Our BIG Canadian Adventure!

Whistle-stop tour...

2011-05-08T23:04:00.000-07:00

So, ten glorious days flashed by in an instant, here I sit in the delightful – if a little amusingly pretentious – extra wide berth` seats of Thomas Cook flight TC106 to Calgary.

Rewind to eleven days ago and I was skulking around in Kelowna feeling like I was doing the wrong thing, half-heartedly throwing clothes into a care-worn suitcase that has seen better days – and worse days for that matter, it was one of the eleven that we brought with us seventeen months ago when we left on our `Big Canadian adventure`.

After a traumatic start to my journey, surviving a private panic attack (my first, and last, I hope) on a cramped turbo-prop aircraft bouncing it`s way over and through a veritable noah`s ark of imaginary animal clouds in the sky, my Air Canada flight finally got us to the scheduled Calgary destination 3 hours later than planned, due to a freak 12 inches of snow in 5 hours which necessitated the airport being closed every 30 minutes for runway clearance. If I sound surprised that we made it, I was… not that I really thought the Dash 8 would come tumbling out of the sky taking me and all those rowdy students on their school trip with it to the dramatic peaks of the rockies below, no, actually we had been pre-warned that landing in Calgary was hit & miss at best and we should prepare for a diversion to Edmonton. Well… I should probably just stop there because I did make the connection and recounting all the stress in between is likely to send me into palpitations again. I made the connection. With 30 seconds to go. Seriously, 30 seconds, an irate `computer says no`chick on check in and lots of tears, I even surprised myself, not something I usually subscribe to, but it worked, they let me on, all hot & bothered after running two looooong kilometers dragging a 20.8kg suitcase (what.. that 0.8kg over my allowance was only adding to my distress…!). A suitcase and two overweight hand luggage cases which I was trying to disguise as `light as a feather`. Nonetheless, a spontaneous burst of overblown emotion got me through the desk and onto the plane so I may just use that one again sometime….

So I arrived in London 9 hours later, to three beautiful faces ready to greet me, a few more tears and off I hop to my sisters house for a day of cuddling and catching up. Oh, and wine. Probably. I`m sure wine must have featured somewhere then, I remember it started pretty soon after I arrived and didn`t stop until I left. Technically that`s not true either – just wait a moment while I take a sip of my pink fizz, what`s that? – it`s only 12 noon?... now that`s where you`re wrong,, now I`m on Calgary time, it`s twenty to five in the morning, that could be classed as a late night drinking by anyone`s standards…

So after the wine and the trip back to my parents for mothers day, planned, of course, ahem, we came back and did more wine. You might want to pick up on the theme here as it`ll save you some time later…

First day was the day my beautiful niece, Millie, conveniently picked up Chicken Pox without any fever so was able to spend the week at home, you know me guys, this was no luck, this was fortuitous – Millie & me, we go way back, at least 4 years… The beautiful Lala as I insist on calling her (Ella, she corrects me, Auntie Jules) seemed happy to take her time to get to know me again, a year and a half is a long time in a 6 year old head…

Well, I guess (however useful it is for my alcohol addled brain, for recollection purposes, you understand) you probably aren`t interested in a blow by blow account of my every movement so I`ll skip to the highlights…

Arriving Sunday, Monday was chill time and off to collect my very zootie English right hand drive – OMG. Oh. Emm. Jee. A right hand drive zootie car with gears and country lanes…. Hmmm. This is going to be interesting.

Tuesday & Wednesday spent at the house. Our house in Greatham. The last I saw of it, it was empty and cold, showing all the scars of a hurried exit. Unwelcoming without pictures on the wall or furniture to soften the edges, nothing personal, even the curtains at the windows were packed away. The house we left was a place of sadness – this home I came back to was full of warmth and happiness, I loved it. I thought it would feel tiny but it didn`t, it`s like I have an English `schema`and a Canadian one. Things aren`t supposed to be big and ostentatious here in sleepy Greatham. They`re supposed to be small, quaint & characterful, with small, overgrown roads winding around bizarre objects like trees and ponds, and ancient churches, the paths were set out around existing settlements in olde England, not around grid systems and practicality…

Needless to say I was very happy to see the house looking and feeling very loved, no overblown spontaneous emotion here, no longing desire to be back, just a contented feeling that our home of sixteen years or so was doing OK without us. Those walls have seen some life – some history, some action – not just from our family but from families for over a hundred and thirty years… scary when I think of it like that…

Of course arriving back in England at my favourite time of the year was always going to open my eyes to the innate beauty of the place. Something I didn`t expect. Ski season is winding up in my absence and the next phase in Canada will surely be the buds popping and the grey-brown landscape turning a verdant green that only this time of the year brings. No waiting for England, Oh no, Spring has sprung in true force, daffodils line the central reservations, blossom weighs down the seemingly unsuspecting trees, straining under the heaviness of the pale pink glory. The grass is green, beyond green, not a colour in my spectrum since I`ve left, not one so luminous that it catches your breath and throws it away…

So, Spring in Greatham and the beautiful Surrey dales is something to behold. Coupled with the fantastic uncharacteristicly warm weather, sunburn at 23 degrees, my trip was turning out to be a pleasant surprise.

The alcohol tinged amusement continued on Wednesday evening with a gaggle of girls (and one brave boy) meeting up at the Greatham Inn. We laughed and chortled and became generally pretty raucous as the evening went on, much fun and catching up was had by all and then back to sleep in a new bed, kindly donated by the lovely Tia Clarke. That afternoon we had spent catching up, chewing the fat, inspecting new chicken houses and running the gauntlet of the school run trying not to sound too monotonous or pretentious while I recount how the kids are doing, how life is and spend a lovely (but inordinate amount) of time cuddling people. It was fab!

Thursday saw me meeting up with my beautiful old (sorry ladies, you know what I mean;) friends Karen & Sass, with the primary objective to see – and do some more cuddling with – the lovely Baby Brooke. Brooke was due on the day we left for Canada and, as first babies have a habit of doing, came in fashionably late. Suffice to say I have missed not being part of one of my oldest friends biggest life changes (Karen & Sass were assigned to look after me when I joined their school at age 12) and to spend some time with these three lovely ladies was an absolute pleasure…

From Karen’s to Ronnie`s for another evening drinking wine, catching up, loving every minute – we even had curry – CURRY – I love curry. Another wonderful morsel of quality time, another new bed, over too soon but fun while it lasted…

Friday, lunching with a Client and friend, humping more furniture and sorting more boxes. At this point I`m going to leave out the trip to Asda Walmart that left me cold, it just doesn`t fit with the theme… well, I suppose I could elbow the theme in there somewhere – wine, mannnnn it’s difficult to get used to the buying of alcohol in supermarkets again, and how civilised! Well, OK, maybe not, but a darn site easier than stopping off on the way home to stock up the depleted reserves… I confess I got a bit carried away with both the convenience and the price. ‘That’s it’ says my sister, “I`m not moving to Canada anymore, how much for a bottle of gin?” …

Friday evening began the new theme of getting as many people together in one place so I don’t miss anyone theme. My ambivalence to the wicked sinful stuff soon waivered and I was on the punch by the time the sun went down…

Saturday took me to Andy’s parents, meeting up with the Galloway clan and being knocked sideways by the other Andy Galloway, who is our nephew, his parents clearly dowsing the bed in fertiliser because the child that we left is now a fledgling man, broken voice and teenage attitude (apparently) to boot… T’was lovely to see the in-laws and be back in the house that Andy & I first inhabited together. Aaah, history. I hadn’t realised just how much I missed it.

Saturday night was an absolute ball. Scene setting? Sure. Try 6 girls, none of whom, I’m told, “get out much”, lots of wine (no, really, we did) a pub crawl around Guildford, finishing up in a bar with a clientele of an average age of about sixteen. OK so maybe I’m exaggerating. But I certainly felt old…

A cab ride (thanks Wayne) and a kebab later – I resisted I’d like to add at this point – and we retired in anticipation of tomorrow’s hangover… the tss tss tss of the last bar’s music still pounding in my ears…

Sunday was the final run to Greatham to collect everything to be shipped to Canada and take it to my parent’s house, lay it out on the lawn, sort into heavy/medium/light – need/want/can live without and get boxing. Taping. Labelling. Interesting times… after a family meal my mum & I sat in the evening piecing through all my old keepsakes from times as long ago as when I was nine having my tonsils out (lovely letter from my mum about how brave I was being – couldn’t read it again of course, I’m far too emotional… ) photos, letters, trinkets, an old wooden ball that Andy gave me covered in his aftershave when we first met, (Still smelled) locks of my children’s hair, wrist bands from their brief stay in hospital when they first came into the world, a locket with a photo of my mum & dad before I was even a twinkle… Lovely reminiscent time. Oh – and I saw my wedding dress for the first time (literally) since our wedding day. How beautiful. This is what a needed, a good dose of memorabilia.

The rest was a bit of a rush, Monday spent furiously boxing up and filling in online forms about all the stuff we’re bringing to BC – via my brother’s newly renovated home to another old friend who taught me how to drink. Just in case I had forgotten in my time away she came well prepared. I lost count of the bottles we drank but I do remember they were of all varying shapes and sizes, and all different colours. Going to bed at 2am with only a tiny bit of blood left in my alcohol stream, I deserved to have a much bigger hangover than I actually had. I knew there was a reason why I was so damn good at darts that night….

So Monday turned to Tuesday, my final day, the clouds turned in as if to hale the imminent end to my trip – I did bring this sun with me don’t you know – and now a race to the finish line. Couple of bits of admin, opening new bank accounts etc., and I spent a lovely afternoon with my gorgeous nieces at the movies, their first time it turns out. We watched a film about a bird a long way away from home who was torn between the people he loved and the place he loved. Hmmmm. Go Rio...

So the rest of that was a blur, now I’m sitting, wait 36000 feet in the sky, travelling 870km/hour in a long metal tube, just about to hit the tip of Greenland. Outside the window is the bluest sky, one that you’d struggle to replicate on paper it’s so soft, where it ends the misty white clouds start and those two simple features dominate the outside through the portholes as I see it right now.

