Caliban - Opinion and Righteous Anger

The gardeners were here again yesterday to give our garden its last major push towards completion.

The chief task yesterday was to install the lighting. We've had small lights placed in the wooden steps that lead from the kitchen door to the patio, plus larger lights around the patio and along the path towards the gate.

We had to wait for it to go dark yesterday in order to appreciate the effect, but it was nice and conferred the atmosphere we were looking for.

The lighting in question is 12V LED lighting, so it doesn't use a lot of power. We have it connected to a twilight sensor, so that it turns on automatically after sunset. You can control how long it stays on after that.

We're still waiting for a couple of spotlights to be placed at the base of two of our trees, which will further add to the atmosphere. Those are 220V, so I'll need a qualified electrician to place those.

Eloïse now has some tree bark at the foot of her climbing frame's ladder, so she can now climb the ladder without having to tread in soil. She could already go up using the rope slope, but now she has the option of the ladder, too. A sprinkler head near the foot of the ladder was moved out of the way today and should be more effective now.

The remainder of the plants have been placed, too. There may still be one more plant to place; I'm not sure; but things are starting to look finished now.

In the evening, our Unopiù garden furniture arrived on the back of a very large lorry from Germany. The delivery men didn't speak a word of English, so I had to haul my notoriously bad bisschen Deutsch out of the mothballs.

The lorry had spent some seven hours on the road en route from Bad Kissingen and didn't arrive until 19:30. I had begun to doubt whether I had properly understood the German phone conversation the day before when we were arranging the drop-off.

Anyway, the old garden furniture has now made way for the new stuff, consisting of a large teak table, eight chairs and a very large rectangular parasol. The spokes of the parasol are so long that it can't be fully closed, so we may end up exchanging it for the circular model, but it looks lovely when open.

Eloïse was very excited by the new furniture when she came down this morning and has been keen to eat all of her meals out there today.

Now we just need a few guests to come over and enjoy the patio with us. The weather is set to continue getting warmer and I just hope it's still good when Tony and Bernie get here next month.

Soon after Sarah's folks arrived for their most recent visit, our downstairs toilet started to behave rather strangely. It was behaving as if it was blocked: when flushed, the water would rise towards the top of the bowl and it would take a long time to sink again.

By the late evening, however, the problem appeared to have remedied itself. The toilet would flush almost normally again. The next morning, too, the toilet was still behaving well, but in the course of the day, it would slowly start to show signs of being blocked again.

As the days went by, the problems continued. I hoped they would disappear as suddenly and mysteriously as they had appeared, but it wasn't to be. The symptoms started to become more severe. I'd hear the pump in the cupboard under the stairs grinding away, trying to move water around, but unable to. The same cupboard, which also happens to house much of my computer equipment, started to emit the perspicuous odour of foetid shit. My imagination started to run riot.

Meanwhile, the upstairs toilets continued to flush apparently normally. Even the one in the cellar continued to work normally, but I believe that one follows a separate pipe to the street.

By the end of the bank holiday weekend, it was evident that the problem wasn't going to fix itself, so I brought a plumber in. After tracing a few pipes and listening to my description of the symptoms, he advised me that there was a strong likelihood the source of the problem was located outside the house.

Once he'd left, I called the local water board and asked for a technician to come and investigate the problem. They agreed to send someone as soon as possible and, sure enough, a couple of hours later, a couple of blokes dressed in orange overalls turned up at the front door. I was impressed with the quick response.

Within minutes, they'd opened up the manhole in the street and were studying their drawings to see which pipe led to which neighbouring house. I went outside to talk to them. They quickly made an interesting discovery: none of the pipes in the manhole appeared to be coming from our house.

A few weeks ago, the pavement right outside our neighbour's house had been dug up by the water board, apparently to lay new pipes. The suspicion of the men investigating our problem was that one of our pipes had then been mistaken for the neighbour's, and that it had been erroneously curtailed.

The net result of this was that we were apparently no longer connected to the sewage system! A full camera investigation of the sewer failed to locate a pipe leading from our house.

The theory certainly concurred with the symptoms. If our cut-off pipe now led straight into the subterranean sand and we were truly flushing our toilets, baths and showers straight into that, the liquid would take a long while to seep into the ground. That would explain why, late at night and first thing in the morning, the toilet would appear to flush normally again, as the path along our pipe would have had a chance to clear. Over time, though, it was clearing less and less well, as toilet paper and other, er, crap, collected at the pipe's base.

In the course of a day, the higher water usage during daylight hours would fill the pipe more quickly than the water could disperse and the symptoms would reappear. Sinks and toilets would glug, flushing the toilet would fill the bowl, the sound of the cellar pump grinding away at seemingly arbitrary moments could be heard, etc.

The fact that it had taken several weeks since the work on the neighbour's pipes before we had encountered any problems also made sense to the men in orange. They said that it would take a few weeks for the blockage to build up to the point that we would start to suffer its ill effects.

The men with strong accents made some phone calls and informed me that a team of workers would be back in the morning to dig up the street, find the cause of the problem and fix it.

I arranged with them that I would park my car across the relevant area of the street that evening to reserve it for their use the next day. That way, we could avoid having to have the council place signs announcing the work several days in advance, which is the way things usually work here.

True to their word, a team of men turned up with heavy equipment the very next day, just after eight o'clock. Within no time, a large amount of street and pavement had been dug up and the source of the problem located.

Since the street was now wide open anyway, the water board made use of the opportunity to remove the old, porous clay pipes and replace them with shiny new PVC pipes. We were now better off than before the emergence of our problem.

Just over three hours after they had first shown up and started digging, the hard-working fluorescent men were finished and shovelling the last of the sand back into the trenches. A van from the council was standing by to replace the cobblestones once the water board left.

I took photos of the whole event, because I couldn't believe how quickly so much manpower and material had been mobilised to fix a problem -- albeit a serious one -- for a single household. Of course, they were only fixing their own mistake, but I was still very impressed with the response. It must have cost several thousand euros to do the work, which had also been given priority over whatever else the team in question had been scheduled to do that day.

Petje af, Waternet!

