The best friend is gone, and my house is my own again. He made a lovely dinner and tidied up the garden and took my kids into town. But also, when I put my hair up and wore my spiffiest earrings and put on a clean white shirt for yesterday’s birthday party, said “Oh, aren’t you dressing up? Why not?” So I still don’t like him.
Hence the poem.
Thank-you Note, by Judith Viorst
I wanted small pierced earrings (gold).
You gave me slippers (gray).
My mother said that she would scold
Unless I wrote to say
How much I liked them.
So the London job! Um… there are some wrinkles.
We found out how much he’d earn per month, and it’s enough to live on here, but not enough to keep the family here and work there – a place to live in London, flights back and forth, etc. It would be doable elsewhere, but London is the 5th most expensive city in the world (sez Wikipedia , though other sources place it 3rd or 4th), and the tax system is brutal – it seems to couple Europe’s high taxes with the US’s zero benefits. It’s nowhere near enough money to move the whole family to London. Rent on a 1-bedroom apartment is at least £700 a month, that’s more than the payments on our house here. Continue reading