The bureaucracy of hope

We're in Vancouver!  After months of Hannah's work permit dragging through the Canadian Embassy, Chevron said "just turn up and ask for one at the border."  So we did.  What could possibly go wrong?

My country-swapping lifestyle isn't all the suave, jet-setting, James Bond stuff that my blog may lead you to believe.  It's all about standing in queues and making sure the right forms are filled.  We were once turfed out of the US Embassy in London, after waiting for three hours, because our visa photos were the wrong shape.

Canada, as you may have heard, is a bit more laid back than her southerly cousin.  The queues are shorter and more polite, probably because the Queen is Head of State.  But queue we inevitably had to, for about half-an-hour, and when we got to the front Hannah almost wilted under the intense questioning: "Do you work for Chevron already?" "Yes." And that was, quite literally, it.  After the details were tapped into the computer our new visas were printed and stapled into our passports.

It was when we were departing the airport that the fun started.  There's a fee for work permits - Chevron, in its munificence, furnished us with a Canadian money order especially - and you can't leave immigration until you've paid and got an official stamp on the form you hand in at the exit queue.  Except that our processing lady gave us the stamp without asking for reimbursement, and we left.  "We didn't pay!"  Hannah suddenly exclaimed as we officially entered Canada.  "Wait here!"  She scurried back into the arrivals hall.

An hour later I managed to find a pay phone and call her.  "I can't talk," whispered the voice on the other end.  "I should be out soon."

You're not allowed back into arrivals once they've let you out, even if it's their mistake.  So Hannah was shown to a special area, where she joined another queue.  A queue made up of the people who weren't allowed into Canada because of "issues".  She described it vividly when she eventually made it back:  "Don't lie to me!" an immigration officer was telling one woman.  "I know you're lying to me.  If you lie I only have one choice, if you tell the truth we have options."  Two guys were explaining to police that the brand-new merchandise filling their suitcases was decoration for a restaurant.  Another lady had previously come into Canada on a three-month visa and stayed for a year.

When Hannah eventually got to the front of this line the officer was very confused, and asked several times why she was there.  "Well...thank you for your honesty," was his final response.  "It's my most time-consuming bit of honesty ever," Hannah replied, but with that lovely smile of hers.

Oh how we laughed when she reappeared, just as I was about to file a missing person's report.  She admitted to feeling intimidated which, if you know Hannah, is no small claim.  But the upshot is that we both have work permits.  Yes, for the first time in five years I can earn money!  Which brings complex and confusing feelings that will take several months of shopping and lunching with new Canadian friends to work through.

North by Southwest, and Pete doesn't understand why people complain about the leg room.

The British successfully invade Canada, again.

Amusingly-shaped vegetable

Always funny.

And then I cut him up and ate him!

International family

It's been fairly standard week of cooking, cleaning, and raising the next generation thereby guaranteeing the human race doesn't go extinct, but a few things have stood out and those have been visits to and from family.  Not our family, other people's, but then we're all one big happy family, when you think about it.

First off Florin's parents popped over.  They've been staying since his wedding, but until now had not been served the finest cappuccino in Walnut Creek.  I set them right by whipping up a few cups, and Peter got to practice his Romanian while Florin translated.  They're back home to Romania today, and their son and daughter-in-law get their bed back.

Then we made the trip to see a new family member, Genevieve.  Our baby was once as small as her but you forget this in his current happy developmental stage of pinching and falling on you.  Genevieve is gorgeous, Pete showed his love in a pinching fashion, and Lauren and Nate are doing well.  Nate's paternity leave is up today and he had to go back to work - just typing those words sends a shiver down my spine.

Finally, I met up with Ron and Iris (Ian's parents, Ellen's in-laws, Meg's grandparents) in SF.  They're on a tour around California and even managed to sneak into a closed-by-shutdown Yosemite.  Shhh!  I gave them what might be the last Davies NorCal Tour, taking in the old sites and bagging as much free Ghirardelli's chocolate as the greeter on the door would happily part with.

Last tour?  Yes, it seems that our long-fabled move to Canada might finally be happening.  We have to have a work permit interview at the border - no pressure! - and then come back to the USA, and various other complications, but it's getting close.  Go you Canucks!

With Florin's mum, and an improvised first words in Romanian book.

There were a lot of prayers said for kids at Florin and Sasha's wedding.

Little Gen!  Hannah shows she hasn't lost her touch.

Nate's a natural.

Happy family, though not quite chronologically possible.

Mother and (our) baby are doing well.



Ron and Iris on a trolley car.

I think I'm going to miss you most of all, Blue Bottle Coffee.

Decaf for Pete.