Air-conditioning, ah... Something of a rarity in private residences in this country, but with the current minor heatwave we've been experiencing, more of a practical necessity than luxurious decadence.

They say the current hot spell will continue until after the weekend. You don't hear me complaining.

We've placed an order for some brand, spanking new garden furniture from Unopiù. This Italian garden furniture shop doesn't have many branches outside of Italy, but we're lucky to have one within walking distance, on the far side of the Vondelpark on the Stadhouderskade.

Sarah and I went there on Monday and picked out a table, eight chairs, a parasol and a few odds and ends. A small fortune, one way or another, but the teak table and chairs should last us many years and provide us with a great deal of pleasure.

I wish we'd ordered this stuff a few weeks ago. The delivery time is two to three weeks, so we probably won't have it before Sarah's folks, who arrive this weekend, return to the States. We may get lucky, though, and have it for the last few days of their stay.

Speaking of the garden, Eloïse has had her first run down the new slide, although we're supposed to let the grass sods go another week before they're trampled by small feet.

The apple tree is in full bloom now, and many of the plants recently placed in the garden have taken and are starting to thrive. By the end of the summer, things should be looking really great out there.

The temperature here is supposed to rise by the weekend and the weather report claims next week will be more like summer than spring, so I'm hoping we'll get to sit out there and enjoy the new surroundings with Sarah's folks, while Eloïse plays on her new frame.

Schiphol experienced its busiest day of the year yesterday, as 170,000 passengers milled through the airport and headed off on their way.

It's the start of the May holiday here, which this year includes Koninginnedag (the queen's birthday), and Hemelvaartsdag (Ascension Day). That means workers only have to take three days off work to get a nine day consecutive run, so many people have decided to go on holiday this week.

We were originally planning to be a part of this group ourselves, and go to England today to visit Fenella et al in Cornwall. Time is short, however, as Sarah's folks arrive next weekend, so we'd need to be back by then.

Car, plane and train all seemed inappropriate for this trip. Lucas isn't yet used to travel and we were reluctant to start him off with a trip that, one way or another, would mean quite a long day in transit. He's still so young and tiny at the moment, and I feel that we need to stay close to the nest for at least another few weeks.

Not only that, but there are things going on at home, too. The garden, for example.

Yesterday, Eloïse 's climbing frame was delivered and installed; and today, the lawn sods were laid down on top of chicken wire (to thwart the moles), thereby rendering the initial laying of the garden more or less complete.

As I've written before, we have yet to put in the new lighting and there are a few places where plants and flowers are still missing, but this should all be taken care of in a matter of weeks. We've started looking for new garden furniture and may already have found something appropriate. We'll know in a few days.

We had beautiful weather today. The Vondelpark was teeming with people. When I got home from having my hair cut, Eloïse was standing atop her climbing frame and clearly enjoying herself.

She spent the rest of the afternoon riding around the garden path and patio area on her outdoor tricycle. She, for one, is clearly going to get a lot of use and enjoyment out of the garden.

The sods need a week or two to settle without being trampled underfoot, so we're going to have to try and keep Eloïse off them. The problem with that is that the slide of her climbing frame lands on the grass. We'll have to see how well we can control her tomorrow.

Well, not quite just yet, but it's coming alone nicely now.

The pathway paving is more or less complete, lots of soil has been strewn on the borders and today, work is being done on a new geveltuin along our perimeter wall.

A geveltuin is a border garden, commonly placed along the facade of a building, but, as in our case, sometimes also along a perimeter wall. They're very popular here, not least because, for many city dwellers, it's the only kind of garden they're able to have. The local council will also do the work to lay one for free, as it's seen as increasing the allure of the street. All you need to do is file the application. Once you have one, you're obliged to maintain what you plant in it, but why else would you want one?

To this end, the pavement tiles are being dug up along the edge of the wall and a narrow strip of soil is being laid, so that creepers can be planted and made to climb the wall. Once the plants take hold, it should look really nice and counter the slightly sterile look of the brickwork. It's hard work, though, as a stone saw is needed to cut through the square tiles, so that just a small piece of each tile can be put back.

The actual planting of the garden starts tomorrow, which should rapidly make our little plot of land look more like a real garden. All of the work so far has been preparatory and, whilst very necessary, provided little of aesthetic value and gave little impression of the progress being made.

I'm really looking forward to seeing the borders full of shrubs and flowers. We'll still need some outdoor lighting and a new set of garden furniture (the old set is really on its last legs), but the garden will be mostly finished at that point.

Eloïse 's climbing frame should also be erected by the weekend. Hopefully, we'll have good weather this weekend and she'll be able to play on it for the first time.

Speaking of the weather, it's been lovely here over the last few days: gorgeous sun, a warm temperature and no hint of rain. It's been a real treat after the long cold spell of late. Having said that, it's drizzling again outside as I write this.

It's hard to believe that Lucas was born a whole week ago. My, how the past week has flown by.

Saturday was Cora's next to last day at our house. She'll be back on Monday for the last time (in connection with Lucas , at least). Cora's been a great help: cooking, washing, massaging, etc. Most importantly, she has created the breathing space for Sarah to rest and recuperate.

Friday was Sarah's first venture outside the house since Lucas 's birth. She came with me to pick up Eloïse from the peuterspeelzaal, which is close enough that it made for a perfect first outing. The other mums and dads were excited to see our new family member.

Earlier this week, a sprinkler company subcontracted by our gardening company came over and laid down our new watering system. It's only a sprinkler installation, I know, but it's very clever. Technology is technology and this system is well-engineered. Good engineering is always impressive, whether it's a washing-machine or a computer program.

The gardeners will hopefully return tomorrow to continue the task of readying the garden for spring. Spring's already here in theory, but Mother Nature doesn't seem to know it yet.

Our friends Marc and Miranda came over to meet Lucas this morning. After they left, I drove Eloïse to a birthday party in IJburg, where she had fun playing with the other children.

Lucas still spends most of the day with his eyes closed. I've seen them, though. They're blue. Sarah says he looks like me, but so did Eloïse at that age. Who's to say whether it'll stick?

