tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33343582011-12-15T03:09:17.864ZBratislava DiaryAn American housewife's adventures in Central EuropeThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.comBlogger741100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-12779930235121925042007-12-22T19:25:00.000Z2007-12-22T19:26:39.756ZAh, Gentle Reader. You have come to here to follow my adventures in Slovakia. But I've moved to Moscow! If you're game, follow the Moscow link and see what I'm up to now.The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-5776585391205411242007-11-29T09:03:00.000Z2008-01-25T14:37:23.640ZIn Which I Try to Remember How Much Fun I HadNothing witty today. Nothing cynical. Nothing even very interesting. I am a firm believer that bad experiences make the best blog entries. And what follows was not bad at all, other than the Sugar-Free Red Bull I drank in order to help me stay awake. Nasty stuff.Saturday night was the Bal des Fous: what started as a French party and sort of got out of The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-26772456598051070752007-10-19T19:48:00.000+01:002007-10-19T20:24:07.361+01:00In Which We Consider the Moon Over Parma (Ohio)It's weird the things one fixates on when living abroad. The Spouse and I often recall a holiday (October 10 or Double Ten Day) in Taiwan where we watched a Tina Turner concert on television and wept because we were so homesick.Yeah, it was dumb, but at the time, we were simply overwhelmed by wanting to be in the middle of our own culture. At least The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-88371111849045786912007-10-10T14:48:00.000+01:002007-10-10T16:07:56.161+01:00In Which I Determine It’s Time to Blow This Pop StandOkay, so first I must confess that it seems we are, indeed, moving to Moscow, but don’t ask me anything more about it yet because that is truly all I know. Could be in a few weeks or it could be end of June. But I will keep you posted.So in the spirit of purging and streamlining, I attacked a set of dresser drawers on Monday. It was long The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-662355311923383022007-10-08T10:17:00.000+01:002007-10-08T17:49:47.380+01:00In Which I Take a Break from Talking About SexI know you are disappointed, but this past week was just rather normal. I've had a cold for about a week now, but Thursday I went swimming anyhow. I have no idea how far. My friend counted her laps, and said she did 64. She was really moving, so my guess is maybe I did 40. It took 40 minutes anyhow.That was a feather in my cap, but what I am really The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-39366286341589790872007-10-04T19:43:00.000+01:002007-10-04T20:14:51.695+01:00The Gauntlet Has Been Thrown DownOh, the Internet is a mighty small place, my friends. Do they honestly think I will never see this? In fairness, I see the majority of the posters coming to my defense. And, in truth, any publicity is good publicity, right?But brace yourselves for the truth, Faithful Readers: I know who you are AND when you read my blog . . . heh heh. No. Really. I do. I have a The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-19199022791706781882007-10-03T20:45:00.000+01:002007-10-03T20:58:49.774+01:00Mystery SolvedA Vigilant Friend forwarded me this local solution to the digestive issues I suffered after the Goose Gorging:It is nice to have a cup of cold drink after a meal. However, the cold water will solidify the oily stuff that you have just consumed. It will slow down the digestion. Once this "sludge" reacts with the acid, it will break down and be absorbed by the intestine faster than The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-28768769259654475512007-09-30T20:40:00.000+01:002007-10-01T07:51:43.096+01:00Binge, PurgeNeither is recommended, although I did have a good time doing both this weekend.The binging began Friday night with a goose fest at the Zlatá Hus, or Golden Goose restaurant in a village just outside Bratislava (http://www.zlatahus.sk/ for fotky or photos). This was my dining club’s annual event, and the third time I’ve been to this place.I don’t generally have much of an emotional The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-37911977473372077492007-09-20T10:45:00.000+01:002007-11-30T14:26:29.006ZBUBLIFUK!No, Gentle Reader, this is not a product one purchases from the back of a men’s magazine. It is something I found in the SCHOOL SUPPLIES aisle of the grocery store. The word impressed me so much that I actually wrote it down on the little notepad I’ve started carrying for just such an occasion. I also wrote the price, 18 crowns, which is not quite a dollar. And I think I shall try The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-32287821389546452282007-07-12T00:58:00.000+01:002007-07-12T01:09:28.697+01:00In