Identity Theft...

Hello friends :)


I have churned this one over for a little while, never wanting to offend in my posts, never wanting to appear too opinionated, too showy-offy, or as though I have an inferiority complex, the whole blogging thing can be quite a challenge at times because we all know how some things that are written in total innocence can be interpreted the 'wrong' way... it is something I have mentioned in the past and certainly holds me back on posts I might otherwise log... but when all is said and done I have to assume I'm among friends and you all know me for who I am - even those that follow my posts from as far as Russia and the Philippines (seriously? How cool is that?!! - 'привет' and 'kumusta po kay' to you all!!)..
I digress..

Now with that big lead in you're probably wondering what I'm going to say, to be honest I've built it up a bit much, but it's all about identity theft. Actually, more accurately, identity loss - and the amazing feeling you get when you turn over a rock in the corner of your new garden and find your identity, it was there all the time, just lurking a little bit out of sight...

You see when we moved to a new continent - especially one that shares so many cultural similarities, language, etc., when you land you think it's just going to be a matter of learning where the post office is and how you buy beer. I honestly think we gave no more thought to how 'different' life was going to be than we did to who was flying the plane that was delivering us so far away from everything we knew...(actually, come to think of it, we did think about who was flying the plane, given our 'connections' in that world... and a fine upstanding character she was too...;). Nonetheless, the point is everything from buying sugar to posting a letter to banking to road rules to a whole new, unfamiliar language, it was different - and you only have to read my early posts to know how much of a shocker that was for us.  


One thing I didn't dwell on back then, perhaps because I didn't really know what was happening deep within my grey-matter was a little matter of losing my identity.  And I lost it alright, perhaps I even gave it away willingly, all in an attempt to 'fit in' and assimilate with the Canadian way of life.  And there's nothing wrong with that, I know, in fact I'd be the first to shout out at our fellow 'immigrants' that they should become part of the culture they have chosen.  I don't agree with swathes of newcomers choosing to settle in a land that is not their own and turning a blind eye to all that makes up their new home, sometimes not even bothering to learn the language, I consider that disrespectful and believe there is a balance between maintaining your roots and your own cultural importance within the new vistas of the country that welcomes you to their shores.  This isn't a political podium and that is all you will hear of my opinion on this subject... I do, however, believe that in a bid to become 'Canadian' I lost a huge part of who I am - and many of my 'now' friends don't really know who I am, not really.  This is completely my doing, and I don't feel I neglected my roots, or my world across the pond, I just neglected myself and didn't have the confidence to say "actually, that's not really my thing", or "do you know what? I have a different opinion about that and it's based on this..."


Oh how crazy is that, really? And how exhausting... I have had times where I am beside myself with emptiness, feeling like I'm a leaf on a pond, blowing around on the surface, sometimes lucky enough to feel sufficiently relaxed comfortable with someone that I allow myself to drop under the surface, sometimes even sinking to the depths and then, before very long, back up to the superficial top of the pond of 'who I really am not' and another bout of small talk with people who don't really know who I am and don't really understand who this person in front of them is all about...


Now, at this juncture, let me make one thing very clear.  I have some amazing friends in Canada.  Truly, some of the deepest friendships I have ever experienced are here, which excites me and makes me very happy, I consider myself very lucky to have bonded with some truly incredible forces in my life and, for the most part, those friendships have occurred because we have shared some of that deep water plunging that I speak of.  I am certainly not saying that I have surrounded myself with superficial friendships or people, nor am I belittling the time it takes to forge great friendships.  All relationships take time to mature, all connections start with small talk and only then does the root take up it's place in your life - I understand that those friendships have taken, will continue to take, time to set deep root, to allow that foundation to become really strong and when I look around me I am forever sweetened by the varying stages of friendships I make here.  Some are brand new and feel like they are as old as the hills.  Others are a few years old now and mean the world to me but still aren't fixed solid yet, still feel as they could float through my fingers - but I hold on tight because I feel that connection.  Of course there are friendships that started slowly and have built through the relative thick and thin's of our reasonably short time here, that odd juxtaposition of needing friends so deeply to help you through some of the darkest days, but not wanting to frighten people away by being too 'needy'... it has indeed been a challenge and of course there are some friendships that have fallen by the wayside, just 'because'...  


