I just realised that there is a high probability that I will be flying back with the boys to the UK next Friday. That is in SEVEN DAYS. Has the time come yet to panic? Probably. Best not to think about it I feel. Concentrate on thoughts of Thai food and sausages, ignore state of house and the fact that I haven't found yet the suitcases I need to pack the boys stuff. It'll all be alright in the end. Far better idea to get cracking on one of Kat's Dear So and So blog posts. Much more enjoyable. I can always start the packing tomorrow.
******************************
Dear Winter,
You are DONE. Dusted. Dispatched. Get ye out of here and don't come back. The snow is melted. The sun is out. The smog and pollution is lifting. As they say around here Dosta Zima! (Enough of winter). We won't miss you.
Don't even think of a final hoorah,
Fraught Mummy.
********************************
Dear Car People,
You tried your best. The old yes you have everything you need but what about another sticker on this bit of paper that we haven't told you about before line just didn't cut the mustard. You folded in the end. You have no idea how pleased I am to have the car back. Really didn't know how we were going to get all our stuff back to the UK if you hadn't got bored of us.
Yours, looking pretty mobile
FM
PS - lets not cause us any problems when we have to come and see you in about 2 weeks to sort out the export of the car...
********************************
Dear Tuzla Authorities,
Look! It's Spring! The sun is shining! Everyone is out and wants to play outside. Please please please can you open the playground now? Please?
Yours, not above begging,
FM
********************************
Dear House,
You are falling apart. The fusing of all the kitchen appliances last night was not what was required. Can you just hold it together for a few more weeks? Then we'll be gone and won't have to worry.
Yours, not very good at DIY
FM
********************************
Dear Tuzla Restaurants,
For all this time we didn't believe that any of you did delivery food. But with the failure of kitchen appliances and no way to cook supper the other night we were proved wrong. Not only is there home delivery, but you can do it all online and the pizzas were really good (Pizza Trkacica if anyone interested). Now, if we could just work on the take-away coffee concept...
Yours, enjoying the Bosanska Pizza,
FM
**********************************
Dear Mosque over the road,
Is your microphone broken? This morning I awoke to hear the call to prayer by all the other mosques but couldn't hear you (and we can't miss it when you get calling). Thinking about it earlier, I can't remember the last time I heard it. Hope you fix it soon, but if you wanted to wait until we've moved that would be fine by me too, it is an early start to the morning for us non-Muslims.
Yours, in peace
FM
************************************
Dear friends in Sarajevo,
After I drop the boys off in the UK with my brave and fearless mother (I'm not sure she has totally appreciated what she is taking on) I'm flying back to Sarajevo for a few days. Anyone around Friday April 2nd and fancy a coffee?
Yours, in excitement about a day in the big city without small children to entertain as well,
FM (except I won't be so fraught, more enjoying the swanky bars and cheese cake in the BBI Centar)
***********************************
Dear Tuzla,
You do look so much better when it isn't winter. The skies are clear, the air is so much less polluted. Everyone is having coffee outside. People are out for a stroll in the evening. Really, the spring and summer is when you are at your best. Can't believe we are going to be leaving you now. We'll miss you.
Yours, feeling a touch emotional, and deeply envious of the fun you guys have coming over the next couple of months,
FM
**********************************
Dear driver of the car that hit the dog down the road,
You were driving far too fast. And then you hit a dog, breaking its hip or leg. And then you left it there in agony. I hope you are ashamed of yourselves.
Yours, unable to talk with fury,
FM
***********************************
Dear neighbours,
It was great to see that everyone got together to help this dog, particularly as you are not, in general, a nation of dog lovers. She had shelter, blankets, food and was being kept clean. Particular gratitude to the people who came to take her to the vet, which isn't cheap. The lady in the shop said that you had said that you were going to keep her if the vet could do something for her. I hope she is ok.
Yours, still finding the life that dogs have here difficult to deal with,
FM
***********************************
Dear Mayor,
Are you building another fountain? Pretty sure that the one thing Tuzla doesn't need is any more fountains.
Yours, liking the fountains that are here but feeling there are probably enough,
FM
PS - Tuzla also has enough hairdressers, driving schools, betting shops and cafes. Just in case you were wondering.