In my absence the children have coped as if I weren’t there – so much for my anxiety that Amelie would feel her left leg had been removed. Maybe a left pinky fingernail at worst.. Work has continued, Andy has capably slipped into the role of major caregiver, breadwinner, soccer-coach extraordinaire – oh and he managed to fit in a few skiing days before the end of the season. He is my hero.

We didn’t really have time to miss each other as we spent pretty much every waking moment skyping, texting, calling… the world is too small for romance. Note to self – be a bit unavailable (keep ‘em keen ;)

So, that’s it. That was my whirlwind tour. Loved it, every minute! Got the grey matter shifting, enjoyed the company of some very special people, I was made to feel so special by everyone who I saw and I thoroughly enjoyed my time away. Just a few more hours & I’ll be back in the arms of my favourite man in the world, snuggling the necks of my two beautiful children and wondering if it was all a bit of a dream… I am torn, but that’s OK.

Catch you again soon.. promise to be more attentive in the coming weeks and months..

Can it really be a year?

2010-11-03T19:08:00.000-07:00

Wow. A year? One whole year? No way - not possible, let me just check...

Wowser. (and yes, I used this expression before I left the UK ;) It really is.

A whole year since we loaded up those ten - sorry, eleven, suitcases, packed up our home into boxes and piles and orderly lines and shut the door on the empty box that we called home for eleven years. As we drove down the gravel lane our dear neighbours and friends waved with all their might, tears a-plenty (inside & outside the taxi) not quite believing what we were doing...

It's been an amazing year - all in all - but not without it's challenges. I'm laughing inside as I write this, like a flat tyre might be a challenge, or a missing button... Challenges so life changing, so identity forming, so deep & so ongoing, challenges that make me want to turn off the lights & make it all go away. If I could turn back the clock... a long way... (that's one of Andy's favourites....)

It's not just a move, it was like throwing away everything you'd ever learned, all those subliminal things that you didn't even know you knew, the colour of sugar packaging, how to fill your petrol can, how to get car insurance... you throw it all away (or pack it up in boxes in your loft at Woolmer Terrace) and come with clean, clear heads. Leave the country? leave everything & everything you know on your way out, before you turn the lights off... it'll be of no use here.

So. So... we did it, we broke through the first days of excitement, weeks of organisation, months of embedding ourselves into a new culture, and trust me, it's a new and very different culture, we broke through all that, sometimes we even came up for air. Only on occasion though, no time to breathe... get on with your life, or rather get on with making your life or you lose momentum.

The children started in their amazing school, all big and brave - bigger & braver than I was, leaving the country? Leaving everything you ever know? Tie up the business? Move to the unknown? Pah - peanuts in comparison to walking away from the kids as they eneterd that enormous 'Elementary' school that day... Oh how I counted down the hours... I guess you have all that from the blogs at the time.

Apart from the tough, chewy bits, the highlights have been a-plenty. We've had amazing welcomes, almost daily 'Welcome to Canada's for the first few months, endless invitation to dinner, parties, trips and more, everyone was so unbelievably... Canadian, friendly, helpful, generous, everyone (without exception) wanted to make us feel at home, which helped. Invites for Christmas, to our dear friend's the Loyd's and then for amazing summer breaks & Thanksgiving too - we do give thanks for such an amazing family in our world. We had the snow, the skiing, the snow-shoeing & the botched attempt (mine) of snowboarding, we enjoyed that Winter - one we got to grips with the fact the kids were out in the playground at minus 19 - yes it happened - and planned accordingly... we started to enjoy that white stuff BIG time! Oh the fun we had on that mountain, hey babe ;)

When the white stuff disappeared we look forward to summer, I threw myself into organising the school Spring Disco with a couple of friends, it rocked - we rocked - and I got to meet a ton more people & everyone knew who I was - yep, still the exhibitionist, why ever not? Even Tom said he was proud of me :) Andy took up coaching of the soccer (I have to call it that, OK? Football is something entirely different over here...) absolutely loved it, spent the summer with loads of kids hero-worshipping him and got to look like he knew what he was doing, he loved it & it added a new layer of 'life' to our lives... respect to him for that.

So, the kids & Andy learned to ski, I fumbled my way through that... we made tons of friends, I did the disco & Andy did (and still does) the soccer, and we're only at Spring... what else happened?

Well, there were the visitors... and there have been many! How cool is that? We leave, lock stock & two smokin' barrels and our friends & relatives save their hard-earned wonga to come & see us & where we live? Well, I for one am gobsmacked. How amazing to be able to link your old with your new, to weave a thread between two continents, to have English feet pad around on Canadian soil - because of us... that's cool, I'm proud of that... We had the party in June - 7 months here & 70 people, 70 friends crossed our threshold, we all had a ball, pool party, cocktails and a wonderful cake 'Canada loves the Galloways'... you know who you are :) x

Andy once said that amidst the anxiety of the whole mood he was excited at the possibility that he - he - may have been the one that when, in 50 or a 100 years time, his ancestors would look back and see our names on the family tree, and those of our children, as the ones that made the move from one continent to another... in 2009 the Galloways family moved from England to Canada and the rest is history.... Yes. I get that, I really do.

So, that we have had visitors has meant the world to us. First it was Sheila, Andy's wonderful mum, in May, followed by the beautiful, welcome & so needed Sarah & Colin in June, Oh how we laughed, Oh how we partied....

Then the delightful Sheila returned in September, followed swiftly by my mother, Anne, & my dwarlink baby brother Ceej in October. How lovely to be able to show your family & friends how much of a life you've built up in a short time, remember, e.l.e.v.e.n.... suitcases. Nothing else. We had to buy everything from garlic presses to trucks - and everything in between. Our wealth still sits in England, we started again like newlyweds and it was humbling & fun...

During that time we looked after a friends beautiful, stunning, Bed & Breakfast in Revelstoke - the place that was the catalyst for all things Canada - two and a half weeks of goat herding, chicken rearing, turkey wrestling... dogs, cats, bears, coyotes. OK I lied about the bears. That was amazing, if we could make our business work there we'd be outta here... we love Revelstoke - and now it has Sarah & Colin's and Mum & Ceej's fingerprints all over it it's even more special, we're saving that for our retirement....

So, I guess being the 'anniversary edition' this was likely to be the longest blog post yet but it continues....

The business has picked up, knocked sideways by the UK Clients continuing to use GallowayCAD like we were still in Greatham, how amazing is that? Still, one year on they are sending work through as before, we count our lucky stars every day. I connected with a wonderful company in town back in May and they have invested in my experience for a good time now, I'm meeting tons of great people through Total Office and loving every minute, knowing we need to lay the foundations here Andy has - ironically - started working with a new Client in town on the day of our first Canadian anniversary, who'd have thought it, and we have irons in the fire with some big names in town as well as the BC government and beyond. Things take a while to pick up in this place and we've been at the helm, pushing our way through the ice, relentlessly - they're all probably fed up with the sight of us, but it looks like GallowayCAD - and it's evolution - will be even bigger & stronger than it was in the UK, given enough time... and that is one area we KNOW we deserve a break, damn we work hard!

And so, we did the year, we shed the tears, more tears than we ever have, we left the friends and gained some more, we saw our kids (and ourselves) develop into different people, stronger somehow, and we're still standing. Amelie has the accent - odd & cute all at the same time, Tom had the words.. ARSEOME.. at every turn... and us, well yes, we have thicker skin & stronger backbones but we're still us & we love you all...

Thank you for all your support his year, we really couldn't have done it without you xxx

How much fun in a week?

2010-07-19T23:25:00.000-07:00

Soooooo much fun was had in a week at our beautiful friends' beautiful 'cabin' and yes, I do use that word very lightly... not the rickety old wooden shack on the shores of the lake the one might conjure up, nope. Not that all.. take the opposite and double it. It was heavenly...

So, away from the usual format of this blog, the format which gives you more of an 'essence' of the experiences we are having and change it up a bit for this one post to spell out what our very lucky bods have been up to during the period of radio silence that was our 'vacation'.

Christina Lake. Just near the US/Canada border and about 3 hours away from sunny Kelowna and all the Okanagan traffic that has swelled to bursting, didn't think we'd be trying to 'get away from it all' so soon, considering as recently as last year we were part of that tourist influx...

Our week began with a G&T...OK, my week began with a G&T on the rocks with extra lemon, looking out over the most beautiful lake sunset surrounded by a million kerzillion (I am graciously informed by Amelie, who counted them, so there) trees.

Let the excitement begin.

The wind was too strong to put the boat in on Tuesday so we went to play golf. Obviously. Never played before and let me tell you, that man back in Cowdray Park Corporate day in 2006 (who had his grip on my waist rather too intently), the one who told me I had a great swing and I should take up golf because I was a natural... well, he was lying. Let's leave it there... I said leave it. We had a blast, the kids were a ton of fun and we managed to get around 9 holes without upsetting the golfing fraternity and their etiquette I think, they even said we should come again... I don't trust the likes of those golfers any more... talent. pah.

So with a run under my belt on Wednesday, at last I pounded those new forest floors and it was great to be back, the boat was successfully launched into clear unsuspecting warm waters... on top of, under the surface of and slicing through those waters became the order of the week, thanks to our gracious and generous hosts.

First there was the tubing. Being dragged at the speed of light behind the boat on a cord that looked like it could snap at any moment is not really my thing... I had my hair coiffed and my nails done for this vacation for goodness' sakes, and wait, you want me to lie face down on an inflated doughnut, hang on to some polyurethane handles and try to remember the [hand] signal for 'slow the feck down' whilst travelling at break neck (no really, break your neck) speeds whilst everyone 50 metres away on that vessel beamed with amusement, belly laughing at how funny those poor passengers looked. Calling things out like "Oooh you caught some air then" and "Hold on tight, what's that faster?" OF COURSE I'M HOLDING ON TIGHT, I have Jock's words in my ear "Just don't let go & you'll be fine"... well, that's reassuring...I'll be holding on then...