We've now rolled past the 37th week of pregnancy, which means that Eloïse 's imminent sibling is now medically considered full-term. In simple terms, if Sarah went into labour right now, midwifery protocols would allow a midwife to assist us with an attempted home birth. Naturally, a home birth is our strong preference, so this is a pleasing milestone to have reached.

Work on the garden overhaul is in full swing and has been for more than a week. It currently looks as if a rather large bomb has been dropped on it. Over the last few days, multiple skips full of soil and gravel have been hauled away, hedges have been moved around, holes have been dug and a tree has been shifted from one side of the garden to the other.

It's hard to imagine at this stage what the finished article will look like, but it's pleasing that work is finally under way. We've been discussing a garden overhaul since we moved into our previous house, so it feels as if it's been stalled for a long time. Our current house's garden was perhaps our greatest concern when deciding whether or not to purchase the property, so I'm glad that this feature is now being improved.

This is a fairly large-scale project and will take at least another week or so to complete. We're excited at the prospect of having the new garden ready for the spring. We hope Eloïse is going to enjoy playing out there, and we plan to spend our fair share of time out there, too, once warmer weather arrives.

It's the little preparations for the impending birth that bring home the inexorable truth of what is about to happen.

Earlier this week, I fitted the new EasyFix car-seat base on the back seat of the car. Even now, it's still amazing to think that a new baby will be sat there in just a few weeks. That'll provide some good in-car entertainment for Eloïse , as the new baby's seat will, of course, face backwards. On the other hand, we rarely use the car, so it probably won't be until our next driving holiday that we reap the benefit of the children keeping each other amused.

The Bugaboo Cameleon's fleece upholstery has been washed and is looking almost as good as new again. Sarah has reassembled the carry cot, which has been unused since Eloïse graduated to the seat, and I have fitted a new riding board. With this addition, Eloïse can ride along at the back of the pram while one of us pushes it. I think she's going to like that.

Thuiszorg delivered a bedpan to our door at the start of the week. That's needed for the labour process, just in case Sarah needs to dump a load in the bed during all of the huffing and puffing. It's great that you can borrow these things for free and then return them when you've finished with them.

I finally got my arse in gear today and did a dry-run of setting up the delivery pool in the bathroom. It was much easier to set up than the pool we used during the birth of Eloïse . The pool has an inflatable base, plus three inflatable wall chambers. The multiple chamber construction makes it much sturdier, so that it can be leant on and support a lot of weight during labour.

There's even an inflatable seat built into the pool and handles around the edge. Personally, I think we're going to get a lot more benefit from this pool than from the one we used in Mountain View. We have an air pump for inflating it, plus a water pump for emptying it of water. A length of hose will be connected to the shower in order to fill the pool. We even have an aquarium scoop for removing any, err, detritus that accumulates along the way.

At this point, we're fairly well prepared for the manifestation of the new bairn. All of the materials to be used during the labour and birth are ready, as, indeed, are the items for the start of life: nappies, clothes, etc.

It's just a matter of time now and enjoying our last few weeks (or days, if fate would have it) as a threesome.

As the year draws to a close and we prepare to head off to Providence at the end of next week, the last bits of work on the house and its grounds are being done.

The roofers are in to replace the roof on the garden house. Once the slates were off, the beams underneath turned out to be completely rotten, so they must now be replaced. It's a big and very expensive job, which won't now even be finished before we leave for the US. I hope there are no more nasty surprises in store, but that seems unlikely, because everything remotely related to the roof has already been demolished and is now ready for replacement.

Last Thursday, I the electricians came in to do some new cabling and rewiring for me.

Firstly, they ran CAT5 cables from the meter cupboard (where the phone line comes in) to the stair cupboard (where the patch panel and the DSL router are located). This was to allow me to disconnect the PBX (home telephone exchange) from the ISDN line in the meter cupboard and connect it to a new (not yet set up) PBX in the stair cupboard. Then, the new PBX will be connected to the ISDN line, hence the need for at least two new cables.

I had them run five new cables in total, which provided the capacity for a network jack panel to be put in place by the computers that handle the various security cameras around the perimeter of the house. These are located in the cellar, opposite the meter cupboard.

This allowed me to network these two machines, which means that I can now use VNC on the laptop and the desktop in the office to view the images from the outside security cameras in real time. Not that there's much happening out there, but I like the idea of being able to view my front doorstep from Providence over Christmas. Well, why not?

Finally, all of the relevant cellar locations are now interconnected and the equipment in those areas is able to address any other device on the network. This is exactly as it should be.

The electricians also rewired a couple of extension sockets in the living room, so that whatever's plugged into those is no longer controlled by one of the wall knobs by the door. This allows us to use the knob to control our lovely new standard lamp, without turning off the Sonos when we turn off the lamp at the end of the evening. Previously, the sockets connecting these things were all on the same circuit.

The new year will see the return of the electricians for a few more jobs here and there, including the repair of a few of the security lamps around the building. I've been extremely happy with the work they've done on this and previous occasions, especially now the way has been paved for me to fit a new PBX with VoIP capabilities and an advanced dialling plan. Watch this space.

The garden, too, is ready for a major overhaul. The architect has received our approval for her rough plan and is now going to work out the design in detail. The garden should be laid in the first quarter of 2008 and will feature, amongst other things, playing apparatus for Eloïse .

This will be a thorough reworking of the current garden and is, without a doubt, the most ambitious project that we have ever commissioned. I can't wait to see what the end result looks like and what Eloöse makes of it.

An archaeological dig is what it felt like to go to my lock-up yesterday and browse through my old stuff.

All of my Dutch possessions were transferred from my flat to this lock-up when I first went to America in March 2000. In 2001, all of the stuff that had been in my ex-girlfriend's parents' loft in London since 1991 arrived in Amsterdam to be added to the contents of the lock-up. I was still in America, of course.

At this point, all of my worldly goods were now in storage in Amsterdam, except for the few boxes I had had sent to America when it had become apparent that I wouldn't be returning to Europe any time soon.

So, it came as something of a shock when, some months later, word reached me that the storage facility where my belongings were being held, had (been) burned down. As I walked down Market Street in San Francisco, past people pushing all of their material possessions out in front of them in a shopping trolley, it occurred to me that some of these tramps now had more tangible items to their name than did I.

