Well nothing overly exciting to report. Pretty much just working. I did find a car...definitely not a brand spanking new shiny expensive automobile. No no, far from it. it is an older Mercedes that unfortunately is a stick shift, but a good Point A to Point B kind of car. I had to kind of laugh; so I pay for the car and we wait in line and go from one window to the next (that is the way of doing it here...you pay for it, and both the old owner and new owner go to register the car together. So we went from one window to do the first thing, then to the next window for me to pay, then on to the next window to out-process the stuff we had done at the first two windows. I suppose it psychologically makes people think they aren't waiting as long if they go to three different windows. At any rate, it took about an hour or so to complete the process.
So I proudly go out to put my German plates on my little POS Mercedes and go to drive off into the sunset (OK not really the sunset, actually I was driving off to go to the post office and pick up my much ignored mail). I did OK, considering that other than the test drive I really haven't driven a stick shift in a long long time, but then, as I was going to make a left turn into the post office parking lot my horn beeped. "What the heck!" I figured I must have just somehow it the horn. So I go in and get my mail and come toddling out, get in the car, turn the key and the horn starts honking. OK, the car did not do this when I test drove it...not once. Was my newly bought car possessed and should have been named Christine?
Luckily, it stopped and I sat there thinking what in the world have I gotten myself into. Also luckily, I hadn't paid much for the car...my theory was that I could rent a car for two months for basically the price of the car, so even if it wasn't a long term solution, it would get me around. So I started on my way to get my ESSO card from the shoppette. As I was turning, left, into the parking lot the horn went off again (just quick beep). OK, this was going to be annoying if it kept up. I go in to get the card and of course I cant because the registration hadn't been processed yet, so I went to go back to lodging. Next thing I know I am waiting at the gate to get off base (yes, you have to drive off base in order to go down the street a bit in order to get back on base...crazy, I know) and the silly horn starts blaring. HOW embarrassing! Then it just stopped. I am sitting there thinking to myself what kind of mess have I gotten myself into? But then the horn just stopped and it didn't do it again, and actually hasn't since. I have a feeling there is probably a loose connection that just happened to get pulled in just the right way before...so fingers crossed, it has re-positioned itself and I wont have that problem again.
This is my Mercedes POS:
Let's see, last night I went with a few people to see a "cabaret" show at one of the other bases. It wasn't bad. It was basically this one woman (who happens to be a teacher on the other base) who has been in plays and musicals since she was a kid and it was somewhat her one woman show. It was titled "Life upon the wicked stage" and she told tales of various situations she has been in associated with being on the stage. The show also included her singing a lot of the songs from various shows she had been in. She could definitely sing well and the show had its comical side. Definitely beat just sitting around doing nothing for the night, so I am glad that Donna and Carol invited me along. It didn't hurt that we went to dinner before the show...believe it or not, we went to a Mexican food restaurant that is owned by an Italian in a German village, and it wasn't half bad. Actually, either I am just tired of microwaved food or it was pretty good tasting (perhaps a mixture of both).
Then today I had an appointment to go see a house in Kindsbach. The pictures on the housing ad looked good, it was roomy with a fenced yard, etc. So Deb and I took the little drive over to Kindsbach in hopes of being able to find a place to live that would allow me to feel more normal (there is only so much time one can live in a "hotel" room before you start feeling so odd (you know, you cant do any cooking, you don't have all your stuff, etc). We get to the house and it looks really good outside. There are apple trees and grape vines with grapes growing on them. As we enter the house there are beautiful marble tiles on the foyer and a beautiful leaded glass door. Kind of an odd smell as we walked in, but still we looked on.
So we go into the first bedroom which is next to the living room. Then out onto a deck that is off the living room. As we walk out there are two cats on the deck. One was actually a pretty black and white cat, and the other was a calico. Deb noticed what looked like a strange doggie door on the door leading out and so she said something about wondering if it would be big enough for Luigi. I mentioned that it was an unusual doggie door and the owner said no it wasn't a dog door. Dogs were not allowed (I was sure the ad had stated that pets were allowed). Then she says, no, no dogs, not with the cats. It seemed odd but we continued to look anyway; what the heck we were there. So we went up the spiral staircase to the upper level which included the dining room, kitchen, and two bedrooms. Then something clicked and so we asked the owner what she had meant about no dogs because of the cats.
I swear I have never heard of anything like this in my life...the owner expected that if you rented the house you also had to take care of the two cats. Its one thing to decide to feed an outside cat...when I am allowed to have my dog (although I would still think that was odd too) but to expect that you take care of their inside and outside cat and not be allowed to have your dog...while you pay rent for their house and I am sure the cost of the cat food and litter were not part of the rent...ODD! No other word works for it.
Needless to say, I passed on the house. Sure I like my daughters cat. Lily is OK for a cat. But I don't want a cat around, and definitely not two...and somehow the owner seemed to think it odd that I didn't want to take care of the cats. Odd, odd indeed! Oh well, back to the house search. I swear for a country that loves their dogs so much (they are allowed to take their dogs in stores, in restaurants, to the zoo...you name it) they don't seem to allow renters to have their dogs. If I didn't concern myself with finding someplace that Luigi could live at the house hunt would be so simple. Darn their double standards.
On a funny note, it seems that my dog, Luigi, who rarely liked to go upstairs, usually preferring to sleep in the basement or the first level has now taken to sleeping upstairs in Alex and Phoenix's room (Luigi is staying with Heather, Dale and the boys for now). I guess Luigi likes sleeping up there now and Phoenix has taken to sleeping on the floor with him. To tell the truth, the thing that shocks me most in this is that Luigi doesn't get up on the bed and sleep on the pillow LOL. Heather sent me this picture...leave it to my dog and my grandson :)