The Reality Sink

This morning I woke up to the harsh reality of movers coming in at 0830 to begin the process of boxing up our crap ready for transport to Canada. As I wandered about the house trying to get kids ready for school, I looked at the complete and utter disarray that was our life’s possessions and couldn’t help but think, “we’re not ready.”

The fact that I was packing my clothes in preparation for our departure from the house this evening (we’re moving to the in-laws) at approximately 11:43pm should probably have been a clue. Add to it the fact that when I woke up I had to unpack in my efforts in entirety and start again to reassess what was in my suitcase and you probably have a fair view of where my head was at.

Especially given that I’d had a conversation with my future boss in Canada in the morning and he’d said, “Come over for a couple of weeks and then come back and get your family.” It was tempting … get away from all the stress here and go see the world a little. But the reality was that it wouldn’t have been fair on anyone else and right now wouldn’t be a good time to go getting all selfish. So I’m not doing it.

Mind you, I don’t think that we’d ever be ready. Recovery from Spit and Swallow had gone well in most areas of the house, though the toy room had suffered from their being ‘more kids that anyone could have seen outside a child care centre’ as one friend noted on Saturday night.

The movers arrived on time to get a tour from Caroline, which must have just sent chills down their spine as they realised just what state we were in. I said to one of the guys, “you must hate people like us,” and he kind of laughed a bit like he was thinking, but unable to say, “Yes, you are correct. People like you in this inadequately prepared state do indeed shit me.”

I rushed out to take the kids to school and then came to work … 3 hours late. There’s something about knowing that your life is being packed up and not being there to see it that I find just a little nerve-racking.

It will be even weirder to go home at the end of the day to a home that isn’t mine, knowing that the whole adventure looms larger and larger every day.

25 more sleeps …

Ploughing Ahead

Yes, I’ve been a little absent from here of late. There’s been one or two things that have needed taking care of around the house. Something to do with uprooting the family and heading off to the other side of the world.

Painting has been my main activity for the last couple of weeks. It seems that every spare moment sees a bit of painting crammed in to it. Though I can’t complain as our parents have been going above and beyond in their assisting efforts with getting the house ready so that we can rent it out.

An amazing effort really when you consider that had they not been the people they are, not helping us may have assisted in delaying departure and them having access to us for a longer time.

But the way we’re going I think the ‘renovation’ phase of the tidy up will be over by close of business this Sunday. Then of course, I head off to Sydney for a couple of days just to be completely useless whilst Caroline the wonder-wife continues in her relentless way. And there’s still the small matter of sorting out what has to go and what has to stay and where its all going. Minor things, I’m sure.

Friday before spit and swallow we have the real estate agent coming to take photos to rent, so we have to be ready even earlier than other-wise planned, and then a short time after S&S we’ll be abandoning the nest when the movers come and start packing stuff up to ship it elsewhere.

Good God, is this really all happening?!

As it is, departure is scheduled for 1 July. We haven’t actually heard if we have visas and stuff as yet, but we plough ahead regardless and plan on leaving on that date. One way or another we’ll be on the plane.

I’ll keep you posted.

Hell no we won't go!

In the tradition of posts which you probably don’t really want to know about, but that I enjoy writing, I had a call from the urologist the other day as I had to have a follow up from the great severing.

They get you to do this so that they can determine if there are any little fellas still on the loose following the procedure. After all, having gone to all that trouble of letting some guy poke needles around your tackle, you really don’t want to find out that you’re still going to conceive more little tackers!

So the other day I had to send in a sample, lovingly and carefully prepared (and within 2 hours of production). I was going to drop it in on my way to work until Caroline reminded me that I had a new guy starting at work that I was supposed to be meeting. That meant that she got to deliver it for me (I’m sure she was thrilled).

Especially because she called me during the process of dropping it off because she noted on the form that it said that you had to abstain for four days prior. “Um, how long have you abstained for?” she asked me.

“Um, a day …”

“Yeah, that’s what I put, you might have to do this again.”

Anyway, beyond that it went off without a hitch.

Then I got the call from the surgery the other day. I was happy to get the call, because it meant that I didn’t have to ring and make an appointment to go in and see them.

Unfortunately, rather than getting the all-clear that I was expecting, I was told that I would need to come back and provide another sample … in say 2 months.

Looks like I’ve got determined little buggers and they’re looking to hang on! Well I’ll be seeing to that in the next couple of weeks, I assure you! I’m on a mission to do in 4 weeks what they recommended I come back in 2 months to do.


So having put you through that, and to leave you with an image that does not involve my personal testicles, I’ll share with you this story that one of my off-shore superintendents told me many years ago. He was home in the UK and was going out with one of his mates when his mate told him he needed to drop off a sample.

Well that was bad enough, but when they got there, his mate was a little slow in getting out the car.

“Come on, get rid of it and we can get going,” he said to his mate. But his mate sheepishly informed Ken that he had to ‘obtain the sample’ as he hadn’t been able to do it at home.

So Ken got to stand outside the car whilst his mate ‘obtained the sample’. Following this, he followed his mate into the clinic where it was to be delivered. Ken took a seat whilst his mate lined up.

When his mate got to the front of the queue and his form was being filled out, the nurse asked him how long ago the sample had been obtained.