Actually, although all of the above is true, even the edited highlights of those hours of fun on the back of that contraption, the act of being brave enough to lie next to your ten year old son who wants your reassurance and at the same time wants to show off his new found bravado, was the most fun I've had in a long time. Well, probably second to watching Andy and Amelie from the comfort of the boat when it was their turn... but the best antidote to that was still to come for me... and hats off to the amazing Rona who jumped in where mummy failed and allowed her body to be thrown around at the mercy of the wind & waves looking after my babies when their parent's arms hurt too much. My hero...

After lots of swimming in, it was sailing through the water in a rather more sedentary manner that became my newest obsession, under my own steamy steam in a Kayak.

I'm not going to mention that I took to this rather more quickly and capably (for once) than my husband who is good at everything. I won't mention that he was petrified of this little craft that was determined to pick him up and cast him into the deep waters all by itself. I won't also mention that he found it so unnerving that he couldn't turn or look around and really wanted to make it go away as soon as he humanly could. It would also be a bit cruel to tell you that when I lost my way a little and ended up wedged under someone's boat launch at the mercy of an oncoming speedboat's wake, that he didn't stop or attempt to help, he was on a mission to get his clenched butt back to dry land and sod the wife, he could send out a search party if needs be. If I mentioned all of those things then it would put an ugly taint on the whole experience so I'm going to leave that bit out... if it's all the same to you...

What I will say is that when I graciously gave up my comfortable GIRL's kayak to Andy in place of the somewhat less stable albeit more streamlined (=faster) vessel all was well in Andy's world. We had lots of fun, sauntering through the waves, exploring the shores for hours on end, we even lost track of time and made it back to an almost empty house, kids away for ice cream with Uncle Dave and our lovely hosts already left for their next adventure... but next time this mad English chick will give that wilderness land a bit more respect and take food. And a hat, and sunscreen. My arms hurt so badly that I couldn't even lift them to pour water on my dehydrated highlighted hair... Oh but we had such an amazing time...

What a wicked vacation that was. Never before have I returned so refreshed, so relaxed and so armed with another sackful of memories under our slightly tighter belts and a new warmth to an old friendship... Thanks R&J x

Diamonds on the water...

2010-07-19T22:22:00.000-07:00

It's hard not to absorb into your surroundings, to become part of the landscape, to get used to the vistas and the sounds, the air and the accents, to move on from that first eagle sighting... the first snow-capped mountain, the first time someone says ".. well, welcome to Canada" after hearing your abbreviated tale... It has to wear off with time, right? It has to dilute, you have to stop seeing, stop feeling, stop hearing, you can't keep the magic alive, the awe so heightened forever, can you? Otherwise how would you ever get anything done? Those days I went outside to hang out the laundry and was transfixed for what seemed like hours by the mountain view... or as I turned my car into our local streets and actually drew breath at the beauty of the lake vista... how would you function if this feeling remained with you? Whatever it is that floats your proverbial boat; the hum and the lights of the city, the sedentary silence of the mountain retreat or a hundred places in between, wherever the vista makes you go ooooh would have to morph into habitude before too long, surely? Tell me I'm right?

Well, maybe so, but I'm not there yet, and can honestly say that in a place as big as BC (never mind the delights that await in Canada further afield) that I will never, ever tire of this beauty, this space these powerful vistas.

Take this moment, for example, this very moment as I write, sitting on a floating dock on BC's warmest tree-lined lake watching a speedboat looming large out of the water, growling it's way towards me, cutting a foamy line in the otherwise calm lake, my man and my 'baby' girl clinging onto the inflatable tube which attaches itself to the back of the boat by fifty foot of rope... The sun, melting into my back, the faint smell of that sun oil that i should be ashamed of using, the dogs are launching themselves into water so clear and so deep that I can make out the outline of fish swimming maybe twenty feet below...

So. I really think I'm going to get bored of this? Tire of these trees, of these endless places to explore? New running routes every day if I'm so inclined, alongside new rocky creeks to quench my thirst (hoping nothing died up-stream) and through new forests, on new trails with new bear thoughts... uh-uh, I don't think so...

I know it's not everyone's thing, and I know that my blogs err on the side of utopia, lots of clean and shiny, lots of wow's and ooh's, believe me, it alone has delayed my blog writing for weeks and sometimes months on occasion while I search for things I don't like (all in the interest of balance, you understand...) but I conclude that this blog, this web log, is my diary and must reflect what I see and feel, it reports my world as I'm experiencing it in the here and now. Right now my feelings are of an overwhelming fortune that we found this life whilst we were still young enough to enjoy it.

So, I'll leave you, once again, to enjoy watching those diamonds dancing on the water. At this moment in time I feel like the luckiest girl on this planet.

TTFN :)

Friends & High Places....

2010-04-26T23:54:00.000-07:00

I was absent-mindedly writing a list of all the people we'd invite to our upcoming 'we've been here X months' gathering and caught a glimpse of it in all it's listed glory. Now, those of you who know me will know I'm a lister... a list writer extraordinaire. I even write lists of lists I have to write. I write lists of things I've done just so I can tick the boxes. I am a box ticker list writer and owe all my successes in life to this one, small yet significant characteristic... no really, I do.

Anyway, there it lay, gazing up at me, the sheet of paper covered with spider scrawl mind-mapping, who would we invite - did we have enough friends in our friendship arsenal to make it a worthwhile party-time. Hell yeah [twangggg] did we? It got me thinking how I woke up one morning and found myself happy in my skin. Happier than I've been for such a long time. The stresses and strains of our existence over the past year or two have taken their toll on various corners and crevices of my world but suddenly I find myself at peace. If only until my next stark-raving lunatic idea organically breaks through the surface and starts feeding off me... for now I'm aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.

This is due in no small part to the web of beautiful friends and acquaintances we have conned into being part of our world in these six short months, some of whom have become deep, intense friendships already, hardly seems possible. You see we really struggled to leave all that behind. We could leave bricks & mortar, sell off the cars, pack our past into boxes and our future into suitcases, but the emotional underground-cables of friendship bonds were painful, physically so at times, and with all the practicalities to busy our pretty-little heads with we avoided thinking about the inevitable loss that was staring us in the face. Necessary of course, or we would never have left such an amazing life full of amazing people.

I tell myself I'm a 'wherever I lay my hat' kinda girl. Tom & I are cut from the same cloth. We look forward and cry in private. Andy & Amelie on the other hand look back - nothing wrong with that, nothing at all, we just see things differently sometimes. Andy had to come to terms with his 'loss' and it really was like some sort of grieving process. My way of getting through was to envisage that at some point in the future I would build the friendships I so relied upon in England, that it was inevitable that, in time, this would happen here.

In my wildest dreams I couldn't have imagined that we'd have found the friends that we have already - or that they would have found us, because, for the most part, people have gone out of their way to get to know us.

Teasing out the list there's the neighbours, the wonderful neighbours who we didn't really see through the dullness of Winter, except for a family with whom we quickly connected and have spent some great evenings already. Then there's the 'waving friends' who we chat to, pass the time of day on our many walks, I count the school bus-stop friends in this list, always a smile, always an interested ear and always a lot of laughs, these are the people we see every day and they all add a little polish to your hour...

Moving further afield we have individually moulded our social scenes, Andy's embedded in his prolific badminton excursions, four, five, six times a week - those connections have led to some really enjoyable evenings out, and mine in the school environment, throwing myself into the PAC (PTA) and getting involved in some really great events. Through this the friendships just evolved, and here's where some of my greatest times have been so far, fabulous people, huge laughs and like-minded peeps.

Then there's the exercising lot...! I have little pockets of friends with whom I Yoga, bootcamp & hike up mountains, all with one thing in common (aside from the sweaty me...) - the giggles & hooting belly laughing that goes on, the light-hearted light-spirited breaths of fresh air that we forgot to breathe for a while when we first arrived... give me that sweet air any day. It's been a long time since I laughed so much...

So, along with the array of wonderful people who we knew & loved before we arrived here in November we have gained a wealth of friendship since, from people who have made us feel so welcome, to add to our much loved and more missed posse back in England (and beyond...) most of whom who have gone out of their way to stay in touch, to give us the love and support that we fed off for a while and who never cease to amaze me that they still think of us as much as we do them.

Aren't we the lucky ones? Share the love... go on, feel it, feel it....

So - a soppy account maybe, but there's room for the odd emotional outpour on my blog, just keep me away from the brandy at our party, it makes me all gushy and loved up ;)

See you again soon.... x

The White Stuff...

2010-04-06T22:28:00.000-07:00

Yes, all that white stuff. There was lots of it by our standards but a very - very - mild year by everyone else's. Not sure if we prefer that, we enjoyed watching the extreme cold kick in on the webcams last year, but I guess that's the key to it, we watched, from a dank & drizzly England - let's be fair, it was a dank & drizzly season in our neck of the woods last year... a winter that was pretty non-descript and dragged on for what seemed like an age...

So we only had a few days of lots of snow on the ground down here in the 'valley', ultimately I was thankful for that for practical reasons like I can't bloody drive in the snow, on the wrong side (and yes, it is still the wrong side to me...) never mind that we had to re-sit our driving tests again, the pressure on clear roads never mind if we had ice & snow to contend with, they may as well have torn up my paperwork there & then... yes, mild Kelowna winter worked for us this year, thank you very much.

Up on the mountain it was a different kettle of ballgames altogether. Lots of the white stuff, plenty of good skiing at such a fab resort, and only an hour away on a slow day... needless to say my ideas of becoming pro-skier this season were rapidly quashed with a couple of very silly incidents that made me lose all confidence on those two planks strapped to my feet. What is that all about anyway, I ask you...