I hope it's clear that I am putting the spot light on my deficiencies and my lack of sincerity to myself and not trying to highlight the superficiality of anyone else... that's the last time I'll excuse my words.


So, given that I only let a little bit go and that I was battling to deal with the onslaught of 'newness' (this comes from a girl who has to take a moment to re-group when I walk into the hyper-stimulation of Walmart)... I just haven't taken enough 'moments' over the past couple of years.


Our thought process behind buying a home here was a complicated one.  On the one (blue) hand 50% of us (;) didn't want to make that commitment to the country that wasn't 'home' and on the other (pink) hand there was a desperate urge to set down some roots and stabilise the rocking ship. It's no co-incidence that I suffer from extreme vertigo both literally and metaphorically, I need the ground to be firm under-foot, I can't stand to be unsettled.


Renting for 3 years also played a huge part to my identity loss, I believe.  We were constantly excusing this and changing that, covering over the other with some 'affordable' accessory that was perhaps a little more 'us', always trying to make our mark, to stop living someone else's life.  When you arrive with eleven suitcases and leave your worldly possessions on the other side of the planet it's hard to feel planted and it's hard to show who you are. Maybe it's just me, maybe my line of work makes me gather information about people by the way they fill their homes, much like a hairdresser will always notice your hair and a car-salesman will 'know' what kind of person you are by the car that you drive.  It is human nature to a certain extent, to work out the lie of the land by certain cues - the problem is our cues were built on someone else's values and dreams.  From one rental into another, filling the rooms with unexciting 'throw away' furniture that had no meaning to us or history behind it, our identities were just eroding away. I'd look in the mirror from time to time and wonder who I was anymore.  Life appeared to have no depth, even behind the scenes, we had come to 'live' the Canadian life without really understanding it or finding any connection to it. 


And then came Diamond Road. A little bit shabby, dusty in the corners, down the end of a street that (can you believe it) even had some 'undesirables' living on it... shock horror. No longer were we the only ones who lowered the tone, the ones who didn't mow their lawn or shovel their driveway quick enough ;) And I'm a little bit serious. Just a little bit.


But with these bricks and mortar, and shagpile, and lino, came a massive blank canvas. A canvas onto which we could etch GALLOWAY into every nook and cranny.  We could go mental with colour, we could squeeze our personality in between every floorboard and find some stuff that wasn't beige.  Don't get me wrong (there I go again) there's nothing wrong with beige - and Kelowna does like beige) but beige just isn't me. Not at all. Not a thread of beige running through my veins and when you express yourself through your surroundings it really wasn't any wonder that I lost my identity in all those beige, shiny, rentals.


So to the climactic finale - and if I still have your attention then thank you, I know this one is a little longer than a coffee-break read - the revelation that I'm still here.  I have been lurking inside my head all this time and I've broken free! This is our home, not someone else's, that is MY red kitchen, my gold wallpaper, my yellow feature wall.  Yes I do want my fireplace built like that Mr Contractor, yes I did mean to order bamboo floor - no I don't want it done like that and I don't mind telling you that I have my own opinions now, because we have had a whole lifetime of experience in another country, a lifetime knowing how to install a light and what counter top worksurfaces should look like in our world - the problem is we thought for a long, long while that we had to forget all that we knew... forget our life of knowledge, of experience, of opinions, and start afresh with new ones.  Someone else's ones. Somehow investing in our lives over here with the commitment of home buying has made us bold - and I love it.  I'm back - take me or leave me, but I ain't doin' beige :)


Until next time, my adorable friends, the old ones that love me for who I am and the new one's who might just prefer the real me... live happy :)

Two weeks...already?