Some time later, it transpired that not all of the storage units had been lost in the fire. Some had survived the fire, only to be severely damaged by the efforts to extinguish the blaze. Perhaps some stuff had even survived the water.

My ex-girlfriend inspected the damage in my absence and reported that a lot of stuff was smoke- and/or water-damaged, but some stuff had also survived relatively or, in some cases, completely intact.

Once we had bought a new house and settled into it last year, there was really no excuse not to go to the lock-up and sort out the stuff there, but I couldn't bring myself to go and behold the scene of destruction that I knew would be waiting for me.

You see, in the intervening years I had forgotten much of what I owned, so I wasn't in a position to miss it. I knew, however, that if I were to become reacquainted with it, it would bring memories flooding back, so I was in no hurry to be reminded of things that had once occupied a place in my life, but which were now either destroyed or severely damaged.

With the move to the new house, I've decided that I need to finally get my act together and clear out the lock-up. That process started a few weeks ago with a couple of boxes of my old comics, which, thanks to my having religiously bagged every one of them in protective plastic sleeves, had survived their ordeal very well. A few had been ruined by moisture, but most were intact.

Yesterday, I went there again, spurred on by the half-empty state of our recently purchased antique bookcase, which somehow suggested an air of contempt on the part of its owners. The bookcase deserved to be filled; and what better way to fill it than with one's own books?

And so I brought back a lot of my old books, still packed in the Titan Distributors (a dreadful place and the last one I worked before leaving England) boxes that I placed them in back in, what, 1991? These are books that I hadn't set eyes on in sixteen years. Amongst their ranks are many obscure titles and limited editions, in many cases signed by the authors. It was cool to see them again after so many years, especially since they had survived the experience of trial by fire and water intact. Indeed, the only damage is slight indentation in the slipcases, due to the weight of the books having been stored horizontally for many years.

I went back today again, as I haven't yet managed to find all of my books. There's so much debris to sort through, however, that the full car-load I came back with today was almost entirely rubbish that I just dumped outside for the bin-men. Only one of the boxes in the car contained stuff that was actually salvageable.

Even after emptying this new box, there are still titles that I'm missing. I'm hoping that one or two more boxes are still in the lock-up, hidden behind all of the boxes containing mouldering, soot-coated clothing and other decomposing belongings. That stuff has been festering away for six years. Ugh.

Anyway, the bookcase looks nice now and is almost filled to capacity.

I remember packing this stuff in '91 and thinking to myself, 'One day, maybe a long time from now, maybe I'll be lucky enough to have the time and the environment in which to sit down and read through all of that stuff.' Perhaps that day has finally arrived or perhaps, with one young daughter and another child on the way, I'm actually further away from my dream than ever before.

Peter and Chantal left a day later than planned and headed to Paris instead of Stockholm. That's the beauty of travel ad lib.

Eloïse is back at playschool after half-term and loving every minute of it. Wanda told me that Eloïse now almost exclusively speaks Dutch while she's there. It's both surprising and pleasing how fast the transition has occurred. Sarah even caught Eloïse speaking to herself in Dutch whilst playing on her own the other day, which really shows how natural it's becoming for her.

Possibly our most pressing furnishing need was answered yesterday morning when our dining-room lighting was delivered and mounted. We purchased a couple of Lumina Galileo lamps from a local shop and are very enthusiastic about the results. To my great delight, it's now possible to read the paper after 17:00 and the lamps add a sleek, classy touch to the room, especially when combined with a dimmer switch.

I had first wanted a different kind of light (a horizontal mounting bar with three adjustable hanging lamps, each of which is turned on, off and dimmed by holding and releasing the 12V wires on which it hangs), but I decided to ignore my appreciation of the engineering and make a purely aesthetically based decision. Sarah's conviction that the Italian Galileos were the better choice also played a vital role, of course.

We've also ordered a standard lamp for the living-room. It has a dark wooden base and will be crowned by a lampshade that we're having hand-made from horsehair by a local craftswoman. It sounds dodgy, but it's an obvious choice once you've seen an example of the finished product. Her lampshades and, indeed, other pieces of art made from horsehair are absolutely beautiful.

The three of us continue to feel very content in the house. The weather has become quite chilly over the last week and the house has a lovely, cosy, warm atmosphere to it. It's simply a joy to spend time here, reading a book, watching TV, eating with friends... whatever. I find myself very much at ease here and continue to be surprised and slightly perplexed at the fact that it feels so perfectly our own home. Possibly that's due to the painting we had done; possibly it's just the fact that the house is dead right for us, anyway. I don't know.

The house has been in scaffolding for the last couple of days, as workmen have been repairing some of the brickwork around the perimeter of the house.

Much of this brickwork hasn't seen any repair since it was first put in place some ninety odd years ago, so I think next spring will see us performing extensive restoration work on the exterior. Some areas, however, couldn't be delayed until after the winter, so those were tackled this week. The second floor balcony, the first floor bay window and the ground floor conservatory front wall were all repaired, so we should hopefully now stay watertight during the upcoming winter.

We've been in the new house for just over a month now and, at this point, it's hard to imagine that we ever had any doubts whether buying and moving into the place would be the appropriate course of action. The three of us all love it and feel very much at home here. It's hard to imagine being anywhere else now.

I love to sit in my office, listening to the Sonos, and look out the window at the autumnal scenes of bakfietsende mothers bringing their tiny tots to playschool. Bronzed leaves, driven by the wind, cascade across the street; spiders crawl over webs spun across the window frame; people arrive for work and exchange a momentary glance with me. Perhaps they're as curious about me as I am about them.

We're still missing the touches of a lived-in home, but that will change when we get our artwork back from the framemaker's and hang it up. I'll also continue to haunt the local auction rooms in search of items that just seem to belong in our home. Too many of our walls are bare at the moment, but we need time to grow into the place.

For now, the world outside my window is a living tapestry.

We've been very busy with the house over the last few weeks. It's hard to imagine that only one calendar month has passed since we moved in, but that's the reality of the situation.