***********************************
Dear Boys,
It is spring! How exciting is that? So now we can go outside and play football and draw rockets, go exploring in the woods in Slana Banja whilst fighting dragons and making up stories of whispering armies leading us through the canyons. I've got some new chalks for us, let's play hopscotch this afternoon. And I promise you that you will see a playground in the next two weeks. Life doesn't get more exciting than this. Oh yes it can, you can also have sausages and baked beans for supper in the next two weeks too.
Much love and kisses
Mummy xxxx
***********************************
Fancy a go yourself? Make sure you head on over to Kat's to sign up so we can all come and read them.
Friday, 19 March 2010
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
The Gallery: Black and White
I know, I know. These are different photos to the ones I had up earlier. I suddenly decided that I liked these ones more - still the same day, still the same run down. So it is a bit less of the WHITE and a bit more of the Black & White. That's the joy of it being my blog. I can do what I want. Hoorah!
Date: Christmas Day, 2008
Place: Jahorina Mountain, Sarajevo
My family came to Bosnia for Christmas 2008 and we decided to stay in Jahorina, just outside of Sarajevo. Being Christmas Day and all, we'd had an early start. The boys were so excited, and had opened the stocking presents with enthusiasm. Then there was sudden quiet, they were totally engrossed in their new toys. Mum looked at me and Dave and told us to take the opportunity and get out there; the boys were going to be easy to look after for the next hour or so and we weren't going to get a better chance that this to get some skiing in.
So we did. We were almost the first up the mountain that morning. At the top of the mountain it was a beautiful day, but freezing cold. Above the clouds, it was clear and we could see for miles. It had snowed over night and we choose a route that no one had skied yet. The snow was amazing, beautifully light and powdery, heaven on earth for the snowboarding Dave and pretty fun for me on my two skis. We raced each other down the mountain. We ski at about the same speed, are around the same standard and are both very competitive. We hadn't had so much fun in ages. It was cold, exhilarating, life affirming.
About half way down the mountain we hit the clouds. Everything went white. Dave took a tumble. Too busy laughing at him, I wasn't concentrating on what I was doing and down I went too. Served me right, Dave enjoyed it enormously.
We managed a couple of runs before putting our parent hats back on and returning our grown up responsible selves. But I'll always remember that Christmas morning, when we got to spend some time together, just the two of us, doing something we adore, having so much fun and feeling so alive.
(Week No. 3 of Sticky Fingers' Gallery prompt of COLOUR. There are some amazing pictures there, go and have a look).
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
A House of Cards
When planning to move, particularly when planning to move country, there is a lot of organisation and administration. Many, many jobs need to be undertaken, often in a particular order. It takes time and effort to bring the whole lot together.
The way we have tended to do it is to create one definite date and then build the move around it. With one definite in place, it is easier to know when things must be done by, what order they need to be done in and you can guage at what stage you should be at which time in the weeks coming up to the move.
For us, the move home is rapidly approaching. I will be flying back to the UK with the boys at the end of March and leaving them with my very brave mother whilst flying back to Bosnia in order to pack up the car and drive our wordly possessions back (if it doesn't fit in the car, it ain't coming). We booked the flights a while back and have since been building the elaborate administrative structures around that definite date to ensure that we get ourselves back. Vets have been booked to comply with the very stringent UK PETS scheme legislation for bringing animals into the country. Favours have been called in. People have rearranged their own schedules to accomodate us. Notice has been given on the house. Notice has been given our UK house. Places have been booked to stay.
And then the workers at BA announce that they will be on strike the day that we are booked. Our flight, from Belgrade, is one of those that will be affected. Our definite just became a hopefully, if you are lucky.
And down tumbles the house of cards.
PS - if you happen to see me, don't mention those poor misunderstood, underpaid, overworked BA staff. I might just spit venom and start shooting lasers from my eyes.
*********************************************
If that image of a venom spitting, laser eyed shooting fraught Mummy was a bit scary for you this early in the morning, head over to Baby Baby for the most recent Best of British Mummy Bloggers Carnival - there are 70 posts there, you'll find something you'll want to read.