Arriving.

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 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 axhauting 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 :)

Bamboo and Buddha...

So... I guess it was pretty predictable that I wouldn't have time to think, never mind write, never mind type... but it has been fun, fun, fun... no really, it really, really has!

So let's start from the now and work backwards.  The now is Andy & I, sitting in our new lounge, bamboo flooring in, walls painted, trim/skirting boards fixed, just one wall waiting for the coolest, funkiest wallpaper to adorn.. watch this space.  The now is also a nye-on completed dining room, complete with ever so cool - over-sized lamp... the kitchen, well, let's come back to that, but the bathrooms upstairs are all complete, shy of a few 'deficiencies', the flooring is all in upstairs, our bedroom 'walk in' is done and the guest room, (aka makeshift kids bedroom) is painted, floored and populated by a bare minimum skeleton of children's possessions.  And the skeleton is downstairs, along with the stuffed raccoon, the countless horns, a mini 50 year old weasel and pretty much everything we own in the world.  OK - everything we own in the world this side of the big blue...

Did I mention the kitchen is on the deck? No, we haven't gone all weird and decided to be completely out of the box, the kitchen is boxed up out on the deck, waiting for the exciting installation on Monday and Tuesday next week.  Tantalising and luring us out there to pull back the cardboard, just a sneak peak of 'that' red, is everything there, is anything damaged...? The kitchen will have to wait.  We've lasted this long with a BBQ and a can-opener... OK, so I couldn't find the can opener, but we had the BBQ and it didn't fail us, we still have gas and we have eaten very well, thank you, for the last couple of weeks without a kitchen?  Who needs a darn kitchen anyway.. We've cooked 'something' on the grill every night and eaten salad. And Tom's new ("I put that sh*t on everything") hot sauce... except the night that our dear beloved friends brought us dinner.  Oh how I feel loved, you know who you are.. :)

So, as far as upstairs is concerned, we're almost there.  Just a few 'snagging' items, the small matter of a kitchen to install, some minor painting and it's only a little teeny-weeny bit of wallpapering, Andy, honest... some funky lights to go up, new furniture arrives in a few weeks, the windows painted and blinds installed... OK, so a little way to go but we can see the light now! This place is AWESOME!

I'll elaborate on the downstairs another day, in the meantime I just want to tell you how perfect this place is... Our little oasis. We're away from the hustle and bustle, we're at the end of a cul-de-sac and we are not overlooked at all.  That lot alone works for me...  We have horses in their paddocks at the back of our garden and the horses hang their heads over our fence to be petted for most of the day... they also hurumph and chortle quite a lot...

Then there's the views.  No curtains in our bedroom yet, more by design than luck, it's just so nice falling asleep under the incredible night sky and waking up to the mist over the mountains... every day a little more snow is gone - which never ceases to amaze me as we are sweltering in 33 degrees of heat as I write this now, tonight...

But aside from all that, this places oozes good-feeling... Werner, the adorable 86 year older gentlemen who lived here before us and finally relented and moved to a more manageable space, Werner is a very special man.  I believe houses, walls, ceilings have a soul.  I believe that the walls absorb the general feeling of the house and I can recognise a sad house very quickly.  We lived in a sad house before this place, those walls had seen too much action - in a bad way - and the house needed time to neutralise that sadness and badness... This place? Quite the opposite.  Nothing but love and passion and happy memories in these walls, just a feeling of calm, and love, and a feeling like it's our legacy to keep this going on...  The notes hidden by Werner which we found as we approached specific jobs, were easy enough to define the man he was and the legacy he left...

Anyway, here were are, time for me to sign off, happy weekend, and I'll send some pictures soon, soon :) Thanks for reading :)

Not stressed.com

So.  It's true.  I'm not stressed.  Well actually, apart from the fact it took me the last half an hour to 'find' my blog in order to post another chapter - that was stressful, but house-buying? pah. A veritable walk in the park...

