We're back!
We arrived at Stanstead round midnight. House still standing. Tom must have been watering Cedric, the sweet peas and the growbag of mixed lettuce, out the back. I phoned my work to see if they needed me. They don't, they've found a family for Mahadi, my Kurdish student. I'm sorry to lose him. The other two; Stephane and Adil (Congolese and Somali) , are now attending Springboard College. I had been hoping that more young people might have arrived - no such luck!
It means that I have time to catch up on the blog front and tell you about the holiday. First, the terrible thing that I did. When we left the camp site, at Guimaraes, I forgot to collect Ep's passport. On the last day, we had to go all the way back to pick it up. At least it gave us another chance to take a sentimental journey up the "teleferico" (sorry! no picture), it was the first cable car in Portugal and was built 10 years ago. Second, the next terrible thing, I left £150 sterling in the ashtray of the hire car. I just remembered when we were in the baggage retrieval hall in Stanstead. How could I do such a thing? I had brought the money, hoping to change it directly, but soon realised that nowadays nobody wants the hassle of currency exchange - you just use your card. I thought the ashtray was the ideal safe place. I phoned them first thing this morning - the money was still there(phew!) and they'll send it with Western Union.
I hate myself for doing such stupid things! It seems I can't go on a holiday without committing them; visiting Simon - I missed my flight to Vancouver, going to Brazil - I told Selma the wrong day so she had to wait another 24 hours in Recife to meet me, going to France - I forgot to leave the keys under the mat for Joan. This time I thought I'd been so good (with Ep's calming influence!) not a bit of it!
It's not only the problem caused by the mistake, it is the self-inflicted torture I have to endure. Then I project onto Ep the role of silently-crowing, triumphant-but-patient, adult. Then I have to start again with rebuilding the mask of cool, capable maturity that has slipped to reveal the helpless child, the true "me".
As you might judge from the photos, these hiccups could only add to the tapestry.
It means that I have time to catch up on the blog front and tell you about the holiday. First, the terrible thing that I did. When we left the camp site, at Guimaraes, I forgot to collect Ep's passport. On the last day, we had to go all the way back to pick it up. At least it gave us another chance to take a sentimental journey up the "teleferico" (sorry! no picture), it was the first cable car in Portugal and was built 10 years ago. Second, the next terrible thing, I left £150 sterling in the ashtray of the hire car. I just remembered when we were in the baggage retrieval hall in Stanstead. How could I do such a thing? I had brought the money, hoping to change it directly, but soon realised that nowadays nobody wants the hassle of currency exchange - you just use your card. I thought the ashtray was the ideal safe place. I phoned them first thing this morning - the money was still there(phew!) and they'll send it with Western Union.
I hate myself for doing such stupid things! It seems I can't go on a holiday without committing them; visiting Simon - I missed my flight to Vancouver, going to Brazil - I told Selma the wrong day so she had to wait another 24 hours in Recife to meet me, going to France - I forgot to leave the keys under the mat for Joan. This time I thought I'd been so good (with Ep's calming influence!) not a bit of it!
It's not only the problem caused by the mistake, it is the self-inflicted torture I have to endure. Then I project onto Ep the role of silently-crowing, triumphant-but-patient, adult. Then I have to start again with rebuilding the mask of cool, capable maturity that has slipped to reveal the helpless child, the true "me".
As you might judge from the photos, these hiccups could only add to the tapestry.
posted by us at 11:35 AM
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