Typical (again, I know)

Why does a heron lift one foot to go to sleep?
If he lifts both, he will fall over!

My dad wanted to take my baby with him on holiday: it was smaller and therefore didn't weigh as much as his own laptop. So, when I went to see my parents last week, I took the baby with me. Without it's protective cover though, because I had lost it. I couldn't find it anywhere! I knew it wasn't in the kitchen and it was definitely nowhere in sight. The day my parents left last week, I found it. It had made its way into the paper recycling bin! Oops!!

I am however not the only one loosing stuff. Even the powers that be (ie my boss) looses stuff occasionally. Like certificates. Although I should probably say he didn't loose it so much as never had it in the first place. So, tomorrow I will be doing a course I have already done! Joy!!

So, what is this course you are wondering (I know you are, you lot are a nosy bunch of people, otherwise you wouldn't read my or anybody else's blog). I will tell you: it's 'The New Driving'.  For some obscure reason the European Parliament has decided professional large vehicle drivers (bus/coach and lorry) need 35 hours of extra training every five years in order for them to be allowed to keep on driving professionally. There are many courses to pick from, but one that is almost mandatory is the new driving. Learning how to save fuel (and as a result the environment) and how to drive a bit more smoothly.

As I said I did this course nearly two years ago, but apparently my boss never got the proof of it. So, since it's already paid for, I have to do it again. Ah well, I will get paid for it... I just hope I will get the chance to do the remaining 14 hours as well (I already have two other courses under my belt), so I might go to Norway with a new driver's licence, all up to code!

Not quite there yet

I bet they are fluent!

There are seven stages of learning a new language. The first one is 0. You don't know the new language at all or only a few single unconnected words. Then comes A1, where you can make simple sentences and ask simple questions. If you get answered in the new language you haven't really got a clue as to what they are saying. Level A2 means you are able to follow simple conversations.

B1 means you are able to get into a bit more complex conversations and understand people on the phone or on the radio. B2 means you get even more and are quite able to join in a conversation, only occasionally having to look for words. C1 means you are fluent and C2 means you can converse on a scientific level. I would say I am C1 Dutch speaker. Start with scientific lingo and I am lost. I guess I would also be a C1 English and German speaker. French would be between B1 and B2 and my Italian would be about A1-A2. Of course all those languages don't mean a thing: I am learning Norwegian after all.

Today I phoned to Norway and in my best Norwegian I asked whether I could speak to a certain person. And that was as far as I got. It went downhill from there on in. I had been hoping to impress them with my knowledge, but my mouth decided differently, only uttering incomprehensible nonsense. In the end we turned to English.

I had phoned the bus company because I wanted them to know I was learning Norwegian and was actually quite alright in it, which in turn would hopefully make them offer me a job. Long shot I know, but what can I say. I am convinced of my own abilities. But the conversation did give me some result. The company didn't have any openings at the moment, but were expecting some openings in the autumn, whether they could contact me then? And the lady on the other end of the phone told me I needed to be at level B1 at least! And from my nonsense it was quite clear I was a bit off yet!

It was a bit of a disappointment of course, but on the other hand, I now know what to work towards...

'Big'

My choice for this week's prompt is the photo you see here. In 1999 me and three friends went on holiday to Malta. Mostly we stayed in the hotel (it had a nice rooftop swimming pool), but on two occasions we went out. This was one. The night before, one of my friends had been flirting with some American navy guys and they had given us a ticket to visit their ship.

Anyway, we skipped the line of schoolchildren and other nosy people and presented our ticket. We got in and were absolutely awed by the massive ship, the USS John F Kennedy. It was the biggest aircraft carrier in the world at that time I believe (I've heard it has since been put out of commission). We only got a small tour, but what with fifteen floors, I don't mind too much. I posed in the end with the lovely young man who had given us the tour in front of the American flag. I am the little dot on the left!

This is my 23rd entry for Photo Theme for Thursday. Why not join?

The ongoing saga

As you know I am not life's biggest gardener. I think it is even fair to say I am a lousy gardener. If I had the money I would hire a gardener to do the work for me, but since I have other plans with my money...

As you also know the housing corporation I rent the house from has some rules according to how my garden is supposed to look. No weeds (what is a weed anyway?), no junk, nothing too overgrown. A few years ago Carolina came and helped me out to clear my garden of some of the weeds and ever since then I have been more or less on top of the work.

Anyway. This year I got a notice saying that I had to get my garden in proper order because they were checking up again. With their kitchen steps to look over the fence and all (it didn't say that in the letter, but my neighbour saw it one year). And then I got another notice to "clear the front yard of weeds (which I knew) and to clear any tree that is too close to the fence. There are about six trees in my small back yard and they were there last year and the year before. I never had to remove any trees before. So, I phoned: how far away do the trees need to be? Turns out it's two meters (just under 7 ft).

I think they are just making it up. Because why didn't I hear about it last year or the year before? The trees were there then! Besides that, how on earth am I going to get rid of a tree that is higher than the house (if it's too close that is, otherwise it's staying!). I sure hope that tree is good, since it's endless fun for cats and I get to see more and more birds in it as well.

Never mind that though: every garden should look the same and certainly not with any trees in!

Not happy!

As if I hadn't fed her in over a month while poking her with hot irons! That's how she sounded when I wouldn't let her out! She was definitely not pleased and miaowed a great deal to let me know!

However, when the dark clouds became really dark and the thunder started, she resigned herself to the fact she definitely wasn't going out and settled on her little bed.

Spit

Not allowed for now.
Mind you, the weather is awful anyway!

Now, when you read the title of this post, you might be forgiven if you think I am going to talk about spitting. It's not the case though. Spit is just the Dutch word used for the back problem also known as lumbago. Which I have. If it's not the head, it's the back. Next year the feet if this keeps up!

Anyway, lumbago. When I first started feeling these severe pains in my lower back last Saturday, I of course was immediately thinking of severe problems like a hernia or even cancer, but after looking it up on the internet, I think it's far more likely I have lumbago than either of the other two. Which is good. Well, as good as it gets in the case of back pain that is.

As I had looked it all up, I had found some nice to do's and not to do's with lumbago. Don't lie down all day long: it will only stiffen your back and prolong the problem. Do move around, either walking, cycling or swimming. Don't do any heavy lifting. Don't sit in the same position all day. And that last one is of course the 'top' one! Because as a busdriver, I tend to sit in the same position all day. Every day. Especially since I had to go to Germany this week for two days. Long stretches of Autobahn ahead of me and no way to change position. Fortunately I have some good pain killers and a coach kitted out with a good chair. So, I was relatively pain free while bouncing all the way to Aschaffenburg (near Frankfurt).

Perhaps I should change the name of my blog to Painful Matters!

'Container'

The prompt of this week is a bit double for me. Because when we use the word container in Dutch, we mean the wheelie bin. The trash can that will be collected every two weeks. Fortunately though, our 'containers' can contain things as much as glass or boxes or anything else, so I set out finding a container.

Well, I found one: two lovely cheery ones I got a shot of 14 years ago while on holiday in Italy. Me and a friend of mine had taken my car and driven down to Lake Garda in northern Italy, where we spent several days. After Lake Garda we made our way to Milan and then to a small village not far from Verona. We saw the balcony of Romeo and Juliet (what do you mean: fool the tourists?), the colliseum from the outside, I had my first pizza ever, we pretended to think and I spotted these bins.

This is my 22nd entry for Photo Theme for Thursday. Why not join?

Shorter

It actually looks a lot better in real life!

Fed up. That was what I was with my hair. I could wear it loose, which would bother me no end, or I could wear it up: either just up, or in a ponytail or plait. And I was fed up with that. So, I went to the hairdresser and told her: short! Unfortunately I have a really good hairdresser (and a nice one to boot) and she told me no! No!! Because it wouldn't suit me. Which was true. And the one haircut that did suit me was not to my taste (ie it looks like my mum's!).

But all of sudden she got a brainwave, got some book out and found a haircut that would suit me. So, she started snipping away. And snipping away some more, until I felt I was nearly bald. Mind you, I could see what was going on in the mirror, so I knew I wasn't going bald, it just felt like it. After she had finished cutting, she made my hair a bit blonder and now I am sporting a great new fresh haircut. Wash, dry and model. Done!

The reactions I have had (from amongst others my colleagues) were varied. The ones that did comment liked it, even going so far as to say it suited me better than the long hair. But most didn't even notice! That's men for you!

Anyway, I like it and that's the most important thing...

Bekrefter

We confirm that your application for a job as "Bus Driver - full-time and part-time" is received. We will make further contact with you should you be considered for a position with us.

Well, they had better consider me!

Typical

I wonder if Oscar Wilde ever lost anything
One of my retrieved photos!

I loose stuff. I don't mean to, but I do. I lost my photos through a stupid mistake (and found some again, phew), I lost my way on more than one occasion in the past, I lost my coach keys twice in one day several years ago! And the latest thing lost to the Land of Lostdom was my new and improved Norwegian CV (or resumé).

Now, I knew it was in the kitchen somewhere, since that's where I had taken it out of the bag. I knew I had put it on top of one of the kitchen cupboards, but when I looked it wasn't there. When I came upstairs to my work room though, I thought I saw it: but alas, it was only my Norwegain course, which is in the same type folder as my cv.

It is very annoying when you loose something like that. Of course I still had my old and not so good cv, but Gunnar in Norway had helped me update it and it looked a lot better. And I didn't know all the improvements anymore. I knew a few, but not all. So, I had resigned myself to the fact I would need to update that one.

When I came into my work room this morning (I don't want to call it an office, that sounds a bit too posh for me), I saw a folder. A folder that had been sitting on a crate for about five weeks, ever since I got back from Norway. Turns out I had put the folder containing my cv in my work room almost immediately. In plain sight. And I had overlooked it every single day!

*Groan*