The way we have tended to do it is to create one definite date and then build the move around it. With one definite in place, it is easier to know when things must be done by, what order they need to be done in and you can guage at what stage you should be at which time in the weeks coming up to the move.
For us, the move home is rapidly approaching. I will be flying back to the UK with the boys at the end of March and leaving them with my very brave mother whilst flying back to Bosnia in order to pack up the car and drive our wordly possessions back (if it doesn't fit in the car, it ain't coming). We booked the flights a while back and have since been building the elaborate administrative structures around that definite date to ensure that we get ourselves back. Vets have been booked to comply with the very stringent UK PETS scheme legislation for bringing animals into the country. Favours have been called in. People have rearranged their own schedules to accomodate us. Notice has been given on the house. Notice has been given our UK house. Places have been booked to stay.
And then the workers at BA announce that they will be on strike the day that we are booked. Our flight, from Belgrade, is one of those that will be affected. Our definite just became a hopefully, if you are lucky.
And down tumbles the house of cards.
PS - if you happen to see me, don't mention those poor misunderstood, underpaid, overworked BA staff. I might just spit venom and start shooting lasers from my eyes.
*********************************************
If that image of a venom spitting, laser eyed shooting fraught Mummy was a bit scary for you this early in the morning, head over to Baby Baby for the most recent Best of British Mummy Bloggers Carnival - there are 70 posts there, you'll find something you'll want to read.
Monday, 15 March 2010
Hack, hack, splutter, splutter
To say the Bosnians are a nation of smokers is probably an understatement. The Bosnians are a nation of enthusiastic smokers. Everyone smokes. Everyone. I can count on one hand the number of Bosnians I know who don't smoke.
It isn't so bad in the summer, everyone spends all the time outdoors so, fag ends and cigarette packets detritus apart, you don't notice it so much. But in winter, when everyone is inside with the windows tightly closed, oh lordy me, it is awful. The Bosnians smoke everywhere, restaurants, offices, buses, bars, cafes, you name it. People look in amazement when I ask them to not smoke inside our house but to go outside for their cigarette. The Americans and Europeans amongst you have probably forgotten what it is like to walk into a restaurant and be hit by a wall of cheap cigarette smoke and how horrible it is to eat your meal whilst also breathing in the fumes of the smokers next door to you. It is so ingrained, so presumed that you will be a smoker, that one friend of mine was given this piece of post-natal advice by her doctor 'Try not to smoke for 10 minutes before and after feeding your baby'.
Now the Bosnians know that smoking is not good for you and that it is an unpleasant habit for those of us who aren't smokers. But much like 1970s Britain, that is just seen as tough luck on the non-smokers. There are some no smoking areas. The boys' nursery is mainly non-smoking (but there is still quite a bit of puffing going on in the offices behind closed doors). The Mercator shopping centre (but you can smoke in the cafes there). Some offices, but not many. I can't think of any others.
I the 2 years we've been here, I've sort of got used to it. That isn't to say that I don't notice it anymore, because I do, especially in the winter, but that I expect it and am ready to deal with it. Which is why I was surprised to see this headline saying that the Croatians are bringing in a smoking ban in bars with effect from April 9th. The Croatians love their smoking as much as the Bosnians do (actually the whole of the Balkans love a good cigarette moment). The timing of this ban is clever. The weather is improving and most people will be able to sit outside and smoke so it won't really bite until the winter hits. But it does show that the Balkans are changing. Croatia, being the most European looking, is the first to move. The others will follow. They will have to.
And whilst most Bosnians roar with laughter at the thought of a smoking ban, there are signs of change. The other day I went for a meeting, myself and 3 other Bosnians. Not one person in the group had a cigarette. I had to check I was still in the right country. I was. It was the first time I had ever had a meeting with more than one Bosnian that hadn't involved a cigarette. I know more non-smokers (and ex-smokers) here than I ever did before. As I say to the Bosnians who say 'we'll never have a ban here', we never thought we would in the UK either. But we do, and it will happen in the Balkans too. Maybe not tomorrow, but it will.
