Thursday, July 28, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Re-pack
This morning Peter bought new, sturdy boxes and tonight we repacked everything in the space of about 2 hours. It's way more organized and way more secure. Perhaps the substandard boxes and feckless Fed-Ex man were actually a blessing in disguise? I think we'll probably think so when we unpack next week.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Apost--what??
We've had a million things to do to get ready for this move. Most of them are pretty trivial, buying a pair of shoes, packing, taking M to the doctor, saying goodbye to friends. Today I took care of one of the more serious errands: obtaining apostille seals on all of our documents issued by the state of New York.
Never heard of it? You aren't alone. I mentioned it to my sister, the former lawyer and foreign law expert, and she had only a vague recollection of what it is. So, here is your civics lesson for the day: it's a certification of documents for international use. Sort of like an international notarization.
All in all it was a pretty easy thing to do. I ordered a long form birth certificate of M's online and had a copy of our marriage certificate. I looked up the procedure online and new that the secretary of state (for New York, not Hillary Clinton) has an office downtown. So, I happily turned up and learned that I had the wrong type of marriage certificate and needed to get both docs notarized first. OK, I was undeterred, despite the 95 degree heat and oppressive humidity, and having neither a map nor more than a passing understanding about the geography of downtown. But, I had checked google maps (suspecting that the marriage certain might not be the right type) and asked a friendly cop. Thankfully, Mairtin was having fun at camp, since it would have been the dreaded combination of hot, boring and a long walk, all coming dangerously close to nap time.
Marriage bureau, check! City clerk, check! At first I was looking at it as a scavenger hunt, then I had an elaborate fantasy about being on The Amazing Race. Sure, I knew I could make it back to the secretary of state's office faster than those two overweight middle aged women, but could I beat that blonde guy? Turns out, him not knowing he was on The Amazing Race worked in my favor, and I was out the door at 11:30, ahead of him. How much ahead I didn't stick around to find out.
Peter's day didn't meet with as much success. Our move fell apart--literally--the boxes disintegrated between our apartment and the truck, so tomorrow we'll be buying more appropriate boxes and repacking for a pick up re-do on Saturday.
Never heard of it? You aren't alone. I mentioned it to my sister, the former lawyer and foreign law expert, and she had only a vague recollection of what it is. So, here is your civics lesson for the day: it's a certification of documents for international use. Sort of like an international notarization.
All in all it was a pretty easy thing to do. I ordered a long form birth certificate of M's online and had a copy of our marriage certificate. I looked up the procedure online and new that the secretary of state (for New York, not Hillary Clinton) has an office downtown. So, I happily turned up and learned that I had the wrong type of marriage certificate and needed to get both docs notarized first. OK, I was undeterred, despite the 95 degree heat and oppressive humidity, and having neither a map nor more than a passing understanding about the geography of downtown. But, I had checked google maps (suspecting that the marriage certain might not be the right type) and asked a friendly cop. Thankfully, Mairtin was having fun at camp, since it would have been the dreaded combination of hot, boring and a long walk, all coming dangerously close to nap time.
Marriage bureau, check! City clerk, check! At first I was looking at it as a scavenger hunt, then I had an elaborate fantasy about being on The Amazing Race. Sure, I knew I could make it back to the secretary of state's office faster than those two overweight middle aged women, but could I beat that blonde guy? Turns out, him not knowing he was on The Amazing Race worked in my favor, and I was out the door at 11:30, ahead of him. How much ahead I didn't stick around to find out.
Peter's day didn't meet with as much success. Our move fell apart--literally--the boxes disintegrated between our apartment and the truck, so tomorrow we'll be buying more appropriate boxes and repacking for a pick up re-do on Saturday.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
It all started almost two decades ago. I took a job in Dominica and got a taste for the international lifestyle and learned to drive on the left. Then I met an Irishman. We married 3 days after he emigrated to the US and were really happy in New York, raising a preschooler in our newly-purchased co-op. Then one day he came home with a huge adventure: Moving to Amsterdam.
We considered and thought and discussed. Then we decided: when life presents this type of opportunity you don't say no. No matter how scary or personally inconvenient it may be, you don't say no.
So, here I sit, in our apartment which we've owned for just over a year, among several gigantic boxes, starting a blog to chronicle what's to begin in 3 days. Our move to Amsterdam.
We considered and thought and discussed. Then we decided: when life presents this type of opportunity you don't say no. No matter how scary or personally inconvenient it may be, you don't say no.
So, here I sit, in our apartment which we've owned for just over a year, among several gigantic boxes, starting a blog to chronicle what's to begin in 3 days. Our move to Amsterdam.
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