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…
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?” …
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..
