Hey, I exist! No not in the '"of course you do we weren't missing your blog writings that much", but in the I have a bank card! To catch up the last 2 weeks were filled with birthdays, Matthew's and mine. As such, there was a lot of running around trying to find out what you can do for an 8yo who has just moved to a new country, where is the good bakery for cake..since we STILL don't have our stuff etc etc etc. In the meantime, I was on a frantic search for a couch. Our beloved air matress got a giant hole from our sitting on it and I just couldn't take it any more. We finally had success, yes in another IKEA trip. By the end of which we had filled an entire panel van and our house is now furnished. Ok, most of it is still in the boxes, but progress has been made and we have a couch AND a chair...you have no idea how exciting this is!
To my existence. There are many weird things here. upon arrival into the country, you have health insurance. To access a doctor, you simply walk into an office and they check a box that says yes they like the looks of you or no and then you are done. Nothing else. I now have a Social Insurance number, like a social security number. My children have been attending school. But, I cannot get a bank card. Frank opened up our account when he was on his house/school hunting mission some time ago. Since he was the only one here, only he could open the account. Same goes for renting the house. This all seems simple and logical, however, when I arrive and we go to the bank with passports, marriage certificates, finger prints, DNA typing and try to add me to the account and get me a bank card the answer is "I'm sorry, we need a utility bill or council tax statement with your name on it". So we call the council tax people who over the phone without even checking who I am say..sure. However, when they send up the new bill, they have decided to make me ADAMS not ADAM, and now the bank thinks I am a shady character and still won't issue me a bank card, so we call the tax man again to correct this problem. Eventually it all gets sorted with the right name on the tax bill, but now there is a post office strike so my mail has been re-routed to the branch that Frank originally opened the account. No idea why, but now, 6 weeks after being in the country, I received my bank card today!!
The moral of this story, don't leave home without your tax statement or utility bill! All those other questionable documents(passports, visas with fingerprints etc...) pah on those. Only the tax people know who you really are! If any of you want to open an account, we can just call up the tax man and add you on and you are in!!!
New words "rubbish". Matthew came home with.."Mom, all my pencils at school are rubbish, I need new ones"
"chuffed"...Rodney, you will be happy to know Bridget's teacher used it in class and she had a little laugh.
"que" yes, we all now "que up for things and believe me there is no end of things to "que up for"
"bin"..the garbage can
"jab".. Bridget got her HPV immunization at school..called "the jab"
"tri" we don't really know what his means, but Bridget, Matthew and Nick all scored one on their rugby scrimmages..we think it is a point
"boots" cleats
"rubber" erasers
"plaster" band-aid
"kit"..as in your PE kit, or football kit..your supplies
Level 1-3 training "this odd little thing is training to be signed off by the Borough that you can ride your bike to and from school. They have trainers and everything.
I'll end here with some more pictures, looking forward to hearing from everyone.