Which We Go to a SpaI’m looking for interesting ways to fill the days for the children and my summer single-parent lifestyle. Friend of a Friend works at a spa on the Hungarian border (http://www.wellnesspatince.sk/).Last Friday, before Skittles decided to introduce her temple to a table corner in McDonald’s, I saw, in the mall, large banners advertising her employer. So I booked us.Zuzka saidThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-32246464098416885212007-06-25T19:14:00.000+01:002007-06-25T19:44:32.353+01:00In Which I Cause an International IncidentI wouldn't call me a patriotic person. I cringe during the Independence Day celebrations when I'm forced to listen to that awful Lee Greenwood song. But, I do have moments of national pride from time to time, most often when listening to classic rock tunes . . . although the Brits hold their own in that department, too. I justify that by telling myself The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-59427105269209136592007-06-24T15:23:00.000+01:002007-06-24T15:35:06.623+01:00Coming Soon: The Bratislava Slut StrutNow is as good a time as any to mention the Bratislava Slut Strut tentatively scheduled for the last half of August.Let me explain. I have this wonderful and outrageous American friend. She's one of the few Americans here I really like (many I tolerate, most I have no patience for). She has been my Diet and Fitness Muse: she lost a lot of weight a few years The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-82252067748635224792007-06-22T17:38:00.000+01:002007-06-24T15:38:01.252+01:00Friday Update: This and ThatGirded my loins, as it were, and took Baboo back to the hospital for her "control" this morning as ordered. Walked into the waiting area for the People's Surgical Consulting Office and EVERY brown pleather seat was filled with sad kids with broken arms and their resigned parents. This was at 7:55 a.m.Turned around and walked two doors down the hall to the Private The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-51849809355949432872007-06-19T17:21:00.000+01:002007-06-19T20:08:24.854+01:00Bad Luck Comes in Threes?Sheesh. When will it end, the constant ferrying of family to medical facilities around Central Europe?First it was The Spouse’s Unfortunate Bottom, which, while not completely finished, seems to have turned the corner, as it were. His last visit to the jolly Greek doctor in Hainburg was Saturday.Yesterday, Monday, I notice a missed call from a woman who is identified in The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-39730422361824042612007-06-13T18:07:00.001+01:002009-09-04T08:35:03.465+01:00In Which I Go Temporarily InsaneI’m not sure if this is appropriate blog material, so please give me some feedback. At the time, it seemed hysterical and just full of endless discussion topics. You be the judge.Where to begin? I suppose a discussion of midlife crises is in order first. I have a friend from college who I have recently rediscovered via email. He asked me, “So, what did you do for The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-29251061524725891452007-06-08T09:47:00.000+01:002007-06-08T13:26:39.500+01:00In Which I Volunteer at SchoolI did double volunteer duty at the French school Wednesday and, I tell you Midge, I am fried. First, I had Piscine (swimming pool duty). They ask pairs of mothers to come along and help, and my partner for this was a very nice woman who speaks English better than I do.Thankfully, we weren't required to get in the water, but just kept an eye on the kids from the side The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-20958361606245358002007-06-05T16:27:00.000+01:002007-06-05T16:34:45.641+01:00HIS Medical ProblemsThe poor long-suffering Spouse. In a continuation of the My Medical Problems theme, we have often discussed how nothing that happens to him is ever in what I might call a “public” part of his body: not the elbow, nor the big toe, nor the earlobe. It’s always something that involves removing undergarments and revealing intimate body parts.Such was the case again on Sunday, The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-10475938200041786372007-05-30T17:28:00.000+01:002007-05-30T18:05:02.938+01:00My Medical ProblemsA million years ago, before we even met, The Spouse managed a Wendy’s. He comes from an entire dynasty of Wendy’s managers. In order to relieve the boredom of the job, he invented games he could play while doing his various tasks.His most successful was Dining Room. He observed that there are no more than four basic topics of conversation in any restaurant. While cleaning the The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-77754996973770018702007-05-20T08:49:00.000+01:002007-06-16T14:08:38.932+01:00In Which I Can’t Stop LaughingThat which every parent fears most happened to us today. We