It's the little things...

Well we're back and kind-of settled in to the house. It's all in good shape and has been well looked after by the tenants. The garden is a bit dry but not much you can do about that. The move was relatively painless, apart from the storage place holding our stuff threatening to deliver it at 6:30am the day after we arrived. Luckily Liz managed to sort things out and deliveries were made at a sensible hour, while I went to the airport to collect the excess baggage and the cats.

Australian shipping and customs is no more logical than New Zealand's was: go to agent's office, get forms, take forms to Customs, fill out another form, go to Quarantine, get a rubber stamp, go back to Customs for clearance, go back to agent's, then to the warehouse to collect the goods.

Then repeat for the cats... They were pretty stressed until they got back to the house, but have settled in very quickly and are enjoying time on the couch as much as Jo is.

I'm still getting used to being home. It's funny how all the small differenced throw you off and make you feel out of place. Like the way that I couldn't go to a cafe and pay by credit card because it was below their minimum transaction limit (an unheard-of concept in NZ). Or remembering who gives way to who when I turn left. That a 32 degree day doesn't feel any hotter than a 25 degree day in Auckland. And that the entire length of our street has been dug up, then repaved by blind, drunk carpenters*. The way Chadstone shopping centre is spreading like cancer. Or that I have to remember how my signature goes when I use a credit card (PIN everywhere in NZ) - but I did find you can use PIN at Safeway. And let's not get started with telemarketers! The phone hasn't stopped since we got back! Bloody parasites!

Speaking of small differences (and parasites for that matter), here's one... though depending on your perspective, it's going to be a pretty big change:
Woohoo!

*(carpenters not being renowned for their roadworks skills)