!" which was quickly followed by the feeling of not really having a home to return to.

I lay down in bed and just cried like my heart was breaking.  I just kept thinking, "I want to go home, I want to go home."  Everything felt very bleak and hopeless and dark.

After a while, I said to myself, "Okay, that's enough."  So I got out of bed, had second breakfast (yes, I am a hobbit), went to Tesco (and set off the alarm), and otherwise went about my day.

We got an email from the relocation/moving coordinator later in the day that some of our stuff was at an airport in England and waiting for a flight to Dublin.  Since then, two-thirds of our shipment has reached Dublin; apparently, they broke our belongings up into three shipments and there wasn't room for everything on one flight so one-third is still floating around somewhere.

Once everything has arrived in Dublin, the Customs process can start.  Hopefully this means we'll have our things in a week or so.  I am keeping my fingers crossed that everything will be undamaged and nothing will be missing.

Wilderness of Books

"I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library.”  (Jorge Luis Borges)

I registered to get a library card today.  I can't tell you how unbelievably excited I am about this!

Libraries have always felt like home to me.  I have always found peace and sanctuary and belonging when I've been in one.  Wandering through the stacks in this "wilderness of books" (Thoreau's description of a library), I feel a sense of unbridled glee and awe.

And to be honest, I sometimes have a sense of overwhelm and near panic.  There's a scene in the show "Two and a Half Men" where one of the characters is at a bookstore, and he starts to have a meltdown because there are so many books and he'll never be able to read them all.

Yup.  Been there, done that (except for having an outward meltdown - my library meltdowns are all quietly inward because, you know - shhhhh, you're at the library).

We're planning to visit the library on Saturday - as part of the registration process, you need to provide a photo ID and proof of address.

However, they have already provided me with a temporary code so I COULD start reserving books "straight away."  😸 

And speaking of books, I will leave you with one of my favorite quasi-book-related videos:  the yip yip martians having to use their Earth book to figure out what a telephone is.

Sesame Street: The Martians Discover a Telephone (youtube.com)

Grey Day in Bray

Eli went to the seaside town of Bray yesterday.  I wasn't feeling well and didn't go, but considering it's about a 15-minute bus ride to get there, I'm sure I'll see it soon.

Here are a few photos he took:

One Small Step

I was determined to venture out on my own yesterday, so I decided to take the train to the small grocery store located in a sister building one stop up the line.

Before I left the apartment, I made sure I had my key fob, oh, like a bazillion times.  I don't know where I thought it would go after each check - if I thought it would jump out of my purse and run off or what.  I apparently have a touch of OCD because I have always done this - check multiple times to ensure I have my ticket/keys/wallet before heading out the door.

I managed to get turned around trying to find my way out of the building but eventually, I just went down to the ground floor and found the exit we've been using.

Tapped the reader with my transport card (called a Leap card) and got aboard the train.  We're the last stop on the line, which is great because the train is typically empty or near to empty when we board.

There was a group of young people in the seats behind me, rattling on about this and that.  It amuses me when Irish-accented folks cuss the "big one" because it comes out "fook."  😀

After a trip of about a minute, I jumped off and tapped the reader again to tag out.  That's something I've had to drive into my brain - the need to tag on and off when you take the train.  With the bus, you simply swipe your card once and let the driver know where you're going but you don't have to swipe it when you get off.

I wandered around the store for a while, still not feeling comfortable.  I'll be so glad when all of this seems like second nature, but I know that's going to take time and practice.

Bagged up all of my purchases and walked across the street to the train stop.  It was a grey, breezy day and a little chilly, but being from Minnesota, I appreciated the coolness in August.  I chuckled a little to myself because there was a mother and young child at the stop, and he had on a heavier coat and stocking cap while I'm sitting there in short sleeves.

Got back to the apartment (and yes, I still had my key fob - and it worked) and put my groceries away and felt proud that I had taken this small step.  I still felt jangly and uneasy but, as I said earlier, I know that feeling will pass at some point.

Snags in the Stream

I've learned that life is one crushing defeat after another until you just wish Flanders was dead.  (Homer Simpson)

Before we left Minnesota, I wrote out some affirmations regarding the move and one of them said something like, "What if this move goes more smoothly than I could possibly imagine?"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Oh, you poor sweet summer child.