I did migrate to one board - for about 15 minutes - until I took the instructor's advice in part and disregarded the rest, in hindsight I recall him saying when you want to stop "...point yourself up the mountain and then use your free foot (you learn with one foot out of the bindings) to stabilise yourself". I got mentally stuck on the last bit & tried to 'stabilise' myself whilst hurtling downhill at speeds of up to, well, it had to be approaching 0.003mph, and my left leg (the loose one) rather attractively splayed up the hill whilst my right one continued going where gravity (and a large snow-board shaped bit of wood) took it. Down. I swear I heard the tear in my groin, I certainly won't forget that rush of hot pain in a hurry. Mamma-Mia... Still, my teacher was very sympathetic... he laughed. A lot. In fact I'm not sure he'd laughed quite that much since he landed in sunny snowy Kelowna from Cambridge UK a few months back. He gave me the accolade of 'position of the season' and my money back... he was very sweet but I think there was a sinister edge to him, probably the comment "I killed one" that he bellowed for all to hear to a fellow instructor as I hobbled around the nursery slopes looking for sympathy...

So, whilst we took every opportuntity to play in the snow, tobogganing, sledding... with Andy & Tom making slow & steady - in fact quite exceptional - progress on their chosen white stuff mode of transport, I chose to find other ways of entertaining myself, snow angels, snow men...mulled wine.

Amelie & Tom, with a day of private lessons with the "Ninja" were rockin' on the snowboards... I must spend all my time & energy blubbing into my balaclava, so proud, so, so proud of my babies.... Tom, well, Tom, what a superstar. He'd already mastered the skis after just a few hours a couple months back & now decided that he'd like to try the board, how fab did he look? I think I'd probably kill for those stomach muscles and that core stability, and I mean really kill somebody... he may as well have been held up on all four corners and escorted down the mountain with the grace & decorum he demonstrated, skimming the snow (technical term, sounds good eh?)...this boy did good, as ever.

Not to take away from his sister for one moment, the seven year old mini me, except she was a hot shot, all her worries and anxieties funnelled into impressing her teacher & her brother, by the time I caught up with her (tactical absence) she was hurtling down anything that resembled a slope, with a "yeah, whatever Mum..." snow-dude face on. Pass me those tissues, please...

So, the man of the moment, Big A, ground away at his technique, he was labelled quite innocently by a seasoned skier as a "Two Plank W*nk" (I kid you not) to the absolute innocent bemusement of the kids who just know that in England that word is something they'd be locked in a cage for saying... apparently this is not a word in the Canadian vocabulary.... So, he steadily improved, looked hot in his pants and achieved more than I could have dreamt of in the season whose finale is this weekend coming. He'll make it up the mountain once more, this time alone, to wade through the record 47cm in 7 days and, I'm told, another 15cm overnight last night, before the mountain closes to ski tourism, the lifts get packed away and the shutters go down until next season, although someone did tell me about some funky li'l fish-scales that you can fix to your skis and carry on skiing up the mountain until the green stuff pokes through... I'll pass.

So, we did the white stuff, conquered it all in our own way, Andy & I diversified and went cross country skiing (huge fun and great exercise) as well as spending our 17th anniversary snow-shoeing, we looked very silly and clearly went very late in the season, more like mud-shoeing... but a great, fun & happy time was had by all in this strange wintry land. It's good to be alone on the top of a mountain, with nothing but a few munching chipmunks, cougars... awakening bears....

Now we have opened the pool, bought our seeds for planting exotic vegetables and are dusting off the suntan lotion in preparation for the next big phase...

That was the white stuff story... next stop, friends & high places :)

As ever, keep commenting, love to hear it....x

Friends & High Places...

2010-04-06T21:33:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's been so long, did I really only write back in February? Sorry chapettes, that really isn't good enough, is it?

I'll bombard you now, just wait & see...

To be honest, I've been at a loss as to what to say for a wee while. The whole 'new Canadian' thing must get a tad boring, compare this & that, "Oh how wonderful it all is... blah blah blah", and how we miss you so... but it's kind of what it's all about really, isn't it? Without that what to blog on our 'Big Canadian Adventure' blog? So there we have it... I'll tell some more stories, draw a few more comparisons and place you in our world for a few gentle minutes so you can get a feel for where we're at. All of which should be bed-down on a foundation of "we miss you terribly" and, at any given moment one, or all of us, are struggling with the move in some guise or another... I won't harp on about all that, but just know it's there. Clearly I'm working on the assumption that you're here because you're remotely interested....

So to cast my mind back there seems an age, and yet our day to day has appeared so... so... routine.

What have we done, I scale the diary for retrospective reminders. Oh yes, there was the Olympics, that was cool - very cool (although, apparently not cool enough on Cypress Hill in the midst of a seasonally uncharacteristic warm spell... can you believe they had to bring snow in?) Should've held it at Big White... apart from that & birthdays there were a few themes; snow, friends, and high places... let's start with the snow...

Canada, according to the new Canadian…

2010-02-08T22:36:00.000-08:00

A few observations of late...

The first & most pressing question for me is:

...Why have some of the Canadians still got their Christmas lights up? Is it not enough that they came out at the beginning of November but to still be up in the middle of February… ho hum.
Teenagers here are very cool. They are articulate, respectful (and respected, probably a hand-in-hand thing) intelligent and have sacks-full of common sense.
Education is amazing. Never mind dropping our standards, we’ve had our eyes opened to how amazing it can be. The schools are quiet, calm places. Students respect teachers and rules. Teachers respect Students, it’s a very inclusive environment and I, for one, love it.
Kids have a plan. They subscribe to a cause, off their own backs, they see the power of ‘we’ not ‘me’ and they take in the bigger picture. I have been overwhelmed with admiration of how these kids, and they are as young as eight or nine and up to fifteen or sixteen, who are raising money for Haiti, organising enormous events, and hosting them without adult input, they could teach me a thing or two.
And it’s not just the kids. At Christmas there were more volunteer opportunities than I have ever seen. More charitable events raising more money for local and national causes than you can imagine. Everyone was doing something. Each school does a ‘hamper drive’ whereby each child brings in something from a pre-issued list, from a small toy to food for a Christmas meal, and all the donations are collected up and delivered to the less-than-fortunate families in the school or, in our case, the nearby areas. There is some poverty here but it is not frowned upon (or milked by an over-dependence on a faulty state-system) and those in need don’t mind saying so. Everything is done very respectfully but the end result is that those families who couldn’t have put together a special meal or give their kids much for Christmas have a turkey, and fresh vegetables. And their kids have presents to open. It doesn’t take much to make a difference.
The lake is quite the most beautiful thing I see every day.
The unity of this place, which is probably incapsulated in all the above comments, is mind-blowing. I get tingles just thinking about it. The 2010 Vancouver Olympics are almost underway and everywhere you go there are messages of support for the teams, flags flying, Go Canada signs everywhere. The Olympic torch came across Canada and we were lucky enough to see it here in Kelowna, in fact we ran behind the torch bearer for a while, with ‘O Canada’ booming out over the PA and the Canadian flag wherever you looked, the 20,000 strong crowd all whoop-whooping, cheering and generally building that esteem that carries this country forth. I felt honoured to be part of it.
There are too many bill-boards obscuring your vision of the stunning scenery.
My prediction for Kelowna in 20 years is a sad one, it’s turning into a mini-LA with lots of boob-jobs and enormous unnecessary chromed vehicles… the decadent homes are fighting for remaining land resulting in smaller plots and larger homes wedged in. It’s up & coming, sure. When it arrives we may just move on to quieter pastures…
When the devastating fires took hold here in 2003 everyone came together to offer shelter, not just for people but for their animals, horses, vehicles. The same was true of last years' fires and wherever you looked there were billboards offering help, adverts placed in the local papers, notices up on walls and street corners. I love how this community comes together. The fires this time were contained with little structural damage, although so much forest was devastated, and with it the habitats and lives of so much wildlife. The stories of burning animals are horrific. The fires of 2003 instigated an action plan for future fires, which was put into action last summer - most of the firefighters were volunteers. When I watch this on youtube it makes me cry. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MVp80WCU-mY (turn up your volume) The fire line was extinguished just a couple of hundred feet behind where we live now, so many homes were burnt to the ground. This is so Kelowna, so Canada for me. I forgot this for a while.
Some things remain constant despite the change in continent. Politics generally, for one. However good it is – and it’s damn good on the whole – the people will campaign for more. More rights, more funding, more voices. I say look at what you have. But then I would, life’s pretty easy here (in my humble opinion) compared to the two continents I have lived in before North America…
Oh, and Doctor’s receptionists. We still owe them a living, and don’t forget to apologise for bothering them if they happen to answer your call….
Canadians trust the English accent. Apparently we’re well educated. Cool.
Travel broadens the mind. Emigration strips you of your identity and you have to fight to get it back. It’s tougher than anything I’ve ever done before. And I’ve done stuff.
In Canada the customer is always right. Companies and government bodies do the ‘right’ thing.
This country amazes me everywhere I look. The future is so bright it’s gleaming. I’m so humbled to be a part of that future, I hope with all my heart that our kids grow up here; that they take the space, the scenery, the politeness, the mutual respect for granted. I hope they never have to encounter a ‘computer says no’ shop assistant or government official, have to be sworn at because they forgot to change lane in time, or worry for their safety on a dark night. Utopia, perhaps not, but we may just have turned back the clock for our kids, its life as we knew it 30 years ago.

It was worth it. Remind me I said that. That's your lot for tonight :)

Those mountains aren’t clouds pretending to be something they’re not…

2010-02-08T21:40:00.000-08:00

What a tumultuous few weeks that was… but I’m back! Full flow. I see the wood despite the trees everywhere, in fact even that forest is beginning to thin out a bit… hurrah. Really thought it wasn’t going to happen for a moment back there...

Stuck in a bubble, looking out at the world, rolling along, not feeling, experiencing, touching, just watching. Hearing the world through muffled ears, putting one foot in front of the other, existing, not sad, not happy, just existing. That was life in my head for the last few weeks, existence.

