8:01 pm - Sunday, August 20 2017

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War Child

War Child

The house purchase is moving ahead at the expected snail’s pace.  Except a snail, relative to this process, moves at light speed.  I can’t believe it’s going to take four weeks to buy the apartment.  FOUR WEEKS!  I mean, it wouldn’t take a snail four weeks to get to where HE’S going… You know, assuming he successfully avoids predatory birds and tempting slug pellets.  But NO, for Adam and me it’s FOUR LONG EXCRUCIATING WEEKS.  Because god knows I can’t resist a good slug pellet… so wrong blue… so tasty *crunch, crunch*.  Damned snail… so fast… *munch, munch*… Where was I?  Ah, yes.

Adam and I have a meeting on Monday with our mortgage man to confirm that we will indeed be receiving the promised soul and first-born contract funds from the bank.  It also gives me a chance to ask said mortgage man the same questions that I asked when we last met.  Because I’m a bit thick and I don’t really remember what he said before.  It seems that when it comes to Dutch laws and big money-borrowing, I go a bit soft in the turnip.  I’m do have a vague sense of what’s happening, but if anyone were to quiz me on exactly how much we’re getting, what the other services and middle men get, and how much the bank earns in the end, I would definitely be revealed as a fraud.  And probably snapped up by a Wall Street headhunter. “This girl knows nothing! Let’s give her a bank to run!”

Really, I’ve always viewed myself as good with money (that’s enough snickering, you miscellaneous family members), but I have to admit that for me, being good with money simply means that my limbs have never been broken by a loan shark heavy.  If I’m honest with myself, I’d say that I’m happiest when my bank balance is neutrally buoyant.  Neither too much nor too little money.  We all know what too little money means, but what’s too much?  God only knows.  Don’t tell Adam, but all I know is that whenever I have money I just want to give it away.  To friends in the form of gifts, to universities for expensive pieces of paper, to airlines for cramped legs and swollen feet, to charities.

Speaking of charities, my embryonic ensemble, OperaDans will be raising money for War Child this year. War Child is an agency that works to help children affected by war all over the world.  They often use arts and music to help children cope with and get through their awful experiences.  War Child has offices in The Netherlands, the UK, and Canada (all countries near and dear to my heart), and aims:

To alleviate the suffering of children by bringing material aid into war zones.

To support those children who have been evacuated into refugee camps.

To initiate rehabilitation programmes once children return safely to their homes.

To be instrumental in healing the psychological damage caused to children by their experiences of war.

Here’s hoping OperaDans’ shows make lots of money!… So I can give it away.


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