A few weeks ago - when we were still negiotiating and communicating on all that 'legal' level that I loathe (heart on my sleeve kinda gal, me, straight up and down...) I was experiencing some kind of horrible anxiety. I have a healthy respect for mental health - for my own and for the people around me, and I didn't like being the 'victim' of such ferocious uncontrollable pit-of-your-stomach, all consuming madness, I didn't like that at all.  But when everything was agreed, when the Real Estate Agents agreed between themselves that `we` could do this deal and we were worthy of this place, when the mortgage people deemed our reasonably comfortable income to be 'acceptable', when the house insurance group said, oh okay then, we'll insure you... When the begging bowl went away - so did my anxiety.  Oh how I hate that situation, how I hate being a third party onlooker to the playing out of my family`s destiny... some may call this control freakiness, I prefer to say I want to be in control of where my world goes.  That couple of weeks forced us into a downward spin of 'close-your-eyes, let-everyone-else-do-the-talking-and-hope-for-the-best'.  Oh and beg a little bit.... who needs self-respect anyway.  Highly overrated.

So yes, when there's stuff to do, Jules is cool.  I'm damn good at lists.  So good that I have lists of the lists I'm going to write.  Yep, it's true.  At heart, I'm a Project Manager - I love to co-ordinate and List (there's that word again) I love to organise and gel things together, I'm going to love this Reno thing.  You can remind me I said that in a few weeks...

And it's true, I'm not stressed.  I'm very excited at the work we have ahead, I'm enjoying 'selecting' every. last. flipping. detail for this house, and what I, what we, imagined was going to be a short-medium term flip house is probably going to be the place where I park off until I die, at this rate, how can anyone invest so much emotional energy into one abode and then think of leaving it for someone else to make it theirs? Behind every last door handle is a swathe of if's, but's and maybe's... this place is being crafted - if only hypothetically at this stage - by our very hands...

So where are we now?  We have chosen and ordered our kitchen.  It's red. Sorry, actually, it`s RED. Glossy red and it could be absolutely fabulous - or not.  Let's hope we run with the former.  So kitchen ordered, decisions made about quiet closing doors (yes) lazy susans (yes) waterfall countertops (no)... and are you absolutely sure, Mrs Galloway, that you don't want a corner-bloody-unit... Yes. I am.  I can see this space so clearly (well, it is kind of my job, don't you know...) that every time I go back into the actual kitchen I feel a tiny bit disappointed not to see my grey countertops and gleaming glossy kitchen shouting 'THIS IS SO 2014'... Alas no, we have a little way to go before 1982 departs this abode...

Now you might be wondering where Andy is in all of this.  Did I ride rough-shot over him and make all the decisions because 'I'm a Designer'... Nope. He has been absolutely fabulous.  By that I mean he has given me pretty much carte-blanche, and that;s probably a good thing for everyone... For the kitchen at least.  I'm sneakily suspicious that he has some 'workshop' or something up his sleeve... never trust a husband who says yes to everything... there must be an agenda... or maybe he just likes my taste ;0)

Kitchen ordered. It's arriving late but hey-ho, we'll work that out somehow. (See how un-stressed I am?!!) .. Flooring chosen; tile, carpet - LOTS of lovely European carpet (SO not very north american..) a little bit of bamboo flooring and some coolio vinyl stuff for the kids office.  That's almost all decided and just a day away when we hit 'go' so no panic on the flooring...

Appliances all ordered, that's quite exciting really... all new applicances, I've never washed my smalls in a machine that hasn't been used for someone elses dirty laundry... nice.

