So, being positive aside, this whole moving thing can also be extremely frustrating. We were unable to open a bank account before we came, which meant that we were not able to get the telephone sorted before we came, which means we are without a landline or, horrors of horrors – the internet! And it is only when one is deprived of Mother Google, that one realises quite how often during the day, one needs her. Especially when one has just arrived in new country and needs to know EVERYTHING! It also means that all those lovely Christmas skype chats we were hoping to have with my cousin Meg and others, will not be happening – we can't even ring!
In order to get online, we have to go shopping and huddle over our devices in a cafe, and, even more frustrating is the fact that I can't go shopping without Rupert, or without asking him for money, as I have no access to bank account. I feel like a 1950's housewife, which is hardly surprising, since, the reason I cannot get a bank account is because British Gas, when confirming our new account with them, sent a lovely letter addressed to Mr and Mrs Rupert Bignall....and of course, as one would expect, one can only open a bank account with a gas bill....
Now, don't get me wrong, I am no more feminist than one would expect from a woman with five sisters and two daughters and an interest in social justice....but how DARE they assume that, because I am old fashioned enough to take Rupert's surname when I marry him, that I am also happy to take his first name!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But, be that all as it may, last night was magical. We all got rugged up and sauntered down the road, to the village Christmas tree, which was surrounded by happy villagers singing carols to a brass band accompaniment. There was mulled wine, mince pies and I had the delicious opportunity to embarrass my children by singing Christmas carols at a Christmas carol event. Afterwards we all, yup, you've guessed it, waddled down to the pub for a drink. We got to meet some of our new neighbours, who seem very nice – some of them have leant us a whole living room suite to park our bums on till our own arrive!
So, Merry Christmas, one and all, hope anyone who may read this, has a WONDERFUL day, even if you're Kory and I'm not sure whether you celebrate Christmas or not!xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx