We signed the lease for the “crappy” apartment last night, so let the renovations begin! We are going to move in as soon as the power is turned on and we get our appliances delivered. The container with all of our belongings from the U.S. is going to be delivered today or tomorrow. We are excited to get out of this temporary apartment. I hope they fired whoever’s idea is was to put white tile everywhere. All I do is sweep and mop and it still looks dirty. And a big apartment/house is all it’s cracked up to be because then your messes are all spread out and it doesn’t look so messy.

We are still trying to buy the car. The Credit Union for Michelin doesn’t know how to do a transfer. It took two days and calls to about a dozen people to figure it out. You must be asking yourself, “Why didn’t you make sure it could be done before you left?” Well, we did. Michael specifically asked about a transfer to France. The girl said, “Sure, just fill out this form.” Yeah, not so much. Wouldn’t you think that since this is the credit union inside Michelin that they would know how to transfer money to France, Michelin’s headquarters? Shouldn’t they have done this for the many people who move overseas? Umm, no. Well, lesson learned. Apparently it isn’t even a “Michelin” credit union, it’s just a credit union inside Michelin. Now we aren’t sure if we are going to get the money in time to buy the BMW, but hopefully it will all work out.

Last night we made Shrimp and Grits and chilled mango soup (The soup we had on a Carnival Cruise.) and they were both so good! Make sure you check out Brooklyn’s facial expressions. She is saying, “OMG! What is that?! What is it? Noooo!” and “Ahhh….Get it away! It’s too scary! It’s horrible!”  I was brave and went to the grocery store to buy the ingredients for both and surprising I found all of them without asking.  At the seafood table there is always a guy standing in front of the table who gets what you need and weighs it for you and then put it in a bag and heat seals it for you. I ask for a “livre” of crevette (pound of shrimp). He doesn’t understand what I’m saying but I know that is the right word, it must be my accent. So I grunt at him and motion for him to throw a big handful of shrimp in the bag. That he understands. He throws A LOT of shrimp in the bag and I’m thinking, Holy Crap, it is going to be expensive, but of course I’m too scared to say put some back and I don’t know how. When he gives me the bag I look at the price and it is only 3.50 Euros. What!? Why is seafood so cheap in France?