Animals have an amazing way of weaving themselves into our lives and our hearts. I’m sure most people don’t even realize how deeply they love their animals until they are forced to part ways with them one way or another. Whether it’s a loyal dog, a squawking bird, or in my case – a gorgeous but sometimes wretched little diva of a cat…they all find a way to turn us into a blubbering mess when it comes time to say goodbye.
Since we’ve arrived in Belgium I’ve found myself in a stunningly beautiful city with an overwhelming number of pictures on hand – but not a lot to say. I could point out some attractions and tell you about the delightful food for days on end. But it wouldn’t be anything Rick Steves couldn’t tell you just as easily (and probably more eloquently). It wasn’t until last night as I was sitting on our couch literally sobbing over having to choose an apartment here in Brussels that I realized I had something that would be good for me to put into words. My obsession with all things “old” and the crazy it can apparently bring out in me. Get ready kids…I mean some real crazy.
We’re finally here!!!! We got in yesterday morning after a long (and thanks to E, somewhat nightmarish) overnight flight. We took yesterday to settle in to our temporary housing and sleep off some of the jet lag. After our shipment of belongings arrived today we hopped on a bus to the city center and took in some of the sights…and the waffles…and the frites.
Today was the last day in our house. Last night I thought to myself, “I got this. I’m totally going to keep my shit together tomorrow.” Yeah…I cried on 3 separate occasions before 10am. I looked out our bedroom window and recalled how happy that crappy little view made me the first night we Continue reading
Not so long ago I read Marie Kondo’s Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. While perhaps “life changing” is a bit of a stretch I’d definitely recommend it. As a person who has always had an innate ability to find a reason to keep just about anything, I found myself suddenly able to throw away things I’d been hoarding for ages. Those jeans from freshman year of college that I was going to fit back into (I have quite the imagination), the blurry scenery photos from an unknown locale of an unknown vacation, an instruction manual for a 4 year old blender, an expensive pair of 5″ stilettos… Continue reading
The distance from Milwaukee, WI to Brussels, Belgium is 4092 miles. Hence the title of this here little blog. You may be wondering, “hey lady…this blog is pretty boring, when does this adventure start?” That’s a great question dear reader and the truth is I haven’t got a f*cking clue. Theoretically our background checks will arrive tomorrow. Then we just need my husbands Belgian work permit, a 3-legged unicorn, and a permission slip from Jesus to get our visas. No big deal. Continue reading
If I told you that I always dreamed of living in Milwaukee…well, that would make me a liar. As a matter of fact, if you had asked me 6 years ago to make a list of the top 30 or even 50 places I’d like to live I think Milwaukee probably would have been somewhere around, oh I’d say #135. Sure, I smuggled a flask of vodka into Summerfest in my pants in college and don’t get me wrong, I had a blast – but who would actually want to live there? It had a reputation of being dirty, dangerous, and generally terrible. My boyfriend was a junior at University of Wisonsin-Madison when he was offered an accounting job at a large firm in downtown Milwaukee. It was a great job and we were just happy for our future together, cuz you know love is love where ever you are and all that sappy stuff. So a year later we packed up our few scraggly college-kid belongings and headed for the Brew City. Continue reading
Lately I’ve thought a lot about what home means. Growing up we never owned a home. We didn’t have much money and my mom and I moved from rental to rental. They weren’t ours but I recall them fondly…the house in the country that I remember so well, despite being all of three years old, the daybed in my grandmas basement, the upstairs room of the brick farmhouse where I listened to coyotes at night, the tiny downstairs apartment just outside of town. While none of them were permanent my mom always made them feel like home for me. Continue reading