got walked in on.I know, I know. Lock the bedroom door, I hear you say. But our bedroom door slides. It can’t be locked. We have always had a If the Door Is Closed Please Knock Policy, but we usually reminded everyone about said policy and the need for a serious problem (i.e. blood) as we started their DVD The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-85280107824995371032007-05-16T12:13:00.000+01:002007-06-22T16:42:38.910+01:00In Which I Am VexedOh, the evils of alcohol. It all comes down to that, in some sort of perverse karmic justice, I am sure. I was snarky about the passing of Rev. Falwell, and, lo! What befell me.Last night was an Italian wine tasting. It was a very nice affair at my friends’ restaurant. It was nice because we tasted four whites and five reds from Sicily and Sardina, presented by a young, but The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-91710779054616152552007-05-08T13:57:00.000+01:002007-06-16T14:15:29.254+01:00United Nations Weekend: Spanish/Austrian/British/French/English?We had an international weekend starting with Spanish Dinner on Friday night. As always, we were in a noisy restaurant, which made it very difficult for me to hear Spanish Husband who is a bit of a quiet talker anyhow. Once when I said, "Huh?" he said "I thought we were speaking Spanish tonight." We WERE speaking Spanish when we The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-26486537598702172052007-05-02T18:48:00.000+01:002007-05-03T07:40:22.853+01:00I DON’T DO GROUPSThe school holidays are over: life is back to normal. Today, while driving back from dropping everyone off at school and office, I was looking at the reflection of my headlights in the back end of the car in front of me. They seemed . . . dim.Shit. I could stop at the car dealer and mime how my lights appear to be kaput and for a few dollars the kind fellows in the Service CenterThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-6749126602132734222007-04-30T09:08:00.000+01:002007-04-30T10:01:53.414+01:00I WANT TO RIDE MY BICYCLE, I WANT TO RIDE MY BIKE . . .So I may have mentioned that I bought myself a bike a few weeks ago. The Spouse is a pretty avid cyclist, and often goes for rides of around three hours and as much as 75 km. He’s got the shorts and the cool shirts and looks at home on the bike paths. A few years ago I rented a bike locally, and we did a round trip ride of about 70 km which The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1174315540673237672007-03-19T15:34:00.000Z2007-03-19T17:13:04.533ZWHAT IF THEY GAVE A REUNION AND NOBODY CAME?Well, if the reunion is in Madrid, you can still have a great time anyhow.The Spouse and I did just that this weekend. We went to Madrid, ostensibly because there was going to be a casual gathering of the Spaniards and Anglos who participated in the English immersion program I went to in November. I didn’t expect people to return from the four corners The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1169138009364987762007-01-18T16:27:00.000Z2007-01-18T16:33:29.373ZTHOSE DARN KIDSThe girls were talking about penises this morning. Baboo wondered if she could grow one. The Spouse said, "Go ahead." Skittles thought the better way was to "buy a fake one and show it to all your friends." That's my girl!***After school the topic switched to breasts. They had one of the Spouse's Russian magazines. This one is particularly crass, with political scandals and The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1164137462324164712006-11-21T19:27:00.000Z2006-11-21T19:31:02.336ZTHE RAIN IN SPAINMy voice has almost returned. My bloodshot eyes are starting to return to a healthy white. I have been sleeping like the dead, and all because of the most amazing week in Spain. I don’t believe that words can describe it . . . further, some of it was so rich with inside jokes (the you-had-to-be-there thing) that you may find this a boring read. But I will describe it briefly, andThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1161017069690096212006-10-16T17:32:00.000+01:002006-10-16T17:44:29.706+01:00Smell Like I SoundLately I have done two things that were just so delightful, that I couldn’t stop grinning the entire time. These are two completely unrelated events, but they were both under the heading of All-senses-full-alert-boy-am-I-glad-to-be-alive sort of experiences. They probably make for infinitely more boring reading, but I can’t go about complaining (or being perceived as complainingThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1160754819520186602006-10-13T16:41:00.000+01:002006-10-13T17:04:13.396+01:00Pani Babka and the Three HumiliationsPani Babka is our neighbor. Her real name is Mrs. Benedictinova, or something like that. But we call her Pani Babka, which means Mrs. Grandma. She is in her 80s and the unofficial liaison between our landlord and us.Here she is, wearing a black, flowered dress, in our backyard.Aside from feeding Otto the Dog treats, which then causes him to stand and stare at The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1159517329542340442006-09-29T08:39:00.000+01:002006-09-29T13:16:13.956+01:00Things I Really Want to Know How to Say in SlovakI have a bruise on my butt.No, I don’t want to know how to say that, but I do have one the size of an orange and because of it I wish I could say some other choice words.I can’t shake the feeling sometimes that the elevator at the mall is some sort of amusement park ride for people. There are two elevators, side-by-side. From this part of the mall,The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1158956157397803942006-09-22T21:04:00.000+01:002006-09-22T21:19:03.940+01:00Back to SchoolSchool resumed September 4 for the girls and September 5 for me. They were eager to go back. Skittles even complained after the first day that all they did was learn each other’s names and “talk.” Boring, said she.I am almost done with my intensive French class that began the day after the girls returned to school. Fifteen days, three hours a day, 0730 until 1045. The first few daysThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1157008791669213302006-08-31T08:11:00.000+01:002006-08-31T08:20:40.986+01:00Some Thoughts on LRI was discussing the naked children phenomenon with a friend and we got onto those cool fountains that shoot water in carefully programmed patterns. I was reminded how when we were in Ohio, LR (my dad) wanted to take the girls to a nearby mall that has one of those cool fountains. Kids are encouraged to play in it (but, being Ohio, they come in swimwear).Alas, that day there The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1156923369741591812006-08-30T08:08:00.000+01:002006-08-30T08:37:35.830+01:00Not Tired of My Own CookingTwo weeks of Casa Paco meals is usually something I look forward to, but this year our trip to Spain was marred by a tag-team case of la tourista. Nothing looked good for days. The Spouse remarked that the flatulence resulting from the bug was waking him up at night, and he wasn’t talking about his gas. Oh dear. How embarrassing.The good news is that my cooking has, in The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1156859375700255672006-08-29T14:47:00.000+01:002006-08-29T14:49:35.713+01:00Ah, Europe!Oh, I have been remiss about reporting all the funny things that have happened over the summer and on our various trips. Yadda, yadda, yadda. Copenhagen, Ohio, Torremolinos: it was all nice and that’s probably already more than you need to know.More interesting, to me anyhow, was the culture shock of returning, dare I say it, home where home=Bratislava. How on earth that happened, I The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1154070787178898902006-07-28T08:06:00.000+01:002006-08-29T14:56:40.163+01:00Baboo's Top 20 List, July 20061. Binky2. Ears3. Books4. Cosy bed5. Air conditioning6. TV7. Tamagotchi8. Pig-o (guinea pig)9. 20-Q (handheld game her grandfather bought for her)10. Moxy (uglydoll grandfather bought for her sister)11. Chocolate12. Bubblewrap13. Candy14. Cats15. Dogs16. Salmon17. Games18. Babies19. Skittles (This is her sister. This is huge.)20. Mama and Da21. Da's pancakesBaboo's The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1149012681775332142006-05-30T19:06:00.000+01:002006-05-31T15:56:12.546+01:00So Little to ReportYet why am I so slow and lazy about writing anything?May has flown by. It started off with a little job for the local UN office. I heard through the coconut telegraph that they were looking for a pricing agent. That is someone to gather price information around Bratislava so that they, in New York, can determine The Cost of Living here in Bratislava and adjust salaries The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1140531530657567412006-02-21T13:23:00.000Z2006-02-21T14:25:45.746ZDrinking, Dogs, and the DMVI’d like to open with someone else’s theory. I had been lamenting the earliness of the hour recently, wondering when it was no longer too early to have a glass of wine. This Wise Woman counseled me thus: “I have a theory . . .it is not drinking alone if your children are there, and it is NEVER too early to have a little something. Some people take antidepressants first The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1138644490190962502006-01-30T16:21:00.000Z2006-02-11T08:24:23.096ZBook Reports and French BashingMy French stinks, okay? It’s worse than my Spanish, which is not good.I spoke Spanish at an “advanced beginner” level when we left Argentina in 2001. Past tense was always dicey, the subjunctive was something I simply ignored, but I got things done. But 5+ years of only two weeks a year of practice has rendered me shamefully