I had actually come to expect it, it was on the cards, I felt it brewing, mounting, and then just rode the storm. A couple of times Andy asked me what he could do to help & I honestly didn’t know, didn’t even really need any help, I knew I just needed to get past this phase with as little ricochet onto our lives as possible. And I did, I’m out of that ‘phase’ of culture shock and it was pretty shocking, I should coco.

So, how did I get here… well, I guess it started with a trip to some lovely friends’ beautiful B&B and home in Revelstoke last weekend. Out into the fresh air. Beyond the oppressive claustrophobia that is Kelowna in the depth of Winter when the sun doesn’t rise high enough to burn off the cloud in the entire Okanagan valley, all ninety miles of it. I knew I was getting desperate when I migrated towards a newspaper in a favourite lunch venue of Andy & mine, it was calling me with the headline “Gloominess nearly over” and continued to explain that give or take a day or two 22nd February was the day that the meteorological centre of Kelowna expects the sun to reach a height sufficient enough to poke through and burn off the moody stuff until Spring arrives. Phew. I have a date. Structure. I’m counting down, no really, I am.

Revelstoke, good friends; English friends, and fun in the snow helped my head, that and the jaw-dropping scenery up there, scale our mountains up by ten and you might come close. As I’m often heard saying; those mountains, that scenery make me feel insignificant in this world, I like that feeling, it makes me understand that there is one life to live, get living… those mountains will see a million more lives after mine and will stand tall over every one of them, time is limited for us…

And then it all fell into place. Great school reports for our little heroes, two months in for them and they are already thriving, popular, competent kids in a brand new and, in my opinion, rather intimidating place for a village child. If they can do it so can I.

The school has also been a ‘way in’ to the community that I had orchestrated for my own involvement too, I find myself heading up the school Spring-Dance for the PTA equivalent, nothing like jumping in the deep end without my arm-bands, yes I can do it. I can do it.
It’s not without humour, I hasten to add, after several ‘footballers wives’ incidents (we hadn’t seen this side of Kelowna, it can be like LA, poodles & all…) I decided stuff it, no more Mrs Ditsy, stand up & be counted, so I became the arsey Englishwoman for a week or two after my birthday, much to the horror and amusement (in varying degrees) of the ladies who lunch. The horrified ones moved quietly away and the amused ones welcomed me with arms-full of invitations; evenings out, coffee and movie offers… I finally made some proper friends and they are a giggle, and they know the Jules that I am, not the one who had the sickly sweet aura of naïve new girl…

So pounding the streets, drumming up business – successfully (killer heels work worldwide) is beginning to pay off, social events on the calendar for the next six weeks, employed the services of a great babysitter so new life, real life begins here…

When we lived in Greatham I used to travel down the A3 on a cloudy day and imagine that the clouds were really mountains.. if you squint it works. I’d daydream I was here and that was my vista. I’m here & those clouds are really mountains now, they’re not pretending. Time to start enjoying them and everything else this beautiful country has to offer.

2010-01-12T23:28:00.000-08:00

The only way is up…

Actually, I hadn’t meant that last post to appear so down in the dumps. That’s not to say we weren’t feeling it but I had waited for a while before I wrote it in an attempt to tone-down the morose nature of our feelings… there you go, from the emails I have received and the lovely, lovely messages, I guess the sadness seeped through a bit. Thanks y’all, you’ve made a big difference to our lives, we know we’re loved, wherever we lay our woolly, fur-lined, tog rated hats.

So, not to be kicking around in that smelly old gutter for long, you know me, hate dirt, [shudder] what did we do to pull ourselves up… well, I guess it started in an unexpected way with a couple of really positive ‘girly moments’ with two completely unrelated, unsuspecting (and to this day oblivious to their input) female interactions which made me understand that there are lots of people out there with which I can be friends and have a giggle… said two were part of the school contingent, which is fine & dandy as a lot of my best UK friends were found in this way, there’s hope for me yet I thought.

Teasing apart the sadness and overwhelming sense of loss is the catalyst for forward motion for me, it’s the way I operate, so, my sifting through the furball unearthed a few unsuspecting needs and desires like friendships, interests, more reliable and frequent contact with home, and work, work, work – I need something to spark this brain matter, the same mushy stuff that has been overloaded in the last few years with psychology degrees and ‘new life’ preparation.. this baby needs some mental stimulation.

Funny how it happens with me, usually it involves a lack of proper clothing – explain later – and a ‘light-bulb moment’ in the shower. No disappointments this time then. My whirling dervish starts with a solitary thought upon waking and there’s no stopping me, it must be amusing to watch… I get out of bed with a head brimming with ideas, business ideas, marketing ideas.. the world is my oyster kind of ideas, there isn’t anything I can’t do when I’m in this frame of mind, I guess it’s what gets me signing up for mad half-marathons and stomping into big corporate entities in my killer heels… if only they knew those ‘introduction’ calls were generally made in my half undress, yesterday’s mascara under my eyes, tangled hair… when you have to seize the moment there’s nothing else to it.

So, from stagnant pool we moved to Andy passing his BC driving test (don’t get me started), my girly encounters, breathing life into my old mobile phone (I wrote cellphone then deleted it…) so I can better communicate in the way that I used to, ensuring the laptop was on at all times to receive those skype calls and be able to share a moment – at a moments’ notice. Proper, focussed visits to the grocery store and meal planning for a whole month – don’t laugh it removes the chaos from this situation, everything is chaotic, from answering a phone-call to visiting the grocery store, this week was about calming that chaos and we won.

Yesterday, in my previously mentioned state of undress I began the task – the long awaited and previously worried about task of setting up the business so we can ‘trade’. What an enormous can of worms that was. Please imagine it, no really, imagine opening a can and inside it were worms, all intermingling, when you move one out of the way there’s another to take its place and – once you’ve emptied half the can on the floor and boxed them up again you look back in the can and there’s still so much to do. The task in hand was to pin these suckers down and that’s what I did.

[How do you know which end of a worm is its head? Lick it & see which end smiles…. Amélie, Jan 2010]

So, no more boring you with the detail, the end result once those worms had been tamed was that GallowayCAD Partnership is pretty much up & running now, all legitimately & above board. We have registered & had approved our business name, acquired GST numbers, business licences, we have spoken with tax consultants, municipal, provincial and federal government departments all of whom, wait for it, grab the table, all of whom seem to know exactly what they are doing and, oddly, appear to be singing from the same hymn sheet, shock horror. From knowing nothing I now know everything – yep, everything there is to know about the hoops that we have to jump through to start up our business here.

Business cards are being printed as we speak, by a nice man from Lancashire, and my first potential Client has said I sound ‘perfect’ for his organisation. How about that. I’m perfect don’t you know. Let’s hope he calls me back, it’s been 24 hours now, panic is rising… or I could just call one of the other twenty companies that fit the bill tomorrow, before I get dressed of course....

We went to the library again today, which is in the same building as the ice rinks, and indoor soccer pitches, and indoor running circuit.. to check out the action. Came away with a new membership to the soccer for Amélie, a few library books and a desire to learn basketball from Tom, two company names as potential clients from my perusing the sponsors and Andy wants to learn to ice-skate and to help out with the coaching of Amélie’s team…

I got a book from the library entitled ‘British Columbia from the Air’. I think it just sunk in where we live, this place is amazing. We need to get away into the wilderness for a bit… going out for a while, we may be some time…

♥ Keep on posting, we love your feedback ♥

To blog or not to blog....

2009-12-29T21:54:00.000-08:00

Right. Here I am, sitting at my desk for the third evening in a row, glass of wine at arm’s reach, trying – once again – to blog, I’ve written & re-written too many times. It’s all about choosing a theme, for me.

Blogging is just not blogging if you don’t grab a theme of the last few weeks and ponder on it. That’s the problem though, that’s been the delay; the theme of the last few weeks has been a sombre one, not all lows but a considerable amount more of the low stuff than has been so far in our blogging history.

It’s not that the shine has worn off, nor that the people have become less friendly, less unbelievably generous with their kindness, nor is it that the house has become small or the scenery less dramatic or awe inspiring, it’s none of the above, Canada is still amazing Canada and we’re still blown away by our move… but. You knew it was coming, that ‘but’, it was staring us in the face too and quite ridiculous to think the bed of roses would smell so beautiful for every second of every day. This is real life, right?

Through those perfect rose-tinted glasses, every now and then a shard of loneliness seeps in; we are, in the truest sense of the word, pretty lonely at times. We have some good friends already – goodness only knows what we’d do without them, but there is no way of avoiding the fact that we tucked our lives up into ten previously-owned suitcases and left our comfortable lives, our family, our friends, oh so many wonderful friends, and moved half way across the world to a rather lesser-known world with only each other for comfort on ‘rainy days’…

I guess that Christmas and all it’s ‘familyness’ (I’m allowed to make up words, it’s my blog) was always going to bring it home rather rapidly that we didn’t actually have any family close by, and I also know that after the last year of preparation and the last three months of screeching through life in top gear was bound to slow down at some point and reality was going to hit, we just didn’t duck in time and some days in the last week or two have been pretty hard for the grown- ups in this equation… the smaller ones (with one or two emotional exceptions) seem pretty unaffected, so far.

The book (our emigration ‘bible’)(don’t snigger) says we all experience Culture Shock in one guise or another, let me elaborate, if I may. I’ll try to keep it brief:

Stage One. The honeymoon stage, lasting from a few days or a few weeks, uses words like ‘positive’ and ‘euphoric’ ‘insulated from everyday life’… I think we can safely say we experienced this stage.

Stage Two. Rejection or Distress stage. The complete opposite of the above. A period of crisis. Starting to deal with the normal pressures of life – except that this life does not resemble your life. Possible regression into your culture (what do they mean, like my desperation to find the equivalent to Jonathan Ross & a curry on a Friday night, never..…?) Seeking out other expatriates (not on your nelly)… only good things back home are remembered…

Stage Three. The flight Stage (“because of the overwhelming desire to escape”). This section uses words like ‘Depressed’ ‘Angry’ ‘Impatience’ ‘Focus on negative aspects’ ‘Sadness’ ‘Incompetence’… I’m not going to go on, you get the picture… it’s not a nice place to be.