Dozens of boxes have been unpacked, their contents generally neatly filed away.

Our antique bookcase has been delivered and placed in the living-room. Its shelves are already ablaze with the warm sight of aging books, each one occupying a slot not just on its respective shelf, but also an unique position in the tale of our lives.

Many purchases of small items for the bathroom have been made, amongst which a Vipp pedal bin and some towels, a Samuel Heath toothbrush holder, some soap dishes and a few more odds and ends.

Boiler and air-conditioning maintenance was carried out last week. A few new filters still need to be ordered and fitted, since the previous owner apparently did no maintenance whatsoever. The underfloor heating on the second floor is also out of commission while the LCD control panel is repaired.

The garden has had its first bout of maintenance. A surprising amount of work was required, but, luckily for me, it was carried out by someone else. It's looking a lot better now.

The house's alarm system was malfunctioning, but has since been fixed by replacing one of the movement sensors.

Similarly, the outside lighting was tripping one of the earth switches after heavy rainfall. Annoyingly, this was taking out the office and washing room electricity. The suspected culprit lamp has been found and taken out of commission, so hopefully that will be an end to it.

The NEC telephone exchange has caused its fair share of headaches, but seems to be properly configured now. I had purchased some nice Siemens ISDN phones, but the exchange's internal ISDN S0 bus wasn't working, so we hadn't been able to use them until a couple of days ago. Not only was the S0 bus not configured, but a couple of wires had also been incorrectly connected, so it was never going to work until that had been fixed.

I bought a fax machine the other day, because, since getting back to Amsterdam, I've found that there are a few occasions per year that I need to send a fax. The fax facility on my mobile phone doesn't really cut it, and a simple fax machine doesn't cost much, so it seemed worth shelling out on one. Now that we're back on ISDN for the first time in ten years, we have four MSNs (telephone numbers, that is), so we can allocate a separate number for the fax.

My old American Klipsch computer speakers bit the dust when I forgot they needed to be plugged into a transformer. I accidentally plugged them straight into the 220V mains here and breathed a sad sigh as I heard the subwoofer make a feeble popping sound as its soul parted from its body.

I went to BCC and replaced them with a set of surprisingly good-sounding Bose Companion 3 speakers. These have dual inputs, so the Sonos in the office is also directly connected to them. That saves having to run the Sonos through the line-in of the computer's sound card, which avoids any strange ALSA mixer troubleshooting issues.

Next week, a contractor is hopefully coming to the house to perform some urgent maintenance that can't wait until after the winter. I'll be a lot happier once that has taken place.

There are numerous other little jobs here and there that need doing, but nothing terribly urgent, so we're just taking care of things as and when they occur to us. The only thing that can't wait is the repair of the garden shed's roof, which is in a pretty poor state.

I think we've achieved a great deal in our first month and we've now gained a pretty good understanding of the house and its systems.

It's been quite a week. The only way to deal with it was to spread one's arms, surrender to the oncoming wave and attempt to ride atop it.

After the hectic phone calls and final arrangements for the move last Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday was a relatively calm day with little to do but contemplate the days ahead.

Thursday morning, the removal company arrived at 08:00 sharp to pack all of our stuff. It was the first time we'd ever had someone else pack us instead of doing it ourselves.

This process scarcely needed any management from us, so we went out to breakfast and then on to the new house to meet with a garden architect and discuss plans for a new garden.

By 16:00, all of our stuff was ready to go, including disassembled bookcases and shelving from the cellar. Those units originally took hours to put together, so this was no mean feat. I couldn't believe that two blokes had accomplished in just 8 hours (including lunch and fag breaks) what usually takes us weeks of stress and fatigue.

They achieve this by not pausing to examine each item and not stopping to consider whether something should be thrown or given away. Everything upon which their gaze falls is mercilessly packed, whether it be a television set or bin-liner full of vacuum-cleaner dust. They also do this work every day, so they're a lot more skilled at packing, anyway.

Well, the television, couch and bed were mercifully left unpacked, so we enjoyed a relatively normal Thursday evening.

The painters in the new house had also finished their work on Thursday, as had the man who came to spruce up the parquet flooring. So, with the workmen gone, the house was now ready to receive us and our belongings.

Friday morning, the removal company was back, this time at 07:45 and now with five men in tow. All week, I'd been going to bed several hours earlier than normal, knowing how much energy would be required in the days ahead. I don't know how I found the self-discipline, but I'm very glad I did.

With five burly geezers managing the move, things progressed quickly. Amazingly, the entire contents of our house had been loaded into the van by 11:15. Minutes later, the van was pulling up 200m around the corner at our new house.

The second half of the move naturally took longer. Not only did everything have to be unloaded, but it wasn't clear where some of the larger items should go and the disassembled items of furniture now had to be reassembled.

Nevertheless, everything was completed by 17:00 and so, after thanking the movers profusely, we said goodbye and closed our new front door behind us for the first time.

That evening, Sarah went out to relax with friends, while I stayed at home and unpacked some boxes. I noticed that our phone line, which had been moved by the KPN that same morning and converted to ISDN, was giving an engaged signal to incoming calls. We could make outgoing calls with no problem.

Saturday was a day spent unpacking boxes, a seemingly never-ending sequence of them. There's not much else to say about Saturday, other than that I took Eloïse to the Little Gym in the morning and the cleaners came in the afternoon to help us get the house ship-shape. I also found time to go out and buy a few nice things for our lovely new bathroom.

Sunday took us back to the old house, where we washed a few remaining dishes that had been left unpacked for us to eat off. The removal company had missed a thin rack drawer of spices, so Sarah packed that and I disappeared into the cellar to break down loads of old boxes and dismantle our computer equipment.

We'd also brought in a cleaner to help us clear up at the old house, as we wanted to leave it in a respectable state for our buyers. That afternoon, I turned the key and locked the front door for the very last time.

Sarah continued to unpack the kitchen boxes, while I got started on my office. I have less bookshelf space in the new office than in the old one, so I'm probably going to have to consign some less useful books to deeper storage elsewhere in the house.