unable to produce the Spanish words for The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1137583787700117322006-01-18T11:28:00.000Z2006-01-18T11:33:49.126ZJolly Old EnglandLast year at Christmas, while we were driving around in Italy and Austria in the snow, I thought that this year I would like to have an English Christmas. So I invited myself to visit our friends, Carla and Richard, in the UK.We met these lovely people when we lived in Argentina. Now they live near Winchester in a cute English village. They were willing to have us invade them forThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1137524216333338772006-01-17T18:55:00.000Z2006-01-17T18:56:56.350ZWham, Bam, No Thank You Ma’amMy car has been a target for other drivers, collisions, and general annoyances. It started with the Annual Tune-Up And Parting Of Large Sums Of Money. They are supposed to change the oil and follow a checklist in the Owner’s Manual, which is in Slovak, so I can’t really read it. I did get new wiper blades, I noticed.So, the first Bad Thing that happened was that I gotThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1133003719684596382005-11-26T11:07:00.000Z2005-11-26T11:17:46.030ZThe Ridiculous and the Sublime: I Get a Glimpse at Some of God’s Creatures and Mock ThemMy mother-in-law arrives day after tomorrow, and I should be devoting myself to housework in preparation, but I have the Festival of Laundry underway. It takes 2 hours to run a load and the ironing is under control, so I thought I’d write a few notes about some interesting things I’ve seen and heard.At the The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1131124408849991762005-11-04T17:09:00.000Z2005-11-04T17:13:28.860ZBad Highschool FlashbackPerhaps I was jaded or my memory is shot. But if you ask me about tennis in gym class at BHS, I recall being sent out to the courts with a racquet and told to play. No coaching, nothing. I'd whack the ball, and it would go over the fence and into the street. Gym Teacher would yell at me: "You're a smart girl. When you hit the ball like that, it goes over the fence."Duh! NoThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1130764823929144232005-10-31T13:12:00.000Z2005-10-31T13:21:48.973ZThe Spouse Went to Moscow This WeekendBelow are random emails, composed on his Blackberry.Take carrots. Put them in the cuisinart. Put them on a plate. Drop some cheese -- not too much-- in and grate that. Put on top of the carrots. Take a big serving spoon of mayonnaise and put that on top in a big glop. Sprinkle with grated walnut dust. Garnish with parsley. Wash whole thing down with mineral The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1130700910526254462005-10-30T18:50:00.000Z2005-10-30T19:35:10.556ZWe Dine in BrnoWe went to a dinner in Brno on Saturday. I should back up and say first that I now belong to this gastronomy club, and you can go to events in other chapters. Well, not only do I belong, but I'm an officer. What I won't do for a good meal.Because the Bratislava chapter is fledgling, we don't have a lot going on yet. So The Spouse and I have been hitting the road. We went to a The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1130697959382481912005-10-30T18:29:00.000Z2005-10-30T18:45:59.443ZHungry in Hungary? Not LikelyYesterday was a school holiday. Both girls have time off around now, but, of course, not the same days. November 1 is All Saints’ Day, so most of Europe has that off.So we arranged with Baboo’s best friend, J, and her mom, S, to have an outing.We were going to go to see the chateaux of Lednice and Valtice, which is a UNESCO World Heritage site just over the border in The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1130479299450304842005-10-28T06:30:00.000+01:002005-10-28T07:01:39.486+01:00UPDATE: SPAIN 2005It has been so long since I posted anything, that now you are just going to get condensed and glossed over accounts of what I can remember. But I can post photos, so maybe a few pictures will say a thousand words.August means Spain, and once again we rented an apartment in Torremolinos at a complex called Costa Lago. It is where VW and I first went in 1993. Last year we had whatThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1119859145814021612005-06-27T08:56:00.000+01:002005-06-27T08:59:05.823+01:00YURT ME, YURT ME!Yesterday we went to the Camel and Donkey Festival at Schloss Hof in Austria (www.schlosshof.at). It is just over the border. In fact, from Slovakia you can see the schloss and from the schloss you can see the VW plant in Slovakia.I find out about these things because, in Austria, they put posters for local events up in every little village. Sometimes they are on billboards or The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1119722330850086842005-06-25T18:53:00.000+01:002005-06-25T19:17:12.883+01:00BEAUTIFUL