In a way, that was good: wednesday we would get our new PhD student Rob. And there would be a welcome-dinner. By chance the Durham postdoc on this project, the sort of mirror position to mine, would come the very same day to sub-sample our Iceland treasures. So that would nicely fit.
And then I got email. Prognosis: 7 PM arrival of the moving lorry! Horrible timing, that. Too early to first go to the dinner, which would take place at Roland's, and too late to first do the moving and then come afterwards. At least I could pick up Tasha, the Durham postdoc, from the railway station.
And then the driver did answer the phone. New ETA: half past six! And when I phoned again to verify he came with a helper he casually mentioned he meant half past six Norwegian time! That changed things. I was going to meet up with Tasha in the Kirkby Place pub, take her to Roland's and then abscond, but instead we now all went to the pub, had a beer, and then I left in the directon of home.
The drivers were punctual. And nice blokes! I had been somewhat confused when I addressed the driver by phone in Norwegian, and his response had been "we kunnen ook gewoon Nederlands praten, toch?". So then I assumed they had rented a Dutch company. But no. The guy coincidentally was Dutch while living in Norway (the lucky bastard!) and his companion was a real Norwegian citizen. So we did the communication in Norwegian!
They came with a huge truck, that consequently was almost empty. Here my couch and cupboard can be seen, ready for being carried in.
And then the actual moving. Not even that much work! I directed almost everything into the bedroom, enabling a potentially rapid transformation of the living room into an acceptably nice, tidy and cosy place. With the result that the bedroom was rather full.
But that was not a major concern. In 1.5 hours all was in place. I shook hands with the movers and took off. Rolandward ho! In the garden I changed into a not-too-sweaty shirt and rung the bell. It was good to have a nice meal and several liters of water after running up and down the stairs with boxes in your hands for a while! And the new (whether temporary or not) people turned out to be lovely.
So I got to celebrate my stuff with my near colleagues, and Roland's female relatives. His mother, who was in town in the honour of Maria's graduation, was glad to have someone to talk Dutch to, and his daughter unexpectedly sat on my lap for ages without panicking over my non-identicality with Maria, but happily pulling my very suitable hair. It was good!
And at the end of the evening I for the last time went to the house of the PhD ladies, intending to sleep a last night, and then empty the house of my scant belongings. The night after should be my debut at my own place!
Those Dutchies are everywhere, even in England when they're supposed to be in Norway.
And... someones daughter sat on your lap for ages ?? What has happened to your not-so-childtolerant attitude?
It seems Maria was not so keen on children herself before she got one... so she empathises, and does not force the kid onto me. Maybe that helped. And Rosa is a low threshold baby. But indeed, strange things are happening to me!
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