It isn't so bad in the summer, everyone spends all the time outdoors so, fag ends and cigarette packets detritus apart, you don't notice it so much. But in winter, when everyone is inside with the windows tightly closed, oh lordy me, it is awful. The Bosnians smoke everywhere, restaurants, offices, buses, bars, cafes, you name it. People look in amazement when I ask them to not smoke inside our house but to go outside for their cigarette. The Americans and Europeans amongst you have probably forgotten what it is like to walk into a restaurant and be hit by a wall of cheap cigarette smoke and how horrible it is to eat your meal whilst also breathing in the fumes of the smokers next door to you. It is so ingrained, so presumed that you will be a smoker, that one friend of mine was given this piece of post-natal advice by her doctor 'Try not to smoke for 10 minutes before and after feeding your baby'.
Now the Bosnians know that smoking is not good for you and that it is an unpleasant habit for those of us who aren't smokers. But much like 1970s Britain, that is just seen as tough luck on the non-smokers. There are some no smoking areas. The boys' nursery is mainly non-smoking (but there is still quite a bit of puffing going on in the offices behind closed doors). The Mercator shopping centre (but you can smoke in the cafes there). Some offices, but not many. I can't think of any others.
I the 2 years we've been here, I've sort of got used to it. That isn't to say that I don't notice it anymore, because I do, especially in the winter, but that I expect it and am ready to deal with it. Which is why I was surprised to see this headline saying that the Croatians are bringing in a smoking ban in bars with effect from April 9th. The Croatians love their smoking as much as the Bosnians do (actually the whole of the Balkans love a good cigarette moment). The timing of this ban is clever. The weather is improving and most people will be able to sit outside and smoke so it won't really bite until the winter hits. But it does show that the Balkans are changing. Croatia, being the most European looking, is the first to move. The others will follow. They will have to.
And whilst most Bosnians roar with laughter at the thought of a smoking ban, there are signs of change. The other day I went for a meeting, myself and 3 other Bosnians. Not one person in the group had a cigarette. I had to check I was still in the right country. I was. It was the first time I had ever had a meeting with more than one Bosnian that hadn't involved a cigarette. I know more non-smokers (and ex-smokers) here than I ever did before. As I say to the Bosnians who say 'we'll never have a ban here', we never thought we would in the UK either. But we do, and it will happen in the Balkans too. Maybe not tomorrow, but it will.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
A Tribute to Mothers... our mothers. The Gratitude Tag
A while back I wrote a post about taking my boys ice-skating and how much they enjoyed it and how much I hated it. That post really struck a chord with that lovely Hong Kong blogger, Bloomin Marvelous, who wrote a post about how we don't really appreciate what our mothers did for us until we become mothers ourselves. She has a point. I had no idea how often my Mum had been up during the night, cleaned up vile smelling substances, counted to ten in her head before tackling some dreadful behaviour, stood freezing in thigh deep Arctic waters willing us to learn how to swim, until I had to do it all myself.
Bloomin Marvelous also tagged me in her Gratitude Tag to write a bit about my mother, to celebrate her and say why she is so amazing. And in the run up to Mother's Day I thought I should finally take her up on it. For much as Mother's Day is all about me in this household, it is a chance to say thanks to my Mum and sorry that I won't be there this year to join you all. Next year, I promise.
Both Mum and Dad had, shall we say, less than conventional upbringings. But somehow, they have created a really strong, close family. I can't underestimate how difficult this must have been. Everyone says that you will replicate the mistakes of your parents, but Mum didn't. She made her own decisions and created her own path and my brothers and I have been the incredibly fortunate beneficiaries of that. There was nothing that she wouldn't do for us growing up. She was always there, listening, helping, teaching. We moved about a bit, lived in other countries but Mum didn't falter. She went to another culture and carried on, creating and nuturing her family, whatever the differences and difficulties that the outside world had to throw at her. Now I am living in another culture I know how difficult that is. She did an amazing job.
She wasn't afraid to buck the system. Taking my brother and I out of school for a month because we had an opportunity to go to Africa. The school weren't happy, Mum said 'stuff them'. I remember more from that trip today than from all the rest of my primary school days put together. It was the right decision.
