I'm surrounded by boxes and I am hiding from my children. Whatever twinge of guilt I might feel is pretty much eliminated as I hear their squeals of glee emanating from every room in this house. Nothing could make them more happy than a) rediscovering their toys in the boxes; b) playing with the empty boxes themselves.
The boxes are here because we received our shipping container this week. For two days now, I have been unpacking, sorting, washing, lifting and sighing deeply as it appears that no matter what I do, I am still surrounded by mess, disorder and chaos.
It is nice having beds and couches though. I don't care how much cardboard and newspaper I have to crawl over to get to them.
I can fondly look back at last weekend's pictures when I want to be reminded of the ease of living with just the clothes on our back (suitcase) and the pluck spirit that comes with sleeping on an aerobed.
At the Bermuda Botanical gardens for the annual SPCA charity event. Painting calabash.
Watching a demonstration with a parrot.
A nice little side trip to the "cat show." Jordan correctly pointed out that the cats weren't doing much, hence there was no real "show." I agreed and used it as an opportunity to extol the reasons why dogs are so much more useful, and actually do put on a show. Notwithstanding our dog, of course, who can barely survive a brisk walk down a quick segment of the Bermuda Railway trail before collapsing in a heap on his pillow in the air conditioning. But other dogs.. they do put on a good show.
The cat was offended.
Jordan was invited to a birthday party, but being the eager beaver that I am, we decided to show up a week early. Good thing the event was at a school, so we got full use of the playground and I discovered a new place to drag the kids that is shade covered. Jordan quickly forgot that he was supposed to be attending a party.
On Sunday, we attended the Bermuda Family Sail day at Barr Bay and the Royal Bermuda Yacht club. When they say things begin at 10, don't bother showing up till at least 12. We got there at 11 and they were just starting to set up. Things in Bermuda run on what I call "Desi time." Others may call choose to call it something else, but I think many cultures share this sort of laid back view of what 24 hours in a day actually mean. Having been born and raised in the states however, being obsessive-compulsive by nature, and having spent much of my life living in NYC, this concept of time will take some getting used to.
Jordan could care less. He found the FLAGS!!!
And Mina found cotton candy.
Much like a snake, which is capable of detaching its lower jar to swallow its prey whole, children are capable of similar feats of strength when challenged.
Our hope was to take the kids on a sailboat ride around the harbor, but chaotic circumstances prevented that. Instead, we walked over to Hamilton ferry and hopped aboard the pink Paget/Warwick (pronounced Wor-ick) line. Jordan and Mina got on free with their school bus/ferry pass; and we spent 40 minutes touring the harbor and listening to a Canadian actress extol the virtues of eggs Benedict in Hamilton and the despicable state of her love life. Ok, maybe I was the only one actually paying attention to that. Digression - I can't imagine being single in Bermuda as an expat would be the best way to meet people. Not that I know anything about meeting people, but with kids, by default you're sort of forced to meet people through their schools. And as usual, walking Oscar has introduced me to many of our neighbors.. but do single ex-pats actually move to Bermuda?
I think Jeff was watching the kids.
When I could be spared from listening to the Carrie Bradshaw like conversation occurring beside me, I took some pictures.
Jordan on ferry, sparkly water.
Jeff and Mina.
little sailors - sunfish. These are younger tikes sailing on the Harbor as part of the sail fest. The actress said they were on sunfish. I have no idea what that meant. The name of the boat maybe? But I did think it would be very cool if Mina and Jordan could learn to sail. I suppose they should learn how to swim though.
Despite stuffing their faces with all manner of carnival fare, by noon the kids were hysterical with hunger. Jordan was in full throw-himself-on-the-floor-screaming-with-pain kind of hunger. I laugh now, but at the time it was pretty miserable. Granted, this is a kid who never gets hungry. Except when he does. And it comes out of nowhere. We walked into Robin Hood in Hamilton, and I begged the waiter to bring over a bread basket and butter asap.
Jordan, whose screams were second only to the mates at the bar cheering on Bristol or whomever was causing such a fuss over there. I'm really learning to appreciate the pub factor in Bermuda dining. For those of you put off by the thought of people drinking in the middle of the day, don't stress. First, no one cares if you do or not, and second, if you have kids, taking them to eat at a pub guarantees that others will be louder than your children. In fact, once their hunger was abated, my kids were actually more interested in the noises coming from the patrons at the bar than in misbehaving themselves. They were remarkably well behaved, actually. And pub dining in Bermuda is probably one of the most inexpensive eating options there is.
In Jersey we used to go to diners. Here, it's the pub. Or the pizza house, which is just down the street and which also makes a mac 'n cheese that has Jordan so transfixed he could eat a three-person serving and still ask for seconds. I don't know where he puts this stuff.
Ok, back to the kids and the boxes.