You see, Andy & I have discussed this at length (as you might imagine..!) and we have followed this ‘stage’ path, albeit on a fairly minor (although still quite distressing) level… We accept that we are not coming into a brand new culture, with a different language or an entirely different way of life, it is, however, still unbelievably exhausting to have to re-learn everything you took for granted. We are quite firmly, placed at Stage three, having experienced one & two almost in-sync over the last eight weeks. Somebody said to me recently (in jest… don’t want to make them feel bad!) that some people are never satisfied… we are so satisfied, truly, we are, satisfied, fortunate, living life to the full, don’t want to come home, but still we can feel frustration… incompetence – (that’s my one, Oh yes, I forget by the hour that I am a competent business woman, wandering around here sometimes like a ditsy blonde without even trying to engage my brain, it’s so befuddled with everything else), and homesick. That’s Andy’s department, and mine I suppose if only I was to admit it…

So there you have it. What’s that? You want to know about Stage Four? Oh yes, there is light at the end of the tunnel, in fact we’ve even been tasting the air over the last few days, yes, Stage Four is much more like it… and we know we’re nearly there;

Stage Four. Recovery Stage. Integration, adaption, “the environment doesn’t change, what changes is your attitude towards it..” You attain more competence in your surroundings (I’m still not measuring my butter in ‘cups’ for goodness sakes.. what’s up with weight??!, OK, perhaps I’m still at Stage Three..) Feel more ‘at home’ realise the place has good and bad points like any other…

Yes, we dip in and out of Stages Three & Four, at ease, no real stress but just a realisation that this is kind of ‘it’, what we worked for, saved for, fought for no less, you all know what a struggle it was, we did it & we have it, so no more complaining (that’s what my book says, think yourself positively out of the negative.. it works, really) we just wanted you to know that there are lows to these highs, what goes up must come down and eventually re-balance ( – I made that bit up) – it’s the law of physics and we’re at its mercy…

Now what is that scratching under my house? I think we may have visitors… large visitors… tune in again soon :)

Bundle up, it's cold out there...

2009-12-06T21:24:00.000-08:00

A month? Never… really? Yup. A month it is. We have been ‘landed immigrants’ of this beautiful land for one whole month. Our eleven suitcases decanted & lined up in the garage, our home has slowly filled room by room, we’ve bought everything from tin openers to TV’s and everything in between. It’s amazing what you take for granted, years of growing a home, I need a paperclip – Oh we don’t have any.

As I sit, the children and Andy are watching a movie and the roast is bubbling away, the house is full of competing smells from the oven to the Christmas tree – I’ve never had a Christmas tree that smelled – and smelled good! At first I thought someone was smoking marijuana in the basement, seriously, I couldn’t understand what this massive smell was, hanging in the air. Did you know they could smell so strongly? It’s beautiful. The tree, quite the most perfect Christmas tree I ever did see.

We looked forward to the tree buying day… they grow here all over the place (funny that!) Christmas tree ‘we cut’ signs everywhere. We just had to do that, experience the ‘cutting’ – an “I want that one” moment, if you get my drift. Off scurries the man in dungarees and a checked shirt, hands so rough that he probably hasn’t even heard of Swarfega…. (that’s for girls) off he kerthumps with his saw, one zip & it’s yours. Timbeeeeeeer.

Well, as it goes, we had none of that! We did try, we drove in, looked at the trees all lined up waiting for their fate (I swear they drooped deliberately) felt completely out of our depth and then drove out again, wheel spinning out of the driveway like Thelma & Louise – straight to the local supermarket & bought our beautifully coiffed, stunningly scented, Canadian Christmas Tree. Cop out? Well, probably, but there’s only so many times a day you can blame your naivety on being “English”, sometimes you just want to ‘be’.

So, it’s here, it’s installed and it’s perfect. Twinkling away in the corner – the corner that was seriously lacking a piece of furniture, no need for that now for another few weeks. The house is positively Christmassy, it’s perfect. Andy borrowed a ladder from a kindly neighbour and spent a hilarious hour or two in the dark (he’s determined to be the ‘weird English neighbour’) installing the newly-bought (temperamental) Christmas lights onto pre-installed hooks on the fascia boards and plugged into pre-installed sockets – solely for the purpose of Christmas lights – switched indoors. They don’t just do Christmas here they do Christmas BIG – and I love it! Even the lawns peppered with herds of illuminated reindeer and “Happy Holidays” signs don’t make me recoil like they do in England, what’s happened to me? Aren’t I supposed to be all English and snobby about it? I just get into the spirit of it here and somehow it’s so inoffensive, it’s for the kids & they love it too. Bah Humbug. I’m not buying an inflatable snowman for anyone and you can’t make me. I’m only a teeny bit concerned that our house light are blue (my choice) and red (Amélie’s) making our roof apex look like it’s waiting for the ‘white’ to advertise the Brits have arrived. Toe curling thought…

So, a month of shopping, flat packed furniture, cars and trucks. A month of new schools, bus trauma and PAC (PTA) meetings. A month of old friends and new friends, of introductions and explanations, and a month of finding our feet – one step at a time. What’s been the hardest bit? I guess we’d all say different things. For Amélie, probably the forced independence of having to ‘feel the fear and do it anyway’ of bus rides without mummy and big schools, although she’d say she loves it, she’s made great friends already and thinks her teacher is wonderful. It must be pretty scary to be six here sometimes. For Tom, well, I’ll come back to Tom. For Andy, I’d say the worry of work, maybe.. ever the worrier, and lack of security – balanced out by the wonders of modern technology shrinking the globe and allowing him to continue to work for ever-faithful UK clients. Money out, out, out, he clutches his heart with every purchase…! For me? The hardest bit has probably been having to absorb so much of the ‘different’ all at once. I’m the kind of girl that has to stop and slowly take it all in, allowing my senses to build up the bigger picture; I’m easily overwhelmed with detail and emigration, new culture, new everything just isn’t conducive with my modus operandi. When you realise that a simple trip to Sainsbury’s when you grab the tea bags and the gravy powder without thinking is all out of the window. Now each & everything on the list has to be scrutinised, each label read, each price considered, nothing looks the same, you can’t just run and grab you have to read so many words, who would have thought that shopping would be so darn challenging. So that’s my hardest bit, and my take on Andy & Amélie’s, how about Tom? My portable mini-me. He is seemingly untouched by any of it. He is so unbelievably flexible and 'comme si comme ça' about the whole move. He has absorbed Canada like he lived here for the last ten of his nine years. I am truly amazed by his unflustered, pragmatic approach. He is the ‘head down, bottom up’ kind of kid that I never really saw in our Greatham bubble, he has just got on with it. When quizzed tonight about his best bit and hardest bit he shrugged his shoulders and said “..well, I guess the hardest bit was on my way to school on the first day worrying what my teacher was going to be like – and the best bit was when I arrived to see that she was great”. That’s my boy. Chill out mum, it’s no big deal, it’s not like we moved country or anything…

So, the weather has begun to turn, Autumn is fading, the beautiful leaves are all but gone, the temperatures are steadily dropping and the pool hasn’t thawed now for over a week. It’s minus nineteen tonight… We’ve had a peppering of snow with the promise of more on the way soon and have invested in much more sensible winter footwear. Christmas is around the corner and we’ll be stuffing our pockets full of tissues for the children’s school concert later this week, the big inauguration – never the same unless you have mascara streaming down your cheeks. Every time we pull up the driveway in my ‘van’ or Andy’s ‘truck’ it feels more like home, we miss it when we’re not here and Jules and Andy are bedding in, thinking of our family and friends a lot and finally being able to take my mother’s advice seriously – we’ll never go out without a shovel & a blanket in the car, somehow it seems a bit more appropriate here – thanks Mum!

Bonus Blog - starting school :)

2009-11-20T18:39:00.000-08:00

Starting school... two small steps for some, two giant leaps for others...

I am blown away. I realise, retrospectively, that the load I was carrying somewhere in my inner consciousness was directly attributable to my anxieties about the children leaving one comfortable school and starting another, unknown school.

They were very happy at Greatham Primary - we were all very happy at Greatham Primary, fitted like a glove, a soft comfy old faithful glove. Quirks and feubles, routine and mannerisms Greatham Primary has been part of our day to day lives for the best part of six years. It was just another one of those parts of our lives that we didn't much need to think about, we didn't have to consider.

No such luxury here. We anticipated keeping the children off with us while we ran around, buying furniture, cars, new lives in a box.... and for the most part that is what happened. We thought we'd get them registered by the end of November and they could have a couple of weeks of 'new school' before the Christmas break and then start back afresh no longer the 'new kids' in January.

When they started eating each other's faces off we realised that their boredom was getting out of hand. No TV, no internet, just a few familiar toys and lots more unfamiliar ones, the shopping spree bribes were losing their impact and the parents' tempers were becoming shorter by the day. We had taken for granted the outside distractions that wiled away the hours before, the allotment play areas, the garden-matured toys... the familiarity of the locale which allowed lone trips up the lane, exploration of hedgerows. The individual bedroom space that was full of personal anchors into their lives... none of that here just mum, and dad, and so much boring stuff to do.

So, a trip to the 'immigrant welcome department' within the Hollywood Road Education Centre sealed the places in our very sought-after catchment school for the very next day if we wanted..... Oooh no, I wasn't expecting to hand over my babies so soon, could we postpone a day please...?

