Twas in a Funk!

I just looked up the definition for a fairly new slang word, funk, to make sure that's the word I should use to explain my state of mind last Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday!  Sure enough, it fits.  Several different sources gave different meanings, and they are very different whether used as an adjective, a noun, or a verb, but these definitions fit:

• a state of cowardly fright
• a panic
• a state of severe depression (this one is a little strong, but I was getting there)
• to cringe, flinch, shrink, wince, or recoil

All of those definitions describe my state of being for most of this past week.  Let me explain.  Moving to a foreign country brings with it lots of incredible experiences, things to see and do, etc.  Being here with DJ, alone, after very little of that, can be wonderful.  I'm learning all kinds of new things, and you can't beat that. BUT....there are a lot of adjustments.  Some of those things I know will get better with time; some, I wonder, if I will ever get used to, but I have had a really good attitude.

So Monday was like any day in that I had to deal with a washing machine that will only wash 5 dress shirts at once or 2-3 bath towels at once, or that takes two loads just to do the sheets, and that takes forever to do anything, as well as dealing with his equally slow friend, my dryer.  I needed to clean house which included dry mopping and wet mopping every square foot of this apartment (because it is 100 percent tile) besides a big list of housekeeping chores like anywhere else.  It was a fairly normal Monday PLUS all the adjustments of living here. 

I think I could have handled the normal kind of stuff and even some of the adjustments, but I had four things that were really bugging me.  Normally, (okay, back in Texas), none of them would have bothered me that much, but I had issues here. 

1.  I had been asked on my way out the door at church on the first or second Sunday we attended our ward if I would help with the food for our monthly Relief Society meeting in October.  Would I make a dish (I thought I had remembered her saying not a dessert) using pumpkin, and would I do something American?  Okay, you need to know that my favorite kind of pumpkin anything is pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.  I can do those.  I love pumpkin pie; but because I never think my pie crusts are as light and flakey as Aunt Hazel's, I resort to Marie Callender's or any other local bakery that I trust, or at worst, use a Pillsbury pie crust from the freezer section of my nearest grocery store!!!  The only other time I have ever made something with pumpkin was for a tasting table in the Rosenberg Ward under the tutelage of master chef and ultimate party planner, Connie Foss.  I had all those recipes which she so beautifully copied and bound, but they were tightly tucked in a box in long-term storage in Houston because I don't have room for the the dozens of cookbooks that I collect (and don't use enough) here in Basel.  I don't typically cook things with pumpkin in them. Until I got older, I fairly detested anything that tasted like a squash.  Love it now, but it was an acquired taste.  Nonetheless, I agreed to help.

Well, to make matters worse, I really wanted to clarify what they wanted, how much they needed, what else was being served, was this a dinner or a tasting table, what time did I need to be there, did I need to help set up, did they need centerpieces or anything (because I do have five of my beautifully handcrafted, fabric pumpkins made by Linda somebody in Tomball, Texas, here with me), did we need to bring paper goods or did we use dishes at the church, etc. etc.  I hadn't been to one of these meetings here, by the time I attended our ward in September because of Stake Conference, they had just had the meeting.  I didn't know what to expect.  I was sure someone would call so I could get my questions answered, but they didn't.  The only time I had ever seen the woman who asked me to help was that day.  We sit up close to the front at church so I don't see everyone behind me, and I think she works with the Primary children because I had never seen her at the other meetings.  Anyway....the call didn't come, I didn't really understand what I was supposed to do, so by Monday and then Tuesday, and then Wednesday...my frustration grew.

Thursday morning, I emailed the only member of the presidency who ever talks to me because she knows some English, but I knew that she probably wouldn't see it because I was pretty sure she worked.  I kept thinking that surely Esther (the lady who had asked) would call because the activity was that night.  Prior to all this, however, I had been on the internet desparately looking for recipes, hunting for canned pumpkin and not finding it ( including at least 3-4 different grocery chains in Basel and one in France).   I knew I needed to have something done.  I needed a plan.  Anyway, enough about that frustration for now.