Monday was another early day. It was the day of the transfer of the old house. The three of us took a final walk around the house and made our peace with parting with it. Outside, the Prins Hendriklaan was being dug up by the council in preparation for the deep sewage system that has been making its way down the Sophialaan for well over a year. We had got out in the nick of time, because within a day, the entire section of the street would be inaccessible to traffic, including removal company vans.

After the walkthrough, we drove to the notary's office, where we signed the leveringsakte and transferred ownership of the house to the buyers. They seemed a little nervous and apprehensive, as I'm sure I did on both occasions that I bought a house. I think they were also first-time buyers, which adds to the anxiety, as your head is buzzing with dozens of questions and concerns.

And, just like that, it was over. We were no longer the owners of the house we had still been living in until just three days earlier. I shed a tear in the car park of the notary's office on the way out. It was the end of a very significant era.

In the afternoon, a guy came over to fix a broken curtain rod in the new house, which I'll now stop calling our new house, since it's now our only house. I didn't get much done in the afternoon, because Sarah was off at inburgering, so I was left literally holding the baby.

Today, an engineer from the electrical installation company came over to reprogram the telephone exchange and perform routine maintenance on the alarm system, including replacing some standby power battery units.

Happily, our land-line is now reachable from the outside world once again and our alarm system is functional and programmed with our new codes.

The curtain rod guy came back to paint over his wall repair from yesterday and that pretty much marks the end of Tuesday. Not much unpacking got done, because Sarah was once again at inburgering in the afternoon, but the money from the sale of the old house did come through, which was very satisfying. That really does close the most recent chapter in our lives.

The new owners of our old house have already moved in. I caught a glimpse of their move in action earlier this afternoon, with a lift hoisting their possessions up to the first floor window.

It's not ideal to move into a house that you bought just 24 hours earlier, because you typically want to have some work done whilst the place is still empty, but they had no choice. With the local council literally digging away the ground from under them, it was all they could do to hold back the council from uprooting the last few metres of that section of the street for 24 hours, just to give themselves enough time to move in. Otherwise, with the street turned into a building site for several months, they wouldn't have been able to move in until early 2008.

If the first casualty of war is the truth, then the first casualty of a move in The Netherlands is one's DSL line. Sure enough, the KPN has royally fucked up everything once again and it's as yet unknown when our line will be up and running again.

So, how am I writing this?

Fortune has smiled upon us once more and someone in the neighbourhood isn't too particular about his network security, so I'm gratefully receiving a piggy-back ride from this generous soul. This is a welcome stopgap until the KPN pull their bloody finger out and get our own line back up and running.

Things are hectic in the run up to the move to the new house, so I do feel as if I have something in common with the Dervishes.

Yesterday, I made 40 outgoing calls on my mobile phone. I'm not sure how many I made today, but it was probably only a quarter of that number.

Some of those calls were to inform people of our change of address. Most changes of address can be performed on-line these days, but some, such as school waiting list registrations, are still handled the old-fashioned way: by physical post or telephone.

A team of painters is at work in the new house and there were a couple of cleaners there today. The parquet floor will be worked on starting tomorrow evening. There's a lot to get done this week, with only four days between the receipt of the keys and the move. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated this time frame to us; it's certainly not what we would have chosen.

With a little luck (OK, a huge amount of luck), the move of our DSL line will take mere days this time, as opposed to weeks. A complicating factor this time, however, is that the analogue line in our current home will be replaced by an ISDN line in the new house. This is to enable the use of ISDN equipment already present in the house, amongst which, for example, the dialler belonging to the alarm installation. It makes sense to reuse the equipment that is already there, rather than try to hammer a square peg into a round hole.

A consequence of this is the need for a new ADSL modem, namely one suitable for use with an ISDN line. However, if my ISP is to be believed, that aspect of the move has now been taken care of and one will soon be winging its way to me. After this Friday, though, it's anybody's guess when I'll next be able to post a blog entry.

The day we signed the deed of transfer (leveringsakte), I noticed that the thermostat was displaying a blinking error code. Bloody great. Our first maintenance issue and the ink's not even dry yet on the deed.

After wading through some paperwork pertaining to the house, I figured out who had installed the boiler and called them on Monday for an appointment. The repairman came today and fixed the problem, but he indicated that it has recurred on a regular basis over the last few years and that the previous owner definitely knew about it. Shame on him for not informing us!

Anyway, at least the problem was (temporarily) fixed, so we'll have hot water now when we move in on Friday. That really would have been a cold shower, both literally and figuratively.

The movers come to start packing us on Thursday and execute the move on Friday. It's the first time we've had movers pack our belongings instead of doing it ourselves and I'm curious to see how well that goes. The parking exemption signs have already been placed by the council on the kerb outside both houses, so that's another concrete sign that we really are leaving this lovely house behind.

Happily, though, we're going only 200 metres around the corner. We really love the neighbourhood and would never consider leaving. Unfortunately, the hassle of moving is scarcely reduced by the close proximity of the new house. It's handy for letting workmen in and out this week, but the move itself will hardly be any easier than if we were moving to Maastricht.

In a few days, the worst will be behind us and then will begin the slow process of unpacking and taking care of all the niggling little irritations in the house. It's back to square one, as far as that's concerned.

We're moving.

We've bought a new house and will be moving into it this coming Friday. The transfer of the keys took place at the end of last week.

Our current house has been sold and the transfer of the keys will occur next Monday.

Needless to say, none of this happened overnight.

Back in April, our current house was finally at the stage that most of its minor irritations had been fixed. It was no longer just our house, but had slowly evolved to become our home, and none of us could imagine leaving it. We had come to love it as an old and trusted friend.

But life is full of surprises, as they say.

We have an unwritten list of interesting properties in the Willemspark neighbourhood; houses that, if they were ever to be put on the market, would warrant, at the very least, a cursory visit. And so it occurred that one of the houses on our unwritten list went up for sale. It was mere happenstance that I came to be looking at the housing market around the same time, or I would have been none the wiser.

I called the selling agent the next day and we went to view the property that afternoon. To our surprise, we liked it a lot. We were struck by the more practical internal layout, that is better suited to a family with children. It's also considerably bigger and semi-detached (not that we don't like to have neighbours, but it's nice to be able to go around the side of your house with bikes, have workmen come into the garden without needing to traipse through the house, etc.).