So we had a day to 'prepare' and the children had their places in Grade 1 and Grade 4. With children of their own age we couldn't have found a better system. Both children having had an extra year of education than their Canadian peers, Amelie's progress was my worry, more than Tom's - whose classmates would likely be at relatively similar levels to him, given the four years or so of formal education they had received to date, things tended to balance out by then. Amelie's classmates in Grade One, by contrast, had only just started formal education this summer, she has had two full years more than them and my concerns ran deeper than mere boredom on her part, I felt she would lose the enormous enthusiasm that she has always had for her schooling if she were placed in an enforced retrograde situation. No such concerns now though, her class is a 'Grade 1-2 split' which means she is sharing her school day with children who are a year older (but having had the same amount of education to date) as well as half the class who are her age. She gets to play and socialise with them all and her academic ability will fall somewhere between the two. I will, nevertheless, remember for a long time the look on the secretary's face when she asked her to sign something (expecting a 'cross' on the line or a scrawl....) when she signed her name so beautifully. "Oh, she writes already?" she stammered. Better shrink my ego or I'll be slapping makeup all over her face and entering her into North American talent competitions soon....(not!). A mum can be proud of her babies :)

So. Having met the teachers and gone through the paperwork, the e.n.d.l.e.s.s.... paperwork we were now, it seems, parent of students of the Anne McClymont Elementary school. Hurrah! We did it! We got into the best school in town, well, we would say that eh?! There's an ironic link to Anne of Green Gables which I won't bore you with right now but it is, apparently, the place to be. You can google if you're so inclined...

It's huge and, despite allaying most of my fears for the emotional integrity of my children, there was still a big part of me that wanted to run away and take them under my wing... it's OK, you don't have to come here, we'll home-school you or something, I'm so sorry to have put you through this upheaval, now now, let's erase that angst from your eyes....

I probably imagined that angst. When probed, Amelie just jumped up & down and said it was the best school ever and could she please just stay now. Tom - in his wary, sensitive, nine year old kind of way, stayed quiet and reserved, looked around a lot and tried to 'deal' with his anxieties by himself until we could be alone to chat. Turned out he was worried about bullies and whether he had a strict [male?] teacher and was re-assured by our delightful teacher friend that his concerns were unfounded.

So, armed with new 'runners', a lunch pack and gym kit, not to mention being dressed in ...wait, whatever they wanted to wear... the welcome we received at 'a quarter past eight' on Thursday 19th November, not even 48 hours after we decided to visit the education department, certainly verified this unfounded fear for Tom - and for us - we were treated like royalty. We were, for all intents and purposes, the most important thing to happen at the school for the last academic year. This is of course an absolute fallacy, the school is host to a number of high-profile events and guests, but we felt - at that moment - that The Galloways in town was so important that the school engine had stopped just for us. It was a great feeling, and the kids weren't the only ones to 'feel the love'... they barely looked back as Andy & I climbed back into the 'van' and wondered what we were going to do without them for the 'day'.

Never far from my mind and, undoubtedly Andy's too, we busied ourselves with work and admin, of which there is plenty. Collecting them 'at the door of their classroom' at 2.30 sharp was an event in itself. What was I expecting to see exactly? Amelie tied up in the corner, all her classmates throwing things at her?? For goodness sakes', she was so fine I felt bad about ruining it by my presence. She beamed when she saw me but made it known in her own special way, that she was good. That she belonged in this class and they had made her feel so welcome. She had 'a hundred' friends she said, but only remembered one name. That was good, she could learn a new one every day, after all all the school only had two new names to remember, they had the whole school to try and store in their grey matter.

Tom (met by Andy at his door) came round to Amelie's class with a new self-assurance. A certain je ne sais quoi that he hadn't gone in with. His fears and worries had lifted without him having to 'share' too deeply, he had come away with more friends and more attention in one day than he could have ever imagined. He said all the girls had been all over him, except one that was, and she loked like a cat so he didn't mind about her.

So, as an 'additional' bonus blog that was all that was about starting school for our little people. They miss their friends, especially our little lady, but they don't stress about it and they're going to be just fine with their new school buddies. Tom (as we speak) sleeps clutching the pencil that one of his new friends gave his inscribed (in 9 year old lead print) 'welcome to Canada my new friend' having gone to bed saying "I can't believe I'm saying this Mum but I can't wait to get to school tomorrow..." and Amelie having set out her 'pink' clothes for anti (pronounced an-tie rather than ant -ee) bullying day tomorrow asks me pleeeeease when can they take the yellow bus to school. So end of an era. No more playground chats, I just pack off my children and hope the bus gets to school and the children get off it... and know where to go. Will I ever stop worrying? Give me one more day, they can start after the weekend.. ;)

Oh, and did I mention that the PTA (or PAC as it's known here) meeting is on Monday and they have an extra 'grown-up' pair of hands so you bring your children along. Looks like I might finally be able to get involved in the PTA, no more badminton widow excuses, what a fab idea - they even get to chew on pizza while we grown-ups chew on the fat....
:)

Arriving...

2009-11-20T18:13:00.001-08:00

Well, that went quickly, it appears we have been here for two weeks now...

Strangely, and it gets us every time, we feel like we've always been here. It's hard to believe that just a couple of weeks ago we were living thousands of miles away in a completely different life - a different world altogether.

We liked that world, that world had friends every which way we turned, family at arms length, familiarity that allowed the day to day - the minute to minute - to pass without conscious thought, hours into days, days into weeks into months - all without effort, something we took for granted.

We like this world too. It is such a different world, every minute - quite literally every minute - we're learning new things. How to get here, how to get there, how to drive this car - how to speak the lingo thus avoiding those blank looks, how to operate the 'washer' the ABM (ATM!)machine the petrol (sorry, gas) pump, how you buy bread, rice, coffee... how to put one foot in front of the other, Canadian style. It's fun and exhausting, all at the same time. No friends at arms reach, no family 'popping in', but we do love it for so many different reasons, we're still at the 'pinching' stage...

So where at we at, as we speak?

Well, we didn't take those three weeks so generously offered to us by dear Kelowna friends to stay at their home while we furnished ours. We moved in after two days, sleeping on mattresses on the floor, towels at the windows, we love the 'feel' of this place, we wanted to make it ours as soon as possible.

Day by day (hour by hour for the most part) spaces in our house slowly filled, following exhausting shopping sprees that started as fun and whose novelty expired very quickly. Andy clutches his heart while I settle the bill...

Room by room new furniture filled the gaps, the spaces, pictures (lovingly brought from England) have found homes in new frames on new walls. Toys have been bought and found homes among the well travelled toys, merged within new bedrooms with enough UK memorabilia, photos, cards, letters, presents to remind us where we came from, that there is life outside Kelowna, and people in that life who care... we are all consumed.

My BC driving career was bump-started (quite literally!) with the purchase of my dream car. The proud owner of my Chrysler Grand Voyager (or Dodge Grand-Caravan in Canadian) somehow doesn't mean the same thing... I now brave the stop streets and filter lanes with their lights flashing freneticly for me to turn left (..or is it right?) Everyone is so patient, my waves of alien apology to unsuspecting road users for my sudden braking or lane overlaps are met with beaming smiles and waves, hat tipping and offers of assistance. I'm reminded of the time I drove up to Wandsworth and realised (in plenty of time) that I needed to be in a different lane. What followed made me quite literally fear for my life as, clearly, needing to change lane was a hanging offence amongst the London drivers. The language and gesticulation was angry and blue (despite a young Tom in the car) and really devastatingly upsetting for a village chick like me. No such worries here.

So, here I sit, listening to CBC rather than BBC (still no TV, Internet or phone) the Dimbleby lectures beaming through the house, kids asleep and Andy ventured to his first Kelowna badminton, yes really. Nothing new here then!

Work has streamed in, the kids starting school before the end of the week, car bought furniture bought, suitcases [finally] all unpacked today. We've had snow, ice, glorious fall days, we've had big grey turmultuous clouds but are yet to experience the 'gloomy' Kelowna we were told to expect - maybe the next update will be somewhat less 'sunny'.

Still, we love our home, our life, we love our new neighbours, our 'old' Kelowna friendships have reached a new depth and we do, really, feel at home here. Life is good.

To quote a great friend's leaving gift to us "no dream is ever too big", we're truly 'living that dream'.

Come back again soon & we love to hear your comments :)

Leaving....

2009-11-07T20:31:00.001-08:00

Well, that all went in a blur...

One day we were saying goodbye's - so many sad goodbye's, and the next we were on the plane...

There was a bit in the middle, of course. The bit where we turned Tom's room over to be the 'packing' room and loaded up the suitcases bit by bit... taking a bit from here and putting it in there - I never knew a man's shoes could weigh so much, still, it gave me the excuse to load another batch of 'essentials' without guilt, to compensate you understand... Also the bit that involved 'making good' our home for tenants; the painting, the glossing, the washing, scrubbing, cleaning. The fixing of roof's, the sorting of woodsheds and enormous garages, the sticking of wallpaper and removal of hooks, the endless trips to the dump, the endless evenings packing, by crikey riley that was a busy few weeks...

So, fighting with scales and heavy suitcases - and the inevitable last minute panic - we can't do it - we'll have to pay for yet MORE suitcases..., finally, in a blur of cleaning fluid & testosterone pumped muscles (even mine) we found ourselves loading the [slightly knackered] old taxi that arrived to take us to the airport. Loading that took almost half an hour (all the while engine running...so to the glorious scent of diesel...yeuuchhhh). And we were off.

Nothing, from the moment we left to the moment we arrived went wrong. Not a sausage. The journey was smooth, the porters were happy to be paid to take us to the check-in (it looked like something out of a 60's film with porters ushering the 'rich' people onto the ships, scurrying on behind with their 8 foot high trolleys, loaded to the brim with 'trunks'...).

So, check-in & flight marvellous (in fact flight less than half full so huge space everywhere) what a pleasure, Tom had a row to himself and took full advantage of the attention bestowed upon him by his adoring Canadian hosties (sorry, 'Cabin Crew'..). Immigration (albeit a bit daunting) in Calgary all straightforward - straightforward in a kind of 'don't mess with the bullet-proof jacket' kind of way - and then, all of sudden we're in! Fully fledged Canadian Permanent Residents, Landed Permanent Residents - stay as long as you like, Welcome to Canada...hurrah!!