Apparently it was fairly obvious what was being delivered and in the interests of getting his own back, before his mate could answer the nurse, Ken called out loud enough for the entire waiting room to hear, “5 minutes ago love, in the car park!”

And then he promptly walked out of the clinic to leave his mate, red faced and embarrassed to finalise the process.

Holy Contracted Time Frames Batman!

Its all go. I have signed a deal to move to Canada. Start date? July 1 2007! Damn that's soon. Plan at this point is to leave about July 2, stop in Hawaii for a break and then re-launch to Fort McMurray, Alberta until its time for school to start.

Now we just have to finish all those jobs off around the house, sell a car, rent the house, pack the furniture and possibly one or two other things.

In 6 weeks.

Jinkies.

Stormy weather

I went to put Emily into her own bed last night as she'd fallen asleep in our bed. She must have been expecting a rough night, because this is what i found:

My Wife is Wonderful. Reason #2936

We were busy painting doors yesterday. It's just one of the many things that we're attempting to do in the limited amount of time that we have left before we leave these fair shores for Canada.

Mum and Dad were over giving us a hand and we'd done some child swapping with friends to keep them out of the way and/or entertained.

The last thing that I want when I am painting is assistance from anyone under the age of about 14. I don't have access to assistance from 14 year olds so I haven't ruled it out yet, but I may in future depending on the results.

Of course children under the age of about 7 see you painting stuff and they just want to join in. At times like that I put on my stuffy old Daddy voice and declare that no, this is something that the adults need to do.

My wife, endowed with more patience that one person should possibly be endowed with (she puts up with me after all) calmly lets them pick up a brush and assist her. I can't help but admire her willingness to go through that so that the kids get to enjoy themselves.

Its simply one more reason to love her.

Time is in the eye of the delayed

I was on the computer yesterday morning and Michael and Sam wanted to get on.

"Can we have the computer?" they asked me.

"In a sec," I replied, meaning that they could have it in one of those typical parentally obscure time frames which might be anything from literally right now until "oops, I forgot what the time was an 14 hours have passed."

So I was greatly amused when Michael said to me, "Well how long is a sec to you? Because with Mummy, a sec is an hour and a half!"

Walk, don't run

I stumbled across this article online and have to say that I was stunned. Singaporean pedestrians have been crowned as the fastest in the world (within the scope of the study of course).

I am stunned because one of my lasting memories of Singapore was trying to get through a crush of pedestrians to get places because they always seemed to be ambling along at their own pace and getting in my way.

I did note in the article that they said there'd been a 30% increase since the early 90's (I lived there in the mid 90's) so maybe that accounts for it. Its entirely possible that they've outpaced me in the time since. Especially since I've been anywhere but a city walkway that would have the sort of crowds that you get in Singapore.

There's also the fact that my memories tend to be of crowded walkways below ground between shopping centres and the like and so its probably not typical of the environment in which the study was conducted.

But having said all that, its just funny how you can have a perception of a place from time spent there that can be completely wide of the mark.

I stumbled across this article online and have to say that I was stunned. Singaporean pedestrians have been crowned as the fastest in the world (within the scope of the study of course).

I am stunned because one of my lasting memories of Singapore was trying to get through a crush of pedestrians to get places because they always seemed to be ambling along at their own pace and getting in my way.

I did note in the article that they said there'd been a 30% increase since the early 90's (I lived there in the mid 90's) so maybe that accounts for it. Its entirely possible that they've outpaced me in the time since. Especially since I've been anywhere but a city walkway that would have the sort of crowds that you get in Singapore.

There's also the fact that my memories tend to be of crowded walkways below ground between shopping centres and the like and so its probably not typical of the environment in which the study was conducted.

But having said all that, its just funny how you can have a perception of a place from time spent there that can be completely wide of the mark.

Ten

The 28th of April was Michael’s tenth birthday.

The first thing that comes to mind is where on earth did all that time go? I still remember vividly the day that we brought him home from hospital. The first of the tribe, a precious little bundle that we managed to deposit in the cot before looking at each other and saying, “Now what?”

Boy, there’s been a thing or two flash by in the ten years since. From his first steps across out from the coffee table at the tender age of nine and a half months, he turned to wanting to play with any sort of ball that he could get his hands on as he developed.

I think the strangest thing for me now is trying to reconcile the 10 year old with the little boy that went through all the stages in between. Its easy to picture in your mind what your child looks like now. Its not so easy to think back and remember what they were like when they were say 5. I guess that’s why we treasure our cameras and the images that they produce so much.

At ten years of age, Michael is a sometimes confident young lad who is still at times subject to tears of despair when he’s unable to get his own way.

Potentially pokemon addicted, he shows an ability to retain information that one hopes will be applied to somewhat more important areas of his life … like school. I think that he’s taking after me which is unfortunate because he tends to like to procrastinate.

Just last night I was asking him about homework and he mentioned that he had some that he could do progressively over the week. I suggested that the other way to do it would be to do it all on the night that he got it and then relax every night after that.

There was no way that he was going to buy that one.

All in all though, I have to say that I am very proud of our squidly. He’s a mostly reasonable kid who shows the odd concern for his fellow people (I am sure that’ll die off as he becomes a teenager!), especially when he decides that Emily is worthy of help and/or consideration.

I wonder from 10 where the next 10 years will take us, but then, that’s what its all about isn’t it … guiding, watching, praying …