Within 24 hours, we thus went from being perfectly happy with our current home (or so we thought) to light-heartedly considering purchasing a new one.

Well, those airy considerations soon turned into earnest deliberations. No stone was left unturned in treading a path towards what is -- let's face it -- one of the most important and drastic decisions of one's life. Never before have I thought so long and hard about a decision: not when resigning or accepting a new job; not when getting married; not when deciding to have children; not even when deciding to buy our current house.

The pressure of wanting to make the right decision -- make that 'not wanting to make the wrong decision' -- weighed heavily on me, and I became brooding and irritable. What should have been a fun thing to think about (at least, I like to think it could have been) took the form of a worrisome burden, a predicament from which I sought an escape. I began to curse the day that I discovered the house was for sale, because now I could think about nothing else.

More than a month passed, during which time we totalled five viewings. My friend Geoff got to see it when he was here for Koninginnedag; Sarah's folks saw it during their May trip. By that time, I was virtually convinced that any house that you're still uncertain about after that many viewings is one you shouldn't buy, on that basis alone.

But in the end, buy it we did. Not that that signalled the end of the emotional oscillation; oh no. We had set a transfer date three months into the future, so that we could forget about the thing that had consumed our lives for the last month and however many weeks, and just enjoy the coming summer.

During that period, however, I came to doubt the wisdom of our decision and yes, I must admit, there was a brief period that I even regretted it. We were giving up a stable family home and for what? We weren't even dissatisfied with our current home, so it seemed that what we were doing was entirely unnecessary; greedy even.

The period of recriminations passed, however, and a final, emphatic line was drawn through them when we performed the final inspection on the day of the transfer, at which time we finally got to see the house empty. In that state, it came into its own. The previous owner's furniture had been a far cry from our own taste and I hadn't realised until the inspection just how much that had tainted my ability to view the intrinsic qualities of the house on their own merit.

In the meantime, we had taken advantage of the buoyant housing market in Amsterdam and put our own house on the market back in June. It was important to list it before half the country (and thus half the potential buyers) buggered off on holiday for half the summer.

After a period of frenzied preparation, photos were taken, a brochure was made and the house went on the market. Weeks of having to make ourselves scarce during viewings ensued. Everyone from Dutch TV personalities to foreign families with children viewed the house.

After one month, the house had managed to attract its buyer and the deed of sale (koopakte) was drawn up.

An amalgam of joy, melancholy and relief clouded my mind the day we received the telephone call informing us that a deal had been reached. Even though the legal point of no return had long since passed on the purchase of the new house, it wasn't until the old one had been sold that it truly felt as if an unstoppable momentum had been attained and that there was now only one way forwards.

So, we went from deliberation to decision, on to doubt and then resignation, and finally arrived at enthusiasm. It's been a long, exhausting journey and we haven't even moved in yet!

The last few days, our garden lawn has been jumping with frogs. Eloïse and I have great fun every day now, walking around looking for them. We generally find around half a dozen, ranging from thumbnail size babies to good-sized ones that would fit in the palm of your hand.

We don't know where they're coming from, but there must be a water source nearby. Perhaps one of our close neighbours has a pond or perhaps they're coming from further afield. Quite why they camp out in our grass, however, is a mystery at the moment.

Finally, some sixteen months after moving into this house, we've got rid of the two lightbulbs protruding on wires from above the television in the living-room and above the sideboard in the sitting-room. The lights we've had on order for months were finally delivered and installed today.

Now we just need to purchase a few standard lamps and possibly a small table lamp to go on top of the sideboard, and then the house will finally be starting to achieve that lived-in look.

We finally hit the 10,000 km in our car in the last week. It thus took us a little more than a year to drive the first ten thousand kilometres, nearly half of which were completed during our two month trek around Czechia and Slovakia last summer.

It's getting harder and harder to reach our house. Not only is the Sophialaan closed off by roadworks, which stops us biking home via the Amstelveenseweg and the Saxen Weimarlaan, but now the crossroads of the Emmalaan and the Koninginneweg is closed off for work on the tram rails. By bike, we can still opt to use the Vondelpark to get in and out of our neighbourhood, but by car we now need to go to the end of the Oranje Nassaulaan where it joins the Koninginneweg.

A week from now, they're going to be doing nightwork on the tram rails, too. God knows how much of a din that's going to kick up, and I'm not looking forward to finding out.

As we walked along the Emmalaan today, we saw Porgy Franssen, Roos Ouwehand and Daan Schuurmans chatting on the street, in between shooting the third series of Keyzer & De Boer Advocaten. Daan seemed to be flirting quite a bit with Roos. Ssh... don't tell the gossip rags.

The last couple of days have been gloriously sunny. Unfortunately, I've been gloriously sick and slept through most of Sunday. Still, I got to enjoy the Vondelpark with Eloïse this afternoon. We had a good time over at the Melkhuis playground.

I also have to do our taxes in the next couple of days. Bah.

It's all go here, as I'm sure you can tell. We need to plan our next trip.

With just a couple of days to go before we fly out to the Middle East, we've been making some improvements to the house and setting other things in motion.

A few days ago, our new Arclinea kitchen cabinets were installed. Finally, we have enough storage space for all of our plates and glasses, as well as our food. I thought we would be sacrificing the look of the kitchen for the more practical storage issue, but it turns out that the kitchen actually looks better now -- much more homely -- with the new cabinets installed.

The Lundia bookcase we purchased for my office now has two rows of rails in one of the cupboards to accommodate hanging files, so we can finally clear up and file away all of our old invoices, bank statements, etc.

On Friday, we had a new floor partially laid on the bedroom balcony. The people who came to do it turned up at 08:00, which was pretty rough. None of us are used to getting up at that time of day, especially not I.

Anyway, the work was being done to fix a leak in the ceiling above our dining-room table, where the slanted glass roof attaches to the upstairs balcony. That annoying leak is now hopefully a thing of the past, but the workmen still need to come back on Monday to finish the job.

The sitting-room sideboard arrived a week ago and has really added to the quality of that room. Finally, we have some cupboards and drawers into which we can stuff all of our downstairs items. It also looks great and gives the room a more homely feel.

One of the things I've been looking forward to doing (but procrastinating with) has been getting the house wired for sound. The time has finally come to put in a decent sound system. Given that much of our music collection is already stored as compressed digital files and that the future of music definitely lies in this direction, it was a more or less obvious decision to choose a Sonos-based installation.

We're going to divide the house up into various zones, each of which will be able to stream music from either the server in our cellar (which houses our own collection) or across the Net, for example when we want to listen to Internet radio stations. This is basically what we already do in the living-room, thanks to the MythMusic module of MythTV.

The multiple zones will each be able to serve their own music, so Sarah and I could be listening to different things in living-room and office, for example, whilst friends in the guest bedroom listen to their favourite radio station from back home in the US.

More on all of this when we get back from our trip, at which point all of the equipment should have arrived and be ready for installation. It's going to be cool.

It's been a long time coming, but we biked over to Duikelman in the Ferdinand Bol this afternoon and purchased the only other kitchen appliance I really care about (the first one being a decent coffee machine).

What we splashed out on was a Dualit Vario Combi 2x2 toaster, something of a Rolls Royce amongst toasters.

Dinner consisted of toasties (what else?), with several rounds of delicious, golden toast providing a TV snack later in the evening.

The new Vario has pride of place next to my beloved Z5. Breakfasts will never be the same again.

The gardeners came this morning to tackle our jungle. Two men spent four hours, pruning, raking, mowing and lugging bin-liners full of organic refuse. Although it looks a lot more tidy now, the grass is now looking quite yellow, so I think it's going to take a few weeks to a couple of months to get it looking nice again.

We viewed a house today. We're not really thinking about moving, but the opportunity arose to see a very large and interesting house in our neighbourhood, so we thought we should go and have a look at it. I liked it more than Sarah did, but neither of us fell in love with it, so I'm happy to say that we don't have to start the emotional process of seriously considering purchasing it.

It's quiet in the house again, with Chantal and Peter having gone back to Zürich. The next time we see them, they'll be in Australia, which means we will be, too. With Peter, Chantal, Bas and Kylie heading to Australia to live, plus our friends Allan and Kyleigh in New Zealand, next year is looking favourite for a long, drawn-out trip to the Antipodes.

Eloïse went to the consultatiebureau today. She now weighs 10 kilos exactly, which means she's putting on weight nicely.

I was planning to go with Sarah, but we had a bloke coming to look at the boiler and he changed the appointment time, so I had to stay at home to deal with him.

A different bloke, one from a gardening company, also popped around today to size up our garden. In our recent absence, the place has turned into a jungle, so it's nice to have someone sorted out to tackle it a couple of weeks from now.

Sofia, our cleaner, was here today, too, so the house is now looking spick and span, ready to receive our next set of guests, Peter and Chantal, who will arrive Saturday afternoon. Both Sarah and I are looking forward to that very much.

I shared an office at Google in Mountain View with Peter for several years, so he occupies a very special place in my memories of my time at Google. It will be nice to catch up with him and drink loads of coffee, a substance that Peter and I both feel strongly about, although he more than I. It will be nice for Sarah, too, to have another American woman to talk to.

The weather forecast doesn't look all that good for the period that they're here. Hopefully things will clear up a bit by the weekend. After two heatwaves, the summer really does appear to be over for this year. The mercury barely creeps up to 20°C each day and the sky is permanently overcast, if not pouring with rain. Why is the temperature seemingly always < 20°C or > 30°C? What's wrong with that middle ground?

We had a handyman fit a latch to the guest-bedroom door a few days ago. Why there wasn't a latch there to begin with is a mystery to me, but there wasn't. I'm sure Peter, Chantal and our other future guests will appreciate being able to close their door now.

What else? Well, Sarah finally has that elusive SoFi-nummer (national insurance number) in her hands. Almost a year to the day since moving here, she now has the magic piece of data that provides her with fiscal legitimacy and the dubious privilege of being able to pay Dutch taxes. Obtaining that number was on my original to-do list of things to do in the first week after our arrival, but it was dependent on her residence permit, which turned into a long and drawn-out story. Anyway, the number is hers now.

We finally hung up our oil-painting in the sitting-room this afternoon. Well, more accurately and fairly, an acquaintance of ours, Gerard, hung it up for us. It really adds a touch of style and class to that room, which made me realise all the more strongly that the rest of the house needs similar touches. We just still haven't put our stamp on this place yet.

I've been looking at wristwatches for the last few months. The odd thing is that I haven't worn a watch since 2000, when the cheap timepiece I was wearing fell off somewhere in Ottawa. I tried living without one to see how easily I could cope and was delighted to find that I didn't miss it at all, apart from the sentimental value that it had. Oddly, I can now no longer remember the slightest detail of that watch.

Anyway, about six months ago, I felt the vaguest of urges to start wearing a watch again. This is decidedly peculiar, since there has never been an period in my life in which time has played less of a role. I don't have much of a schedule to keep these days, seldom needing to be anywhere at any given time. Indeed, it scarcely matters what day of the week it is, never mind the time.

A few months have passed since then and now I find myself wanting to have a watch again. Sarah is always asking me the time when Eloïse falls asleep, as her regular sleeping patterns translate into a peaceful life for us when we are mindful and respectful of them, and it's tedious to keep pulling my mobille phone out of its holster.

So, whilst the desire for a new wristwatch is quite strong now, it has as much to do with wanting to carry around a small work of art and piece of technical ingenuity as it does with wanting to know the time at any given moment. I'm close to settling on a brand and model at this point. More on the subject when I do.

I've also been busy with new releases of Ruby/LDAP and Ruby/Amazon since we've been back. These two projects are now at version 0.9.7 and 0.9.2, respectively. It's good to keep my hand in with some form of programming, since my sysadmin/programmer skills are otherwise completely languishing.

Finally, the tedious process of importing, rotating and captioning photos has been going on in earnest behind the scenes. We hope to be able to reveal the snaps from our recent trip through Central Europe within a few days.