About the only thing that's gone smoothly during any of this is that the plane didn't crash.  Which was quite important, to be sure, but the Universe is certainly making us pay for it now.

We needed an Ireland phone number to be able to sign up for some programs, so we got new SIM cards for our cell phones this past weekend.  Some of our accounts (Bank of America credit card, etc.) only allow you to enter a US phone number so when they need to send a verification code to my phone, they send it to my US cell phone number.  Not helpful.

Eli's company now uses Remote Desktop (HHS peeps, I'm sure you can commiserate with him since that program is crap), and they've gone to multi factor identification.  So when he tried to log in for work yesterday, it wanted to send a code to his US phone number.  When he tried to get in to change the phone number to his Ireland number....it wanted to send a code to his US phone number.  He finally wound up contacting IT and they were able to help.

They don't sell Patrick's preferred wet food here - can't even get it via Amazon UK - so we've been struggling trying to find a wet food he'll eat.

We're having the worst time trying to get a bank to respond to our requests to open a new account here.

I saw an article today in TIME magazine that millions of Social Security Numbers got hacked, and there was a site you could visit to see if your number were on the list.  Yup, both my SSN and Eli's were on the list, so that's wonderful news.

I'm sure there are more examples but my brain isn't coughing them up at the moment.

I will be grateful when we can get all of our accounts transferred here and stop having to deal with these snags.

Did You Know....

 ....that clothes dryers can have a water tank?

Our dryer here is very basic - has a dial to set the time and a button you press if you want either high heat or low heat.

I put a small load of towels in and after 80 minutes on high heat, they were still pretty wet.  There's one LED light on the entire panel, and I noticed it was lit.

Off to Google to track down a user manual so I could figure out what the light was telling me.

Y'all, this thing has a water tank that's about two feet long - and it was full.  Apparently in the US, we had a vented tumble dryer which didn't have or need a tank, so I wasn't even aware that this water thing could be a possibility.

Emptied the tank and put the timer on for another 80 minutes.  The light went off and this time, the towels dried.

Another note to self:  Remember to empty the water tank when you clean out the lint trap after every load.

St Stephen's Green Photos

 

Photos Eli took at St Stephen's Green

Easy Like Sunday Morning

 **Note to self:  Don't do bus-involved errands on Sundays**

We went to Tesco this morning for groceries.  There's no train stop near the store, so this errand is always via bus.

Our departure stop is right around the corner from our apartment.  Eli was looking at the timetables, and he said, "The next bus is due at 9:40."  It was 9:35.  So we hoofed it out the door and happily arrived before the bus did.

We did our shopping and lugged everything to a stop near the store and waited.  And waited.  And waited.

Did you ever see the episode of "SpongeBob SquarePants" where he accidentally winds up in Rock Bottom and spends the entire show trying to catch a bus back to Bikini Bottom?

That was us with less coral.

Two or three buses passed us going the opposite direction but there was no imminent promise of a bus going our way.  There are fewer buses running on Sunday - thus my above note to self.

Eventually, our bus came along, and we made it safely back home.

Then it was off to St. Stephens Green Shopping Centre to visit a Virgin Mobile store so we could get an Irish phone plan and Irish phone numbers.  Fortunately, we could take a train for this errand, and the trains tend to run a little more frequently.

There's a mid-sized book store named Easons in the mall that I wanted to visit.  I didn't bring any books with me (they were all packed) so I haven't had anything to read.  Since reading is my self care, I knew I needed to find something to get lost in.  They didn't have a huge selection, so I wound up with a copy of "The Hobbit."  I haven't read that book in decades so I figured it would be a good escape.  Also grabbed a word-search book that will also help keep me occupied.

We also went to TK Maxx (American translation:  TJ Maxx) and picked up a couple things before heading home.

Eli wanted to get off at Dundrum so he could get a haircut, which left me to ride the train all the way home by myself.  And I did it!  Fortunately, the route ends at our apartment building so I didn't need to worry about getting off at the right stop or switching transport or anything.