We arrived in flurry of suitcases. Flurry. That doesn't seem a big enough adjective. The suitcases were not at all flurry-like, or flurrious, they were heavy, and cumbersome and clumsy - and there were eleven of the damn things. Full of everything from kitchen implements to photos, from Wii Fit to running gear and salt cellars, plectrum to Crayola... anything you can imagine and a million things you can't. Oh and instead of the kitchen sink we also brought our two computers. Bubble-wrapped mouses (not mice) and all. That was a big 'ole cargo and it drew a few stares....

So that was the leaving. It turned from loooooooonng drawn out sad, solemn 'what are we doing's to Hurrah! We made it! and I don't mind admitting that the moment we touched down in Kelowna, even after eleven hours travelling... the moment I saw the red LED sign saying 'Welcome to the Sunny Okanagan' I knew we were home again, because I know whether or not the sun is really shining here (and it was) everyone is so nice, so friendly, so welcoming, the sun always shines in Kelowna and you can't help but feel at home. Our home.

Check back soon for our latest post - settling in :) Our new house and our first few days of our adventure, it's been fun :)

(As soon as I find the lead to upload photos I'll add some on... could be anywhere... )

Feel free to leave comments below, we love to hear what you think of our bloggettes ♥

Two weeks to go....

2009-10-22T13:29:00.000-07:00

Actually, it's thirteen days. But who's counting?!

It's been a bonkers few weeks - lack of entries on here deliberate in a bid to retain your interest - nonetheless plenty been going on, the house is a mere shadow of it's former self...

The loft is loaded - it started two or three weeks ago with all non-essential kitchenware migrating in droves up to our 'second floor', you know the sort of thing, the vegetable chopper that never got used, kids baking set (cause none of us have enough patience to fill teeny tiny cupcake holders and use teeny tiny rolling pins, however cute they are...) so, non-essential kitchenware and all surplus crockery made there way up the wooden hill. Soon to be followed by all pictures frames, relieved of their pictures (easily transportable) and pretty much every ornament, trinket and item of furniture that hadn't been sat on for more than a week.... gone.

Quite emotional actually, packing away the children's lives - those photos of the kids by the back door might be hideously unflattering - put up out of a warped sense of pride, but they're our kids, our histories, our past. All in a box. Past in a box, should patent that idea....hmmmm.

So, long story short, cars sold, not yet collected, house packed up as much as we can bear two weeks ahead of time (OK, OK thirteen days..) provisions used up never to be replaced (no more honey in this house, use the jam instead..) with me, scratching my head wondering if I can make that washing powder last two more weeks and, for goodness sake, don't come round here for a pee because I'm simply not buying anymore loo roll....!

We are tenants and we have tenants. Everything sorted. Our Clients are very happy for us and - in their droves - are coming with us in spirit, which is fab, cause their spirits pay the bills with real-world money too. The utilities have been called day after day after day and every minute of the day is taken up with really interesting stuff like medical insurance and post redirection, school finishing and starting and dentist visits, gas certification and energy performance certificates, inland revenue and eBay... WAKE UP! Sorry, drifted into banality there, some of this preparation really is mind-numbingly endless....

So, our 'not leaving party' has grown legs. What was a visit to the pub with a couple of people has turned into a 60-80 person turnout as word has got around and anyone who has kindly asked us round for dinner before we leave is coming. It wasn't meant to be this way, we wanted to just slope off into the sunset, backpack on, to the odd high five, see ya later... Oh well, off I trot into the sunset, I'll post the photos of the 'we're not leaving' definitely NOT a party after the event (obviously...) and then you won't hear from us until we're 'Landed Immigrants'. How exciting! Even I feel a bit excited when I write that, 'immigrant' isn't a swear word in Canada, they make us feel so welcome that through all my nerves and anxieties (the kids will be OK won't they?) I can see a beam of light, reminding me why we're doing all this.... My goodness I'm gonna miss you all. X

It's Official!

2009-09-24T12:29:00.000-07:00

So, there we have it. Our shiny new visa's fresh and warm from the Canadian Embassy today. Hurrah!

We snuck the children out of school under the cover of playtime and darted to the train station to head up to 'town' for our ceremonial descent on the Embassy. Both were wary of our motives and tried to negotiate sweet treats or trips to the London Aquarium... Tom even said he wasn't interested in going unless we were travelling into 'Bond Street' tube station (still somewhat fanatical about 007...). It just so happened that we were, so, one down one to go...

Anyway, Amelie's first train ride ever started with huge excitement, which lasted ooh, about 3 minutes. Then we start with the 'are we there yet's' It really does happen doesn't it.. very odd.

Big brave grown up Tom took charge of his ticket and showed us all how it worked up there...

Well, long story short we did arrive in plenty of time to the same loooooong queues as a fortnight ago. That time I was alone, this time I had family buffers. It was great. Even saw the people I was chatting to last time, huge camaraderie, I love it. Us against the... well, I don't really know what we were against, uh-oh the Canadian passivist attitude has kicked in already; we're not against anything together, we're in it together, especially those of us that have been in the 'system' for upwards of three years. Those three monthers - pah. The patience we have had to learn, the highs and lows of three years of limbo...

And we have our brown envelope with '93' in the corner, loaded to the hilt with official documentation to take with us, Andy took charge of the bag - containing the envelope and I overheard him saying to Amelie (who thought she was being funny by opening & closing the bag zip) "Leave the zip alone Ams, there's three years of my life in that bag.."

So we have it. We have the photo, if there had been a Canadian stall outside the embassy selling the biggest load of tat I'd have cleared their decks for them today - WE'RE ONLY FLAMIN' IN!!! Whoop Whoop de Whoop!

I love my visa, if I look hard enough I can see the blood, sweat and bucket loads of tears etched through it amongst it's watermark....

So there you have it. We're officially Permanent Residents of Canada. We couldn't be happier! This means we can go on our terms, when we want. They've said we fit the bill - the Canadians want us to go so that's alright then, we'll go!

Oh - and did I mention we booked our flights? We're packin' up and movin' on out on Wednesday 4th November...

Thanks for tuning in... until the next time :)

PS - Please feel free to leave us your comments below ♥

Passport-less of Greatham :)

2009-09-10T12:21:00.000-07:00

What a bizarre experience that was. Flew to the train station after a last-minute change of mind regarding routes up to London... long story.... juggling keys and train tickets, handbags and 'light reading' (Culture-wise Canada..) dropping my apple (didn't know they exploded like that) and clinging on to our precious passports, the passport request letter from the embassy and photos - 2 more of them each, the photography shop knows our faces so well they could probably sketch us in their sleep...

Anyway, sauntering across Bond Street, sucking in the London atmos for one of the last times I slowly made my way to the Embassy. The Canadian Embassy. I can hardly believe that for all these years in this immigration process and all those times I've been up to town that this was the first time I had actually seen this place in the flesh, as it were.

I don't know what I expected, maybe a little band outside, some ticker-tape, bunting perhaps...

But there it was, a commanding Georgian building with an enormous flag wafting around in the wind. I don't mind admitting that I was quite moved to see it. The building I mean. I know it sounds very odd, but for three years this place has been synonymous with power, with angst, anger even, frustration, despair, infuriation at times. This building has been built up in my mind to house robotic box-ticking personnel, surrounded by dank grey walls and piles of dull brown cardboard boxes. They have no art on the walls, they all wear 'beige'. There are no phone lines in, or out of the building. They have to book time at the computer and be guarded while they use it to ensure they only correspond using bureaucratic speak, phraseology that would fit in a council office drawer quite well....

This of course is not how it is at all. This is just how my schema has it. My psychological schema has created it's own virtual world and, just like when you meet someone for the first time having had a telephone relationship for years, it wouldn't be long before the 'face' of the embassy would return to being that in my mind rather than that of reality. That lovely French lady who smiled so warmly at me when I finally reached the end of the 'line', who laughed about how there wouldn't be any English people left in England soon, that lovely colourful lady would soon, again be beige in my mind. Poor thing.

The queues. I wasn't expecting the queues. Sorry, I should be calling them 'line up's' now eh? I don't think I was really up on what to expect was I? Yep, it stands to reason that if the Embassy (still can't kick that capitalisation habit, respect, see), if the Embassy is only open for dropping off or collecting passports between 2 & 3 o'clock on a Thursday then the world and his guide-dog would be waiting. How naive I was.

So, I joined the line, choked back a tear or two, soppy mare, wished Andy was with me to share this moment and waited my turn. Three years waiting and finally I'm handing over our passports for them to heat-seal a pretty Canadian Permanent Residence Visa into each one ... only they don't actually do that bit yet for real because we have to actually 'land' in Canada before we become residents, these documents will just say we are allowed to become residents...

So. The final wait begins. Fourteen days and we'll be up there to collect the documents. Back in the same line up but this time I'll go right instead of left. This time we'll be one of the new Canadians coming out of that door trying to stifle the desire to lift our shirts above our heads and whoop-whoop down the street.... This time, it really will all be over. It'll be our destiny in our hands, not anyone else's hands, we'll be in control of our new future.

So, back to the hum of the computer, and the two piles of 'to do', the 'work like you're not just about to turn your lives upside down' pile and the 'prepare for Canada' pile. Can you guess which one is bigger.....?

See you soon :)

It's arrived!!!

2009-09-06T15:01:00.000-07:00

We got our Passport requests!! Hurrah Hurrah Hurrah!
We're all in a turmoil (what on earth the neighbours must have thought....) whoop whoop whooping around the house for a few minutes, such a long time coming. It's been three years almost to the day that we embarked on this journey and we're almost there, there are a multitude of emotions bubbling around with a predominance of excitement and exhilaration - the time has come - now we must GET ON WITH IT!

Vague plan:
10/09/09 Take passports to Embassy
24/09/09 Colllect passports from Embassy (all visa'd up!!)
23/10/09 Kids finish school
24/10/09 Pub gathering (not doing a party due to high emotional charge!!)
02/11/09 Depart for far away land ....

Cool - we're off!! :)

Still waiting....

2009-08-31T10:35:00.000-07:00

We're back from a fantastic three week holiday, but sadly the Embassy news we were so hoping for still remains in the 'in tray' of the powers that be.. alas we still wait.