jumping through hoops

It's the things you have to do in order to simply exist that are driving me mad at the moment. Can't just open a bank account, oh no, there are (apart from the plethora of banks competing for your custom) too many choices (there I go again) as to which account(s) you may open. I do feel like an imbecile at times, the look on my face when people say things clearly quite ordinary to them, like, 'That'll be 72 pence please' (ok I'm exaggerating a bit but you get the drift...), they must think I've just landed from another planet, which is of course exactly what it feels like at times. Opening a bank account involves proof of everything, of address, marital status, even that I am who I say I am. I totally understand their need for all those copies of all those documents that English people know are important and consequently keep in one safe place, but in our case end up scattered over six different folders marked IMPORTANT/AUSTRALIA/JOB and so on.

Even within these categories I find myself short of the necessaries. To register with a supply agency in Sunderland today I needed a an entire forest of documents from a range of sources, and then there were still more forms to fill in - my most hated job since burping Elly!
• CV (WHY do they ask for it if they are going to make you copy it all out onto yet another form???)
• degree certificates (fair enough)
• TWO proofs of address (which of course, if I had a bank account, would be no problem)
• passport AND driving licence
• £36 for the CRB, which may take 2 weeks, maybe more, but it isn't considered urgent until 8 weeks have passed. Ho hum.

The good news is, there is work. Fingers crossed those folks at the CRB aren't busy at the mo, and the relevant Spanish people are feeling in an efficient mood, and I might manage to get a couple of weeks in before it's time to move to Oz.

What was lovely though, positively sigh-of-relief easy, was going to the doctors today. I don't really do doctors and never thought of it as problematic in Spain but oh, how blissfully simple to talk about your womanly bits in a language you know almost as intimately, without having to think of all the proper words for them or where they belong.

Other things are becoming more 'normal' now, even routine, largely thanks to the kids. The library I've mentioned before; the school is a model of regimented efficiency; even the local baths enforces its timetable. It dedicates both pools to swimming lessons every evening from 4 except on Monday's, so I've been picking Elly up and going to the pool straight from school. The first two weeks were a bit of a hassle, especially coming out as Oscar refuses to be wrapped in a towel and consequently turns a rather scary shade of purplish-blue, vibrating as violently as our washing machine and Elly resisted every effort at getting her showered and ready. Also the sharing of the armbands was a major diplomatic issue. Something had to be done.

So I went to Mothercare. It rained, properly, for the first time since we arrived & I'd popped in to buy a raincover for the buggy (I suggested to Elly on the way to school this morning that it wasn't a very nice a day but was quickly corrected: she thinks the rain is great. So does Oscar come to that, it was like he'd never seen it before. Wonder how long all that will last?) More excitingly, Mothercare had the perfect pair of swim shorts for Oscar – they're fabulous, like little Bermudas – and another set of armbands. Well the whole swim session went like a dream. Oscar practically sprouted fins and was just away, playing with Kerry's eggflips and going up and down the steps, while Elly must have jumped in about 20 times, simultaneously yelling, "MAAMAAA, LOOOK!!" and inhaling large quantities of pool. Getting ready was ok too, I even managed to offset an Oscar fit when it was time to go by having some biscuits at hand! I love it when a plan comes good.

The perfect antidote to a week full of piddly little jobs is a weekend with nothing to do. I didn't get one, needless to say, but we did finally get to the Angel for a run about. Apparently, it's the biggest sculpture in Britain, and it does have its detractors, but I love it.