2.  The second thing that was bugging me was my hair.  My hair needs to be cut about every 6 weeks; and if I don't get it done by then it not only looks shaggy, but super flat on top with bangs in my eyes, and I start to sport a "skunk stripe" down my part because my hair needs to be colored as well.  It used to be that I would go too long between "dos" because of time---I was busy, I had the grandchildren and no sitter, I forgot to call during business hours, or I would remember on Tuesdays which was Jennifer's day off.  I hate how I feel and how I look when the hair goes too long between trips to the hairdresser. So...it had been six weeks, and I knew I needed to go get it done.  I HATE finding someone new to do my hair.  I have had more bad cuts than I care to remember, I have had hair color down the back of my clothing, I have had bad color choices, etc.  I just hate finding someone new.  Compound that with the fact that I don't know where very many things are, the few places I had noticed looked to be a little questionable, the whole language barrier,  AND the money thing.  You see, our relocation agent had told me she paid 200 francs for a haircut---that's close to $200, and she doesn't color her hair!  She's a lovely lady, but the haircut didn't look anything out of the ordinary.  All these things combined, the need for a cut and color and the issues listed, and I was one perplexed woman.

3.  The moving in, getting settled thing was really starting to get on my nerves.  We had been here almost six weeks, and I still had some pictures sitting on the floors propped up against the wall, no light fixtures in 11 places (only the two bathrooms and the loggia had them), and two wardrobe doors still not attached to the wardrobes and no knobs on any of the six wardrobe doors.  So...there's just unattractive things or holes or hanging wires about anywhere you look.

You have to know that in my early days, I thrived on getting settled and getting settled quickly with everything cleaned and ready for OUR DIRT.  When we moved to Ottawa with six kids in 1988, it was my goal to have the storage in the garage organized and placed around the perimeter just how I wanted it, nothing in the garage that wasn't supposed to be there, and the two cars parked INSIDE the garage before the moving van pulled out that night (granted he was there until 10:00 p.m.)  I made my goal, and the driver hauled dozens of emptied boxes with him because I had the kids helping me inside as well.  That's my mindset---I want to feather my nest and get it done so we can move on with our new life, wherever it is.

I thought I would have this three-bedroom apartment whipped into shape in no time.  So...the undone projects were really starting to get to me.  Now I must explain that there are reasons for this.  First, it took weeks to shop for and to build a lot of furniture that we needed.  We also need to hire a handyman/electrician to install our lights and to hang some of our pictures because they are going into concrete/brick walls.  It doesn't make sense to pay to have him come multiples times, so we need everything ready for one trip.  We have shopped and shopped and haven't been able to find all the light fixtures we need because we couldn't find what we liked or what we were willing to spend money on given the fact that we will have to leave all of them here in Switzerland because of different electircal currents.  We've seen lots that we like, but they don't go with our furniture, and/or they are priced at 300-1,000 francs each---where's Home Depot when you need one?  We've had issues with the hinges on the last two doors, and we need to buy an electric drill or have the handyman drill holes for the knobs.  Nonetheless, I was feeling like a flop, and getting frustrated that things weren't feeling more like home.  And finally.....

4.  We were having a Stake Relief Society Conference in Bern on Saturday.  Normally, not a problem, I love going to those events.  BUT.... Bern is an hour away.  I wasn't confident of my way to the temple where our day was starting and had no clue where the stake center (chapel) is.  I haven't driven the company car anywhere as of yet because I really don't have to, nor do I feel confident of driving here quite yet.  I don't understand the signs in German, nor their postings on the roads themselves.  I hate round-abouts.  I am really nervous about the two tram lines going down the middle of the road (downtown Houston all over again),  watching out for bicyclists who ride right along with you, and pedestrians who walk out in front of you without hesitating at the curb because they really do have the right-of-way.  Most, if not all, of the day would be done in German, and I assumed there would be, but wasn't sure, that there would be English translation at the temple.  Anyway, all these things were really weighing on me with a little help from Satan telling me that I was justified in not going---what would I get out of it anyway.  I wouldn't understand much of anything being said.

A funk.  I was in a really super-sized funk for most of the week.  But thank heavens for prayer, for faith that I could learn and go and do, and for energy to keeping trying.

