In the Know (Not)

I changed school three times during my school career, and none of the changes were as part of a cohort of pupils moving onto their next stage.  Even my move into secondary school was out by one term from the peers I left behind, and by two terms from the peers I joined.  Don't try to work that last sentence out, just believe me it was a muddle.

Most of my school career I spent feeling like I was running to keep up.  It seemed like everyone was in the know and I had somehow missed the most recent broadcast.  I always put this down to turning up two terms too late, even though I stayed in my secondary school to the bitter end, a total of six years plus that most notable extra term.

I have been reflecting on this recently not, as you might expect, as a result of my kids "trying out" their soon-to-be-new school in Budapest.  No, I like to blame my parents for turning me into a befuddled case, but I duck out of the blame game when the roles are shifted.  Actually, it was as a result of my own sense of having missed the latest newsflash last Saturday, before we had even set off for a visit to Budapest.  This was when, bedecked in my orange flowery poncho and matching orange hat, I found that no one else (except a couple of lads dressed as a monkey and his banana: was I glad to see them) seemed to be bothering with carnival in Maastricht that day.  Maybe sticking "Nee Nee" on my letterbox is bearing consequence.*

The Doctor and I were greatly confused by the empty bars, certainly cleared for partying (just not yet, or maybe already: who were we to know?).  We were certain that, when we lived in Maastricht itself the revelry began at least on Saturday (not to mention Thursday, for those prepared to dress up as old ladies) and went on for several days (it certainly felt like too many when we lived in the thick of it).  To add to the embarrassment, we had invited a couple of friends, one who was game and was bedecked in her pink sunglasses and hair attachments, and one who found the whole carnival thing bizarre and was only coming along because he was (newly) married to the pink-bedecked-other-half.  We put it down to the weather, but someone could have told us...

Interestingly, The Doctor had a straightforward school career and, despite his general self-assuredness, I can still catch him double checking the facts and hoping he has all of them to hand before he makes the plunge into something that could be costly, at least in the face-saving economy.  So I feel it is time for me to try out some new-fangled technology and set up my first ever blog-poll (see left panel).  Are you in the know??

Finally, it is perhaps time to confess that this week we probably have damaged our children.  Not because they have been dragged halfway across Europe to get acquainted with their new life.  But because, as they always suspected, their parents (notably foreign parents) are most definitely not in the know, even in the country they have lived in for almost nine years.  Upon our return from the carnival or lack of such, The Lawyer went upstairs and washed his face of his spy moustache and beard.  Historic note: this was the first time he had washed his face unasked.  And no doubt there is another lawsuit heading our way.

*In the Netherlands, there is a potential of several million circulars dropping through your door, and a couple of hundred free newspapers, every week.  In the name of the environment, or your own sanity, you can choose to opt out of these freebies, which I have done recently.  But no one told me that meant getting a phone book would prove a challenge (can you not have "Ja to information that is actually useful" stuck to your letterbox?), not to mention carnival goings-on.