VIENNAToday was one of those days where everything conspired to be so beautiful and humanity was all on its best behavior . . . I actually got a little choked up.This was the last class of the school year for Baboo’s Spanish playgroup. The Spouse was off on his office retreat (camping and canoeing near Karlovy Vary aka Carlsbad in the Czech Republic), so the girls and I were on our The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1118859230651967412005-06-15T19:04:00.000+01:002005-06-17T18:11:16.190+01:00BRATISLAVA SHIT STORM, RESOLVEDThere has been a shit storm of remarkable proportions since the magazine came out on Monday with my article about dinner with a certain performer. The article was a disaster in the making. I wrote the long version for diary purposes. Then I cut out the parts I thought make life miserable for me here in Bratislava. I sent it to the magazine editor fully expecting The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1118081754851171852005-06-06T19:13:00.000+01:002005-06-06T19:15:54.856+01:00BABOO IS 7 TODAYWhat a difference seven years makes. That little baby who has a birthday today, crawled in bed with me this morning and said, "Why couldn't the little boy see the pirate movie?"It was before 6:00 a.m., so my response was probably something like "Dunno."With a total deadpan delivery, she responds, "Because it was rated ARRR."The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1118853740907812332005-05-15T17:38:00.000+01:002005-06-15T19:44:39.216+01:00MY DINNER WITH MR GRETSKYGeoffrey leaned across the table, his voice conspiratorial and confiding. “Mr. Gretsky is coming,” he could barely contain his delight.“Who?” I stirred my coffee. Geoffrey and Lillian, local husband-and-wife restaurateurs, frequently give me tips about upcoming events that I can write about for the English-language newspaper.You don’t know of Mr. Gretsky?” Lillian arched The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1113421719849247092005-04-13T19:47:00.000+01:002005-04-14T09:07:05.110+01:00NO CHICKENPOX . . . YETAfter a bad night on Monday (I had to sleep with Skittles, which meant being knotted like a pretzel and bonking my head on the chair that is next to her bed), Skittles had a final puke about 6:00 a.m. which confirmed that she was not going to school on Tuesday.But from that point on, she did nothing but thrive: she ate constantly, she danced with her sister to Bob the The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1113246327102431342005-04-11T18:23:00.000+01:002005-04-11T20:09:51.870+01:00CHICKEN POX?Before I explain, some amusing Skittles stories.I don't think I mentioned how she managed to get to school one day with no knickers? She DID have tights on. However, she was moved to show her classmates, at lunch, her bare bum. Nice. Her father claimed, "Like mother, like daughter," but I am not known for leaving the house with no knickers. After all . . .The next day she announced, "The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1111611645609846722005-03-23T20:37:00.000Z2006-04-08T12:33:55.363+01:00THE CELLO GOES TO THE HOSPITALTOOTH FAIRY: Baboo lost a tooth today. Number 4. I have to remember to send the Tooth Fairy around. She's losing an average of two teeth a year. She was wiggling it like mad at the grocery store today, in between sessions of Eloise (she LUVS Eloise and reads huge sections of it outloud). We got back to the car and TA-DA! Out it came. No blood or anything.Reminds me The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1111085748873295102005-03-17T18:47:00.000Z2005-03-17T18:59:03.520ZFOOD CLUBI got invited to be a founding member of the Bratislava chapter of this international food club called the Confrerie de la Chaine des Rotisseurs. Something like the Fraternal Order of Roasters and Grillmen. www.chaineparis.org for the whole story.This came about because my friends, Charles and Maria, own two nice restaurants in town and they want to kick it up a notch. By that, I mean The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110552948811626162005-03-11T14:46:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:57:58.326ZOne of the things I miss about living in my own country, and did not realize I miss, is the ability to understand people, especially Really Crazy People, in public. When I do overhear English here, especially from Americans, it just sounds really loud and usually inane. In fairness, I probably sound loud and inane too. And I'm sure the Slovaks have crazy people. But Bratislava is too small for meThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110551682054001722005-03-01T14:33:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:34:42.053ZBig WeekI have four stories in the local newspaper."Bulgarians celebrate fickle March" which can be found