A Moving Experience

My second summer adventure was moving. Literally. Since we moved to the Netherlands we had been renting a house near Tim's work, close to the center of town, and not too far from school. We had begun to make friends in the neighborhood (as we had been warned, this was slow to happen). We felt comfortable in the house, and enjoyed the easy-to-maintain garden and feeling of greater space with a park immediately behind the house.

So it was a bit of a bombshell when the owner of the house informed us in May that her relationship of five years had ended, and that she needed to move back into the house. Our contract required four months notice in this situation, meaning that we had until September to find a place and move in. We knew from our initial search that there is not much rental inventory (or rather, not much of the type we are interested in). In town, as we prefer, is especially slim pickings. While the outlying villages are charming, living there would mean giving up our bicycle friendly lifestyle, something we are unwilling to do.

After a week of mourning, we started our search. As expected, there was very little to choose from. We looked at four homes in Venlo that met our specifications (three bedrooms being our only important criteria). One turned out to be for sale but not for rent. Another was an 80 square meter  apartment in the centrum, with lovely light and big windows but also tiny bedrooms and no room for bikes. Another was a stylish new house, fully furnished (we were moving from a furnished house so this was a good thing), on the outskirts of town in a new, seemingly car-dependent neighborhood. The remaining option, in the same area as our current rental, had a rather strange floor plan and needed some work - apparently painting and light fixtures are tenant responsibilities here. I ended up leaving for the States without making a decision.

On one of the last days of my trip Tim forwarded a message from the agent about the fourth rental option. He was about to show the house to another incoming expat. Were we still interested? I had a full summer planned, and the only time I would have to move would be immediately after returning from the US. I took a deep breath and we agreed to sign the lease the day after my return.

That was the beginning of a whirlwind of activity. We spent the next day shopping for furniture (thank goodness for IKEA), and I spent much of the day after finalizing our order and arranging for delivery. I met with the movers who were fortunately available at short notice (possibly because we had very little to move). I cleaned the new house and started moving things over by carload. I painted. In the middle of these preparations we hosted a couple of very gracious cyclists who took delivery of moving boxes while I was busy at the new house!

After ten fairly frantic days, with the calm assistance of our very kind friends from the Sint Joris Kerk who generously helped with painting and furniture assembly, we were moved into the new house. I cleaned the old house, and our landlady moved in the following day, for which she was very grateful. And although still missing one piece of furniture (a couch scheduled for later delivery) I was able to sleep one night in our new home before starting the next adventure!

As I write this, nearly two months after our move, I am amazed by what we were able to accomplish in such a short time. And very, very glad we didn't have the move casting a cloud over us all summer! My only regret is that we weren't able to move like this:

Photo by Amsterdamized

Visiting my heart

This week students in our town returned to school, so it's perhaps appropriate that I return to my blog with a "what I did on my summer vacation" essay. This summer was the busiest of my life with content for several posts, which I plan to write about chronologically.

Summer 2012 started with a visit in June to my three daughters who live in the American Pacific Northwest - in other words, a visit to my heart. My daughters were great about making time for me, as were a number of friends who made time to hang out, catch up, and hike together (I was in training mode for a walking event later in the summer, more about that later). 

The visit was sparked by the graduation of the youngest from high school and (concurrently) community college. She's a middle child, following two high-achieving older sisters, which is a lot of pressure. But she has figured out a way to make her own path, while continuing to fulfill family expectations. We are proud of her for (1) completing high school mostly on her own; (2) finishing an Associate (two year) college degree at the same time; and (3) finishing high school as a valedictorian. 

With surrogate mom of the year

Equally important, I hadn't seen any of them since Christmas, and six months was starting to feel like a long time. We celebrated being together by hiking in the Chuckanut Mountains, walking Alki Beach, and sampling beer in Vancouver, BC (as well as here, here, here and here). 

Enjoying a brew or two

Although we still call them "the girls", our daughters are now young adults with their own priorities, relationships and busy lives. The trip was a good opportunity to practice our new relationship roles; they as independent young women and I as ... I'm not sure what, but it involves a lot of listening and a certain amount of tongue-biting. Still and all, it feels great to see them opening up their wings and soaring into adulthood. Ahhhhhh ....

photo by Oast House Archive