Back in Dublin to send Taken to the editor. Box ticked btw. Take that, WIP! (And thanks, betas. You all rock!)
Things I’ve learned in the new place.
- Everyone on the same stretch of road as us shares the exact same address – yet the postman knew exactly where to send the last tenant’s post, my post, and my OH’s post this week. Secret super power. *Nods*
- Our stretch of road is the only place in the village (I keep saying village in a Welsh accent) without broadband.
- The water is gank. Stupid iron. Even the filtered water is awful. No more nice green tea for me. I came home and had about three massive cups in a row just to make up for the disappointment.
- Never lie on the grass if you don’t like insects crawling down your top.
- Five minutes down the road in a rural place is not equal to five minutes down the road in Dublin city. Not even close.
- Everyone knows your car doesn’t belong there. People think it’s weird if you stay home all day, especially if you. Can’t. Even. Drive. *Shocked Eyes* I think I’m going to be the eccentric one in the village. Score!
- School starts a half hour later than in Dublin. Yay!
- I can’t play football in a pair of converse without them flying off. Leaving them off is probably not the solution (see number 4 for a clue). Nor is letting the big dog play. Her head + my knees = crippling pain.
- Hurling is king. *Hides football*
- I am not a country girl.
The kids have learned what sunburn is. Even if they were convinced that the sunburn victim’s pink arm was caused by a bluebottle landing on him. They remain suspicious. My sun-cream obsession has now worsened.
Hanging around for a few days to get some bizniz done then I’m heading off again.