Thursday morning I bought a pumpkin and lots of other stuff at the grocery store all by myself (that's major) with a little help from the butcher who was the only employee that spoke some decent English and a lot of help from Heavenly Father.  I was still hoping for an email or a phone call, but none had come when I returned from the store.  A fellow employee at Huntsman in the aerospace division, who DJ learned was American and who has been here for awhile, knew that you could purchase canned pumpkin at Globus (Switzerland's Bloomingdale's)---who would have thought!  It was a mere 5.60 francs per can (like a small vegetable-size can), but we found it!  DJ went to Globus during his lunch hour and picked it up.  So I spent 5-6 hours in the kitchen cleaning out a pumpkin, and chopping all sorts of veggies, and mincing garlic, and browning bratwurst in lieu of Italian sausage which the butcher told me they only have in the summer, and cooking rice, and making chicken broth from bouillon because you can't buy it in the can, and converting measurements on some containers and converting cooking temps from F to C, AND making pumpkin chocolate chip cookies (that was the easy part).  Oh, and I forgot how earlier in the week, it took us quite awhile and several trips to grocery stores to find their version of chocolate chips---Backschokolade-Wurfel in German or in French, Carre's de chocolat pour patisseries, or in Italian Dadini di cioccolato per dolci).  By the way, they're in cubes not chips or baby-sized kisses, and I kind of like them.

To shorten this already way-too-long account, by 6:40 I was ready to go, and I ended up with a really delicious vegetable/rice/meat dish baked in a pumpkin and a platter full of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies just in case they really wanted something sweet, and I had misunderstood.

(Okay, ignore the fact that even though I didn't cook this as long as it said, it was done; part of the pumpkin skin was kind of charred.)
Not the end of the drama.  Got there, no Esther, no English-speaking Heidi from the presidency, no other food, no tables set up for dinner, no one that was talking to me much.....  I asked where the kitchen was, put my food there, and waited.  Time for the meeting to start, nothing.  Announcements, prayer, lesson (a sweet 20-something single sister translated a little for me) but nothing is said about food.  The start of the activity, Heidi has shown up,  I talked to her, and she doesn't really know any details other than we eat "a little something" after our activity.  I slipped into the kitchen and put my food in the oven to keep warm, hoping I wouldn't break my platter.  There's still no other food in sight.  We created our floral arrangments in mini-pumpkins and gourds, and some made jack-o-lanterns.  We actually had a lot of fun doing it.  I now have a cute little fall something on my desk at home!

Everyone chipped in, and we cleaned up our tables and the floor.  No mention of food.  I asked Heidi what I should do, and she had me dish up the food on some small paper plates we found in the kitchen.  The ladies loved the dish (one sister had four helpings), and the cookies.  They just aren't used to much of pumpkin anything.  One lady told me that she had tried pumpkin pie once 20 years ago and then again, and she still disliked it---she said she would try a cookie, she had two!  She wrote me an email for the recipe because she has told her daughter that she will be fixing a new Christmas treat this year.

Saturday, DJ and I got up early and we drove to Bern together.  I had a wonderful experience at the temple.  I felt such a love for the the Swiss sisters.  The temple interior is absolutely gorgeous---breath-taking in places, and the peace there is incredible.  I came away with a strong confirmation that I was loved by my Father Heaven and that he was mindful of me.  Had I not gone, I would have missed it all. 

I did forego the workshops that afternoon, but had planned to do some sightseeing with DJ in Bern.  It was overcast, and we both decided we'd rather head for home and do some things here.  On the way home, we found a large store that carried light fixtures, and we found the last two---a lot of them are really not my favorite, but they will do for the time we are here. 

Today at church, I asked about places to get my hair done, and I feel much better about that.  Tomorrow starts a new week.  I can make a hair appointment and schedule the handyman.  Hopefully by the end of the week, I can look in the mirror and like my hair and feel a little more settled in.

Lessons learned (hopefully):  Little things can add up and cause much discouragement---try to avoid letting them add up!  Don't give in or give up.  Satan knows our weaknesses---one of mine is discouragement, and he can utilize it to ruin me.  Have faith.  Ask for help from Heavenly Father and from others.  Do things that make you uncomfortable because they can end up being really positive experiences.  Keep treading water until the life preserver comes.  Check out the internet for new recipes---there's some good ones.