We've chosen and purchased our bath.  Much to Andy's disapproval; Andy doesn't believe in baths. That space would be better utilised for a... pinball machine or something. In the bathroom. Yes, a pinball machine would be much more useful than a bath.  Who uses a bath anyway?  ... he does have a point I have to admit - only on here of course, between you and me my love for a bath is purely hypothetical, I have probably bathed twice, at most, in the last 4 years.  That romantic idea of lazing back in a bubble bath, glass of wine in hand, candles lit, silence in the house... yeah... no.  It doesn`t happen.  But I live in hope.  That`s why `we` bought a funky freestanding bath (with a really, really cool tap..BIG cheesy grin.!)

I think that`s everything that we`ve bought... Oh no... wait, sinks and vanities.  Oh yes, and toilets.  We bought three toilets - how exciting does it get.  And who would think buying a toilet could be so complicated... Surely a toilet is a toilet, right? How can you buy a toilet for $60 and a toilet for $600? A toilet is a toilet is a toilet... and we have three of the critters. I said Critters.

I`ll save my vanity story for another day.

Did I mention that we don`t actually own this place yet? That`s OK, we`ve only spent about a year`s salary so far, on the house that we don`t...yet...own.  Just a few more days of holding our breath... Wednesday 3rd April - that baby is ours and then we don the hardhat (maybe not...) steel toe boots and bash the crap outta that place... five days and counting...

Renovation Start Day -5.

Stay safe, my friends, be happy :)

International Property Tycoons...

So. Hello. We're back - it seems life got in the way for a while there - thank you for hanging in...

I seem to wax lyrical inside my own head about life, about the differences between our two worlds (by which I mean our old world and our new world..) and about how I wish I had time to write it all down.  Well, I'm back and I'm waxing on paper, wax paper if you will, because I finally have something worth making the time to talk about...

We appear to have bought a house.  Just like that. Half a million smackeroonies later and we are, in the words of my sister, international property tycoons. Wherrheyyy, don't we feel all growed up :) Ply me with a '98 Chianti and I'll show you our portfolio... Pahahahaa.

It was a long time coming, don't get me wrong, scouring the virtual equivalent of the property pages on a weekly, sometimes daily basis over the past 3 years.  Checking out variations on the same theme and never quite 'getting' it.  We trawled through the doors of various Ranchers, Two Level Split, Walk-out Single Family homes until we could stand it no more, nothing floated our boat and we felt doomed to a life of beige.  Or renting. Or renting beige.  None of which appealed to the point where we really, seriously, considered packing our red and white spotted handkerchief (we'd probably need a couple more these days) and heading back to the other side of the pond.  We were looking to plant roots but nowhere seemed like our back yard.  And then came Diamond.

With it's seventies decor and moose horn welcome, it certainly seemed like an obvious first choice... ahem. The place was Custom built don't you know, in 1981 (the 70's must've lasted a bit longer in South East Kelowna..).  A menagerie of stuffed animals - the real 'hunted' kind, not those that adorn our No. 2's bed... and the faint wiff of Deep Heat (or RubA535, depending from which side of the pond you hail). But it was love at first sight for me (OK, maybe deep joy), but closer than any place had come thus far.  I could instantly see through that shagpile carpet, the wood cladding, wide stone fireplace and alabaster bathroom suite - yes really - toilet and all... this place with it's split level living area and sunken lounge, corridors and modest sized rooms was perfect. Yes, thank you, that'll do, donkey, that'll do...

So, an offer or two later, some high-stress frenetic activity for two weeks while we conform to the scarily unfamiliar Canadian house-buying protocol... we're $10K down, committed to another bazillion and up one very lovely (under all that 70's treacle coating) house. Nay, home.  We own a home. We finally own a Canadian home! 

So on the suggestion of a dear friend that I revive my blog on account of the occasion, here I am. Watch this space for our week by week blog on how we take this 70's baby with her Kaftan and Platform soles, her porn-star shag pile and pot-smokin' afro and turn her into a sleek, funky yet homely personal expression of our European selves... watch out Kelowna, the Galloway's are on another mission...

Until next time, brothers & sisters, stay happy :)