athttp://www.slovakspectator.sk/clanok.asp?vyd=2005008&rub=spect_cult&cl=18937"Trash makes beautiful art" which can be found at http://www.slovakspectator.sk/clanok.asp?vyd=2005008&rub=spect_cult&cl=18934"Afghans face rocky future" which can be found at http://www.slovakspectator.sk/The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110549643919772922005-02-28T13:59:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:00:43.920ZI'm Pretty Sure This Qualifies Me as a BAD MOMLast week Skittles got up in the night and said she had an ear ache. This was a first. We have never had ear issues with the girls and I know nothing about it. Not sure *I* have even had an ear ache. I give her some kid pain killer. She has no fever. But I have had a cold, so I wonder if it might just be sinuses. I heat the rice sock in the microwaveThe Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110548504857965412005-02-25T13:39:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:01:20.630ZYes, I Did Go See President BushYou probably know how I feel about W, so fast forward over the rant. I was curious, however, as I have never seen a US president in any form. I thought Baboo might find it interesting. I wanted to see how the Slovaks would receive him. I wanted to see how the whole operation would work out. That said, I'm glad I went. It was hard work, but I have to say I am glad The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110551322748424792005-02-10T14:26:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:28:42.750ZBaby Group Peach Cobbler what to serve mothers who are starved for some pampering and conversation) 1/2 cup butter, melted1 cup all purpose flour2 cups sugar3 teaspoons baking powderpinch salt1 cup milkFresh peaches that you peel and sauté with one of the above cups of sugar (I use one drained can of peaches, but I'm extremely lazy.)Dash cinnamon and/or nutmeg Preheat oven to 375F. (that's 190C)The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110551146971587032005-02-07T14:23:00.000Z2005-03-17T18:57:05.566ZHOW I AMDepressed, mostly. My canaries have been dropping like flies, which isn't so unusual, but 2 of them died in the past month or so. Then yesterday my singing boy, who peeps at me when I approach the cage, apparently got stuck in the water dish while trying to splash around. I found him shortly after breakfast, dead as a mackerel. Needless to say, I sort of freaked out. I had just fed him The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1111175214765869502005-01-21T19:45:00.000Z2005-03-18T19:47:33.920ZIN WHICH I AM KIDNAPPED BY BULGARIANSThis afternoon I interviewed a British husband and wife who job share the position of Deputy Chief of Mission (that's one step behind the ambassador) at the British Embassy here in Bratislava. They were diving in the Andaman Sea on Dec 26. Actually, they felt and saw NOTHING, and did not learn the whole story til the Thai navy came by and asked if they'd like The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110550788163746862005-01-03T14:18:00.000Z2005-03-11T14:19:48.166ZWe Are the GriswaldsItaly. The Spouse's Christmas/birthday gift to me. Where we learned where the Argentines get it. The driving was hysterical. Blowing past posted speed limits, with vague interest in lane markings, through construction zones at over 100 mph. It really WAS funny. It was. But the highway is ugly at best, and we were not hopeful about the rest of the country. It was shabby and The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1099917282799758262004-11-08T12:31:00.000Z2004-11-08T12:55:14.563ZFamily Fun in a Bee-Filled Atmosphere
September 2004
Recently, we went to Špindleruv Mlýn, a Czech ski resort area two hours north of Prague, practically on the Polish border. The Spouse had a work event, so he stayed in a separate hotel.
My guidebooks all spoke rather despairingly about the area: the acid rain has devastated the landscape; the Spouse’s hotel was “an aberration.” “You can’t The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110549937363475412004-10-26T14:04:00.000+01:002005-03-11T14:05:37.366ZFashion Advice From Skittles (age 4)A little voice from the bathroom calls: "My pants have those belt things!" I can't hear: "What?" "My pants have those belt things. You can put a belt in there." I confess: "I never know what size belt to buy you." There is a pause. "My OWN size." Well, that's true.The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110816221494585732004-08-27T15:59:00.000+01:002005-03-14T16:03:41.500ZCleaning Lady HellThe following are journal excerpts, describing my difficulties finding a cleaning lady when we first arrived in Bratislava.MayI can't believe I am having such a hard time with this. I'm more and more convinced that there are some sort of cultural differences I don't understand at play here.The first cleaning lady was Edita. I