St. Stephens is pretty much in the heart of Dublin, and it looked like there were a lot of cool shops and such.  But I was beat (it doesn't help that I'm still not sleeping well) so that will have to wait for another day.

I'm Lovin' It

Nothing says "I'm in Ireland" more than eating at McDonald's and hearing Chaka Khan's "I Feel For You" playing on the sound system.  😁

Observations

We've been here for a week already - that doesn't seem possible.  Here are some observations or discoveries I've made in those seven days:

• They drive on the left side of the road and the driver's seat is on the opposite side of the car.  It's been very startling to see a car go by and there's a child sitting where I'd expect the driver to be.  (And there's no law stating a child has to sit in the back seat.)
• There are no electrical outlets in the bathroom and, in our apartment, the light switches are in the hallway behind the door.
  
• Stores either don't have paper/plastic bags or you get charged for them.
• Chips are called "crisps" and fries are called "chips."
• They don't sell canned pumpkin here.
• If you own a TV, you have to buy a TV license.
• Tax is added to an item right off the bat so the price you see on the shelf sticker is the price you pay.
• It's considered impolite not to thank the bus driver as you get off the bus - which involves yelling because you don't exit the bus near the driver.  I'm having a hard time with yelling in public.
• In the grocery stores I've been to, they don't seem to sell frozen microwave meals (Stouffers, Michelina's, Banquet, etc.)  They have ready-meals, which seem to be a little more homemade than the stuff you'd find in the US.
• All of the outlets and appliances (in our apartment at least) have an on/off switch, so if you want to use an outlet or the dishwasher, you need to first click the switch.
• The stove cooktop is called a "hob."  The oven is called a "cooker."
• Signage here (roadway signs, advertisements, next-stop announcements on bus/train, etc.) is usually in both English and Irish.  Some ads (both in print and on TV) are strictly in Irish.
• Eli went to a Dunnes grocery store yesterday, and their receipt has a little symbol by products that are from Ireland.
• Dish soap is called "washing up liquid."
• They use military time here for the most part (e.g. 1 p.m. is 13:00).
• Paper and coin money is in different colors and different sizes.
• From Eli:  There's a lot more population diversity around us than he saw in Minnesota.
• From Eli:  If people need to get through a crowd (like getting off a crowded train), they say "sorry" rather than "excuse me."

Bump in the Road

"I miss that town/I miss their faces/You can't erase/You can't replace it
I miss it now/I can't believe it/So hard to stay/Too hard to leave it..."

Ever since I was a young child, I have had separation anxiety.  When school began each year, I would cry every day because I had to leave my home and my parents behind.  It took many, many years, but eventually I grew out of that pattern.

It lessened but never completely disappeared as I grew older.  We would leave the house for a weekend away, and I would feel that old, familiar twinge of displacement, of fear, of anxiety.

Guess what happens when you have unresolved separation anxiety and you move to a different country that's 3700 miles from your home?

Yeah, it's been a bad couple of days.

Today I thought about going to Spar, which is a convenience store that's just around the corner.  The idea scared me so much that I started to cry and haven't really stopped yet.  And then I get angry with myself and become this bully who sneers and scoffs, "It's just a short walk away.  What is wrong with you?"

My sense of stability has been shot to hell.  I'm in an alien universe, and everything feels uncomfortable and threatening.

This is not a bad place.  I'm probably safer here than I ever was in the US.  But insecurity doesn't listen to logic.

One day, it will be easy for me to walk out our front door.  It will be easy for me to push this anxiety aside and explore this interesting and wonderful new place.  Dublin will wait for me - unless there's a nuclear strike, it's not going anywhere.

I just need to be patient with myself until then.

Goodbye...and Hello

 "I'm leavin' on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again..."

I flew away from a home I'd known for over 50 years at approximately 9:40 p.m. on August 8, 2024.  I arrived in Ireland around 11 a.m. on 9 August 2024.  Here's the story of the in-between.

As we were selling the house, we stayed at a hotel nearer the airport for a couple nights leading up to our departure.  You can see that the cats settled in pretty well at the hotel.