Not having a functioning government has finally affected us!  The San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park has the best loos near Fisherman's Wharf.  We had to walk an extra three minutes to Ghirardelli Square, and I'm never voting Republican again.

Men supporting men

It's hardest for the fathers.  I've tried to find a dad's group to join but there are precious few about.  There are lots of "Moms and..." things, and several lesbian ones I've considered going along to (I am in a relationship with a woman, after all) but apart from that, nothing.

So when Drew had to take the day off to look after his boy Edward, I jumped at the chance to form my Fathers Together group.  We needed a supportive environment for our first meeting so chose the Jupiter Brewery in Berkeley.  We shared experiences, stories, a plate of ribs and a pizza.  We offered each other advice on which beer was better.  Someone asked if the babies were twins.  Hmm.

That would be the XHP (Xtra Hopped Pale Ale).

I stuck with a classic Hefeweizen.

Pizza delivery

It took a few days, and the intervention of Walnut Creek hospital staff with strong drugs, but today the Prego pizza worked its magic and Lauren and Nate welcomed Genevieve Noelle into the world!  She arrived at 3.02am weighing 8lbs 5oz and measuring 22.5" long.  Her father set a baby size record when he was born so mother is relieved and all are doing well.

If delivery takes longer than 30 minutes, aren't you meant to get the pizza for free?

You eat a Prego, and two weeks later this pops out!

Piracy on the high seas

Fairy tale comebacks don't really happen in sport - that's because fairy tales aren't real.  Except I just watched Team USA win eight races on the trot to literally pinch the America's Cup from under the Kiwis' noses.  I was worried that it would all be over before Dad arrived, and it turns out he left before it was decided!  From a scoreline of 8-1 somehow everything came down to one winner-takes-all race today.

Pete and I weren't alone in thinking we'd pop along to watch.  Around 20,000 friends joined us, with far more USA flags on display than our last trip, but we'd already sussed out the air-conditioned, spacious Kids' Zone which enjoyed an excellent uninterrupted view of the big screen.  We hung out there with the other well-informed families.

Getting back to fairy tales, it was meant to be the Cinderella story of plucky, impecunious Team NZ beating the bottomless pockets of Larry Ellison and his Team USA (who, lest we forget, are actually a bunch of Aussies and Brits).  Turns out that success does have a price, but Ellison can afford it!

With the usual American penchant for understatement, the commentators declared it "the greatest comeback in sporting history".  As with all implausible results there are plenty of conspiracy-flavoured questions to be asked.  How come the three races that Team NZ were leading were called off, only to be won by the USA on the restart?  When Team USA were docked points for cheating, why were races added on so they could still score enough to win?  Did Ellison really build a mechanical whale in case he had to scupper another race?  Will the Queen strip Ben Ainslie of his knighthood for so impressively assisting the old enemy?

Commiserations to Fiona, Dan, Patrick, and all our NZ buddies.  Stealing something from another boat used to be called piracy, but it looks like it's legal on San Francisco Bay.

Off go Team USA.  NZ were already out there practicing their starts.

Plenty of interest - this is an hour before the race even started.

Not a sight I expected to see.



The Kiwis might not have the cup but they do have the beer tent.

There's no confusion about who we're supporting today.

The view from the Kids' Zone.



Team USA sail through the finish and then buzz the crowd.

In the end it was all too much for some.

Look!  It's a fire boat doing that fire boat thing!



Pirate Pete says: USA arrrrrr the winnarrrrs.

Generation gap

Unfortunately, today was the day that my parents had to go back to England.

On Sunday we polished off Sacramento with a trip to the capitol building to see how these Americans interpret good old British democracy.  Turns out that they copy the colour scheme of the House of Commons for the Assembly Chamber and the Lords for the Senate!  That's where the similarity ends, as there's no shouting, waving of papers, or any of the fun that makes the British parliament worth watching.

The rest of their stay was spent chilling in the Creek - officially the best place to get ice cream in the East Bay.  We went to coffee shops, topped up the shopping at Target, and much playing with the baby took place.

Pete and I waved them goodbye at the BART station this afternoon and reality has hit us both hard.  Me because I now have to change nappies and feed the baby, Pete because he has to go back to watching me play computer games all day as his only entertainment.  From both of us: "come back soon Grandparents!"

The Senate chamber/House of Lords.  The two "thrones" in the middle always remain empty to symbolise that no royal power is exerted over this land.  Whatever.

Pete, getting closer to the governor's office every day.

Now on solids, but not that solid.

In Old Sacramento.

We deviated from Lottie's - a mistake.



Grandchildren, the reward for having children.