found her through another expat, who, after I The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110815906721640832004-08-26T15:55:00.000+01:002005-03-14T15:58:26.726ZThe Hole in the Floor StoryThe last event worth reporting was so traumatic to me that in an effort to keep my blood pressure in line I avoided writing about it until now. So it will probably seem like no big deal and not even funny, and many of you will yawn and scan for witty remarks which I'm not promising many of this time as The Spouse is away as I write this and usually provides most of my The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110815669653837802004-06-16T15:51:00.000+01:002005-03-14T15:54:29.660ZSmelling WolfsthalThe Spouse has been riding his bike on the weekends, and usually I drive to the destination with the girls and we have lunch or something. The last time was that fish restaurant in Austria I told you about. It looks like fun and not THAT hard and I thought it would be a nice thing to do together, so he, very generously, found me a place to rent a bike. (Which, let me tell you, The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110816965982317082004-04-28T16:13:00.000+01:002005-03-14T16:16:05.986ZApril in Paris (and Two Bad Girls)I don't mean to rub it in or anything, but Paris was WONDERFUL! Like Graceland, it never disappoints.The Spouse had a meeting with a client on Monday and was planning to camp out with friends, but the friends were sort of redecorating (if it is possible to redecorate 30 sq meters) and there was no where for him to sleep, so he got a hotel and that's when I The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110816392468867852003-06-26T16:05:00.000+01:002005-03-14T16:06:32.476ZWhat’s the Story in Ballamory?Hope this finds you well and enjoying summer. Our vacation to Scotland was actually delightful, although different than previous vacations. The reason we went so early in the summer is that we do this sort of thing with another family—Richard and Carla--and this year they were unable to go in September (we have gone to Spain with them for the past two years . . . we The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110815441248016662003-06-10T15:44:00.000+01:002005-03-30T18:46:29.253+01:00Horse Riding Weekend at Lake Balaton: Horses, Hootch, and Wife BeatingLast year we spent Eldest Daughter’s birthday week in Scotland in one of those big estates you can rent through the British National Trust (www.lhhscotland.com/House63.asp). When I sent the link to a friend, he remarked that it looked like the sort of place where one stands in the doorway and announces, “Release the hounds.” The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110817758777665322003-03-24T16:26:00.000Z2005-03-14T16:29:18.783ZA couple of brief, recent events to provide you with some comic relief and a break from CNN . . .*The Chorvatsky Grob (Croatian Cemetery) Pub and SpaWe have some Canadian friends here. His family is Slovak, so they are living in a small village, Chorvatsky Grob, a few minutes outside Bratislava. He's in medical school here and simultaneously doing a PhD in medicine in Vienna.This weekend we went The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110817519721204462003-01-29T16:17:00.000Z2007-10-31T04:43:26.900ZMy Medical ProblemsMy husband says this is far and away the number one topic overheard in restaurants. I haven't had much to report lately, so I thought I'd bore you with my Surgery In A Foreign Country story. Seems I do this where ever I go.This was totally elective. We had been talking about who was going to get snipped since we are definitely done having children. And although it is a lot The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110816723247726682001-06-21T16:06:00.000+01:002005-03-14T16:12:03.256ZWHY Do I Do This?I'm having one of those bad expat days where I can't see the value in this, everything is too hard and too stupid, *I'm* too stupid . . .It started because the one toilet that's not a shelf variety wouldn't stop running. It seems every time I turn around there's another wonderful discovery about this house. I can't figure out how to fix it, so I have to turn off the water at the The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3334358.post-1110818155771518502001-06-14T16:32:00.000+01:002005-03-14T16:35:55.776ZSummer TobogganWe live very close to some sort of national forest/park system. I don't know if it belongs to Bratislava or Slovakia. But just a five minute drive from our front door are hiking trails. The Sunday before Andrew came, we decided to go for a walk before dinner. We figured we'd walk for 30 minutes on the paths and then turn around. We could eat dinner at the Mexican restaurant which The Expatressehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00127602680470789727noreply@blogger.com0