On the evening of our flight, we got the cats situated in their harness and leash.  We knew we'd have to take them out of their carriers during the security screening and wanted to be sure they couldn't bolt.  Neither of them had ever worn a harness before aside from a brief moment when I made sure the equipment would fit.  They didn't care for the sensation but they were really quite good about it.

We piled into the rental car with our two large suitcases, two carry-on backpacks, and two unhappy cats.  Our plan was that Eli would drop me off with my backpack and the two cats, go to return the rental car, and come back with our two suitcases and his backpack.

As we approached the drop-off area, the Delta sign stated that the Delta drop-off door was open.  The pick-up/drop-off area was as much of a cluster as you would expect it to be, so we didn't see - until it was too late - that there was construction right in front of the Delta door and indeed, it was NOT open.  Because yeah, that type of thing happening is a balm to someone's nerves.

So it was back in the chute for another spin around the outskirts of the airport, coming back in again into the mess of cars and people near the entry doors.

I got out of the car with my backpack and two cats and plodded into the terminal to sit down and wait for Eli to come back after dropping off the car.  There was a gal sitting in the block of chairs, so I struck up a conversation with her.  She was traveling back home to Nashville, grateful to be returning to her family, and she cooed over the boys.

Eli arrived - relief! - only to say that he'd forgotten his backpack in the rental car so he needed to go back and retrieve it.  😱  If Enterprise had been just a hop/skip/jump away, it wouldn't have been a big deal - but the whole venture involved a tram ride, so it was not a simple process.  He left the suitcases with me and headed back to get his backpack.

At this point, I should mention that his backpack had EVERYTHING we would need to actually get on the plane and/or be admitted into Ireland:  his passport, half the euros we had brought, the cats' health certificate, his work papers, etc.  He mentioned that fact a day or two ago in a Facebook post, and before he said it, I never even considered the gravity of the situation.  And I'm glad I didn't because if I had, I probably wouldn't have been as calm as I was at the airport.

He returned with backpack in tow, so we went to stand in the ticketing/check-in line.  It would have been nice to go through the self-check lane but we couldn't do that as we needed to check the cats, pay their fee, etc.

The line was moving for a few moments and then it just stopped.  And by stopped, I mean stopped DEAD.  Cadavers in the morgue had more life than this friggin' line.

There were four or five agents working the non-elite-passenger check in, and more than half of them spent a lot of time on the phone dealing with some type of issue regarding the passenger standing at their station.  I kid you not, one family was there for over a half hour, dealing with some kind of messy problem.

I felt my anxiety creeping higher and higher the longer we stood there.  Eventually, Delta opened up the elite-passenger check in to deal with the backlog.  After a lengthy check-in process (that dude REALLY looked HARD at the cats' health certificate), we went to stand in line for security.

There were a LOT of people - more than I would've expected at 7 p.m. on a Thursday night - but at least that line was moving pretty well.  The cats made fans in a group of young women who were thrilled to see kitties in line with them.

Both of us were more than frazzled at this point.  I forgot to take my bag of liquids out of my backpack, and Eli forgot to take off his shoes and belt.  The TSA agent at this step in the process was pleasant as a hangnail.  He barked at Eli for some transgression and just was jerky all the way around.  The agent at the scanner was kinder, not giving Eli a hard time for triggering the alarm because he'd forgotten to remove his belt.  We took the kitties out of their carriers, and it's a blur now but I think they did okay.  We had to have our hands swabbed - apparently they randomly check for explosives - and even though I knew I was clean, it was still stress-inducing waiting for the machine to give the all-clear.

We had planned to get something to eat at the airport once settled at our gate but with all the delays, we didn't have time.  Eli got up with one of the cats, wanting to take them into a family bathroom and remove the harness so they didn't have to wear it for the long flight.  Just as he had stepped out of the gate area, the gate agent made an announcement for the following people to come to the desk - and Eli was one of them.

After a few-minute conversation, he left the desk and continued on his way to the bathroom with the cat.  He came back after a while, got the other cat, and repeated the process.

As we're sitting there, Eli AGAIN gets called up to the desk.  What the actual fuck.  There was a family sitting in the seats across from us, kind of commiserating as they were seeing what was happening, and I said to them, "One day, this might be funny.  Today is not that day."