She's glamorous too, my Mum. I mean, she looks amazing. She has great style, I'm envious of her clothes. She's too small for me to borrow many of her clothes but if I could, I would. She is the most likely person to tell me of a new clothes shop find, or an amazing shoe shop. Most people are worried if they dress like their mothers. Me? Well I'm just thrilled if I manage to pull off that look.
Now I'm an adult. Well, there is noone else who will listen to me whitter on about my children for hours on end and still sound interested at the end of it all. No one else will sit for hours looking at different clothes on websites talking about what will suit me and when will I wear it. I'm incredibly lucky, my mother is amazing. If I can do half as good a job as her then I will be so proud with what I have achieved.
So Mum, Happy Mother's Day and I don't have the words to say how much I love you. Thank you for everything.
I offer this tag up to anyone that wants to take it up, but in particular, if they fancy it:
A Modern Dilemma
London City Mum
Mid Atlantic English
Single Parenthood, Tales from the Frontline
Notes from Lapland
Bloomin Marvelous also tagged me in her Gratitude Tag to write a bit about my mother, to celebrate her and say why she is so amazing. And in the run up to Mother's Day I thought I should finally take her up on it. For much as Mother's Day is all about me in this household, it is a chance to say thanks to my Mum and sorry that I won't be there this year to join you all. Next year, I promise.
Both Mum and Dad had, shall we say, less than conventional upbringings. But somehow, they have created a really strong, close family. I can't underestimate how difficult this must have been. Everyone says that you will replicate the mistakes of your parents, but Mum didn't. She made her own decisions and created her own path and my brothers and I have been the incredibly fortunate beneficiaries of that. There was nothing that she wouldn't do for us growing up. She was always there, listening, helping, teaching. We moved about a bit, lived in other countries but Mum didn't falter. She went to another culture and carried on, creating and nuturing her family, whatever the differences and difficulties that the outside world had to throw at her. Now I am living in another culture I know how difficult that is. She did an amazing job.
She wasn't afraid to buck the system. Taking my brother and I out of school for a month because we had an opportunity to go to Africa. The school weren't happy, Mum said 'stuff them'. I remember more from that trip today than from all the rest of my primary school days put together. It was the right decision.
She's glamorous too, my Mum. I mean, she looks amazing. She has great style, I'm envious of her clothes. She's too small for me to borrow many of her clothes but if I could, I would. She is the most likely person to tell me of a new clothes shop find, or an amazing shoe shop. Most people are worried if they dress like their mothers. Me? Well I'm just thrilled if I manage to pull off that look.
Now I'm an adult. Well, there is noone else who will listen to me whitter on about my children for hours on end and still sound interested at the end of it all. No one else will sit for hours looking at different clothes on websites talking about what will suit me and when will I wear it. I'm incredibly lucky, my mother is amazing. If I can do half as good a job as her then I will be so proud with what I have achieved.
So Mum, Happy Mother's Day and I don't have the words to say how much I love you. Thank you for everything.
I offer this tag up to anyone that wants to take it up, but in particular, if they fancy it:
A Modern Dilemma
London City Mum
Mid Atlantic English
Single Parenthood, Tales from the Frontline
Notes from Lapland
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
The Gallery: FIVE
This weeks prompt from Sticky Fingers' Gallery was a number, to be used in any way we wish. An age for example. A number. Whatever comes to mind.
I chose the number 5, for these 5 members of my family settling down for a 5pm tea after a long English sea side afternoon. We'd built sandcastles and eaten ice cream. Uncle Will had threatened to throw the boys in the water and they ran away screaming with terror and delight at the prospect. As memory serves me Uncle Will ended up in the drink, dumped there by his sister (er, me) and his girlfriend. There had been rock pooling and some game involving a bat and a ball and rules that remain unknown. And at 5pm, vibrant with windburn and fresh air, we'd gone back to the beach hut, settled in for a lovely cup of tea with some lemon drizzle cake and enjoyed the view.
I chose the number 5, for these 5 members of my family settling down for a 5pm tea after a long English sea side afternoon. We'd built sandcastles and eaten ice cream. Uncle Will had threatened to throw the boys in the water and they ran away screaming with terror and delight at the prospect. As memory serves me Uncle Will ended up in the drink, dumped there by his sister (er, me) and his girlfriend. There had been rock pooling and some game involving a bat and a ball and rules that remain unknown. And at 5pm, vibrant with windburn and fresh air, we'd gone back to the beach hut, settled in for a lovely cup of tea with some lemon drizzle cake and enjoyed the view.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
Women's Day and special post surprises
Yesterday was International Women's Day. It always takes me by surprise here, for us Brits don't really celebrate it. The Bosnians however, they go to town. It is huge here. You couldn't move yesterday for men carrying flowers and trinkets off to see their mother, wife, sister to say thank you, you are appreciated. Every single person I met yesterday wished me luck and gave me a big kiss, occasionally a little alarming but all very genuine. It seems that the popularity of Woman's Day is not limited to Bosnia either, the fascinating Paradise Lost in Translation blogging from Albania wrote about it yesterday in her post Women's Day which is well worth a read.
Needless to say Woman's Day didn't have that much of an impact in our house. The boys gave me some chocolate that nursery had given them to give to me, and promptly ate it themselves when I wasn't looking. Dave muttered something about manufactured holidays. Ah well. I didn't care, because my very first Secret Post Club parcel had arrived, from that irrepressible Rosie Scribble. It had all sorts in it, things to pamper myself with (very exciting), things to keep the boys occupied whilst I did so (very exciting) and a post card of my home town to remind us what we are missing. It's very beautiful, my home town, and as yesterday was grey, miserable, pollution filled and generally vile in Tuzla it was a real treat to be reminded of what we are going back to. So a huge thank you to Rosie for lightening up my day and not making me feel so left out as everyone else received their Women's Day gifts.
For those who don't know about it the Secret Post Club was started by Heather at Notes From Lapland. Anyone can join. These are the rules:
I have enjoyed making my parcels too. Last month Battling On was the surprisingly early recipient of a Bosnian parcel, the post taking only 3 days to get from Tuzla to the UK which is a new record. She wrote about it here.
This month I've been hunting around Tuzla and came across a very interesting centre which uses art as a way to help people deal with the trauma they suffered during the war. Sadly I could only buy some very small pieces of art that they've done as it was the only things that would fit into an envelope but they do amazing decorations on windows and bottles, large canvasses and the artists who participate find their work very helpful. I hope that my recipient likes it, the parcel was posted yesterday. Here's hoping it gets to the UK before we do.
Needless to say Woman's Day didn't have that much of an impact in our house. The boys gave me some chocolate that nursery had given them to give to me, and promptly ate it themselves when I wasn't looking. Dave muttered something about manufactured holidays. Ah well. I didn't care, because my very first Secret Post Club parcel had arrived, from that irrepressible Rosie Scribble. It had all sorts in it, things to pamper myself with (very exciting), things to keep the boys occupied whilst I did so (very exciting) and a post card of my home town to remind us what we are missing. It's very beautiful, my home town, and as yesterday was grey, miserable, pollution filled and generally vile in Tuzla it was a real treat to be reminded of what we are going back to. So a huge thank you to Rosie for lightening up my day and not making me feel so left out as everyone else received their Women's Day gifts.
For those who don't know about it the Secret Post Club was started by Heather at Notes From Lapland. Anyone can join. These are the rules:
- You will be matched to both a sender and a receiver each month.
- On the 1st of the month I'll send you an email with the details of the person to whom you need to send something.
- You won't know who is posting you a parcel until it arrives - please don't spoil the surprise by telling the recipient or dropping hints and clues before it gets there.
I have enjoyed making my parcels too. Last month Battling On was the surprisingly early recipient of a Bosnian parcel, the post taking only 3 days to get from Tuzla to the UK which is a new record. She wrote about it here.
This month I've been hunting around Tuzla and came across a very interesting centre which uses art as a way to help people deal with the trauma they suffered during the war. Sadly I could only buy some very small pieces of art that they've done as it was the only things that would fit into an envelope but they do amazing decorations on windows and bottles, large canvasses and the artists who participate find their work very helpful. I hope that my recipient likes it, the parcel was posted yesterday. Here's hoping it gets to the UK before we do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
