When a ski season goes wrong

We may not have the house. Turns out there was some sort of mistake with the offers. We find out tomorrow. We have been anxious enough this weekend to think that trying to cost out the budget for our wedding was a relaxing break from thinking about the house.

Everyone start crossing fingers now.

Posts have been a bit slack lately. Now you'll know why.

22nd January: "Hey Bruno, look at this house for sale in the middle of Luzern. We could nearly afford a mortgage on that. Why don't we just have a look? Not to buy of course, just to see what we'd get for our money. It must be nearly falling down for that price."

21st February: "Well we'd like to accept your offer suckers! Hope the missing window panes don't cause too much of a draft while you find out about installing any sort of central heating system."

I believe that we now have what would be described in prime time property programmes as "a project". Look forward to thrilling posts about trying to navigate the Swiss beaurocratic system and building/renovation firms in German.

Yesterday the Swiss did a nationwide testing of the nuclear alarms that would sound had we just minutes to live. Less of a WWII air raid sound, this was really quite musical, more like a spooky ice cream van. No one told me this was going to happen.

At one thirty on the dot came the mournful wail. Very loudly. No one in my office reacted. At all. I got up and looked out the window. No clues as to what might be causing the noise, or which direction it might be coming from.

Still no sign of life from the Swiss work colleagues.

I made my way to the next office, where another Swiss colleague continued to work, oblivious.

Who'd have thought that one of the most difficult questions to say out loud would be:

"Can you hear that too? Or is it in my head?"