We had bought a row of three seats so we'd have some extra room on the flight.  (And ye gods, am I ever grateful we did!)  One of the tickets was for passenger EXST Eldridge and obviously, that doesn't match his passport.  The first guy Eli had spoken with talked with this gate agent and said things were fine, that we had bought an extra seat/ticket.  You'd think Delta would have a workaround for that - I can't imagine we're the first people who've bought an extra seat - but here we are.

Finally we got on the plane, got our backpacks stowed, and put the cats beneath the seats in front of us.  Our flight was delayed for about a half hour because of traffic ahead of us - the pilot said something like, "It wouldn't be Minneapolis if there weren't traffic" - and then we were taxiing for take-off.

I felt a couple tears slip from my eyes but honestly, I was so concerned about the cats that I pretty much shoved my personal emotions about leaving home into my feet.

Neither cat enjoyed the take-off - I'm sure it bothered their ears, and they didn't understand what was happening.

If I tell you that I didn't sleep for over 26 hours, I think that will give you some idea of how the flight went.

Honestly, without the cats, it would've been fine.  There weren't any unruly, idiot passengers, and the flight itself was relatively uneventful (not much turbulence, etc.)  However, we had cats, and it was not fine for long stretches.  I spent most of the flight with Patrick's carrier on my lap, hunched over it with my hand stuck inside to pet him, shushing him and begging him to stop crying.  Eli did much the same with Norris.  We didn't want them to be upset, and we were mortified that they might be disturbing the people around us, some of whom were trying to sleep.  I didn't notice that anyone shot us any dirty looks or said anything, but I still felt bad.

It was more than a relief when we touched down in Dublin and knew at least the plane portion of the journey was over.

Again, we made a long slog to the baggage claim area.  We found the conveyor belt with the luggage from our flight....only our luggage wasn't on it.  We needed to have a compliance check done for the cats by the Department of Agriculture so we decided to get that done first and then worry about the luggage.

The representative scanned the boys' microchips, looked over their paperwork, and stamped it.  He said, "These certificates are good for four months so you're free to travel the EU during that time."  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  Do you think after THIS flight that I'll EVER travel with these cats again??  That's a hard no.

After the Ag visit, we wandered over to the "Baggage Enquiries," planning to ask about our luggage.  I nearly cried when I saw some luggage sitting there and I recognized the new kitty luggage tag I had bought.  Both of our bags were there so we grabbed them and rolled toward Customs.

Not knowing what line to get into (there's a green line if you don't have anything to declare and a red line if you do - the guidance we'd read online said that if you weren't sure to get into the red line), we got into the red line.  The Customs agent (who had that prototypical Irish accent) said, "If you're standing in that line, it's because you want me to have a conversation with you.  Do you want me to have a conversation with you?"  😃 He was quite good-natured about it.  We mentioned to him that we hadn't been sure about which line to go to, and he asked if we were bringing in XXX (I can't remember now what he said besides meat).  We said no, and he sent us on our way.

The next delay was trying to get a taxi.  I think Eli had made a reservation for one, but we wound up waiting for quite some time.  I'm feeling more and more faint - remember, I hadn't slept for over a day, and I barely ate or drank on the flight - and I'm worried about the cats who have been stuck in their carriers for over 12 hours.

Eventually, our driver shows up and we start the 40-minute drive to our apartment.  But first, we had to stop at one of the sister apartments to ours to pick up our keys.  That was a cluster too, and poor Eli was about ready to pop by the time he secured the keys and we were able to get to our apartment.  If the key fob hadn't worked to let us in, I think I would've completely lost my mind at that point.

Our relocation coordinator showed up a little while after we arrived.  She wanted to do a walk-through of the apartment, taking photos to ensure we wouldn't get dinged for stuff if/when we moved out.  She offered to drive us to the market or wherever we needed to go, but we had no idea exactly what we needed so we begged off.

Quite honestly, the rest of that day is a complete blur.  We may've walked to a nearby convenience store to get a LEAP card (used for the buses and trains) and a little food but I wouldn't swear to it at this point.

So, dear reader, thus ends the tale of our journey here.  In future posts, I will talk about our experiences since we landed.

Here are the boys in their new home: