Well, it's been a while since I've posted anything, which is largely due to the fact that I've been pretty busy getting stressed out (to the point where Mrs C has commented on the alarming amount of my hair left on the pillow each morning!).
First of all, our second visa application was rejected just before Christmas on a couple of technicalities. Having gone through the rigorous medicals, it seems the the hugely likeable doctor had been so engrossed in the length of my legs and the quality of my wife's "jugs" that he completely forgot to tick the box that said I was a fine specimen of human health. In addition, the nice people at the High Commission took a dislike to my passport because it was starting to look a little battered - a bit like me really!
So, since we last met, I've spent a day in Liverpool freezing my bahoogies off whilst waiting for a new passport, and a day in London freezing the rest of me off waiting for the High Commission to reopen after Christmas.
Which brings me back to Christmas itself - a largely unwelcome affair this year when most of our time was spent worrying what we were going to do with all the toys that were now filling the spaces we had cleared of old toys in preparation for the big move! Other than the entertainment of listening to the mother-in-law's deeply fulfilling tales of persecution by imaginery nocturnal noises and her resultant midnight spying missions, Christmas was something we agreed we could all have done without really. Nevertheless, for the first time ever, I did manage to watch 'Zulu' right through from beginning to end - largely thanks to Mrs C taking pity on my New Year's Day hangover and volunteering to cook
On the plus side, Christmas now over, whilst most other people are flocking back to work, I am now officially unemployed. In the run up to this lifetime first, I had dreamed lovingly of basking in a brief, but carefree, period living as an unshaven, workshy fop, cultivating the odour of a geriatric badger. However, instead I now find myself having to come to terms with a distressingly accurate body clock that seems to rouse me from peaceful slumber at 8am EVERY morning in preparation for the sacred vigil of watching for the postman, expecting him to skip gaily up the drive waving our passports and visas invitingly.
Now I don't know about you but our postie arrives punctually every day any time between 8.45am and 11am, and by the time of his arrival I'm a caffeine-crazed Nick Jr junkie. Generally, I can't get near the TV even if I wanted to but my four year old is wallowing in the novelty of having Dad at home - She hijacks me on the landing every moring as I attempt to sneak downstairs for 15 minutes of tranquity in the company of Sky Sports News - but how can anyone resist the request "sit with me Dadda and watch 'Mick Jr' "?
I've come to the conclusion that there have only every been three episodes of Fifi and the Flowertots ever made, and I've seen all three of them fifteen times! As if that isn't bad enough, you then get Kevin the Scouser dancing about in a green pullover every morning asking you "Or ey, der yew want ter play Blews Clews wit mee?". Now I know I'm getting older but I don't ever remember kids' TV being that bad when I watched it. Brain soup the lot of it!
Anyway, after over a week of this, I succumbed yesterday and sent a sickeningly polite e-mail to those nice people in Immigration to try to get a status report, only to be told that our applications were shortly to be allocated a caseworker. ARRRGGGGHHHH!!!! Despite taking my money over two weeks ago, and promising me that a trip to London would get me the visas there and then, I now find the applications hadn't even been looked at!
This morning, consciously knowing full well that the postie wouldn't be bringing anything interesting, I manfully fought my body clock and rebelliously slept in until 8.35am! After ritually meeting my four year old on the landing and traipsing zombie-like down stairs to make coffee and take my daily dose of Fifi, I decided there was nothing else for it - I put my foot down with a firm hand and insisted we switched to CBeebies staight after the Early Worms and immediately before Kevin the Scouser made his appearance. You know, there is something strangely soothing about Tikkabilla.
I also decided it was time for a beer with a few old work colleagues this lunchtime.
On reflection, it was clearly the right thing to do - turns out, Mrs C had a phonecall whilst I was out - those nice people in Immigration are sending the passports AND VISAS special delivery first thing on Monday. I should go for a beer more often I think!
OHshitohshitohshit. Now it's really happening and I've got to start all the cleaning, tidying and throwing away I've been putting off for weeks, to avoid getting my hopes up. Oh, and I suppose it would be a good idea to start looking for some flights, because the house will be devoid of all furniture come Friday!!!!
Looks like we are on our way
Whakawhiti te ra
5 comments:
Congratulations on sorting the visas out Chip. From experience, it's worrying about practical problems like these that stops the whole move thing scaring the bejeesus out of you.
Incidentally, my brother is called Kevin, and (you may not be entirely surprised to discover) a Scouser. He's also SIGNIFICANTLY bigger than me and far less easy-going, so I wouldn't suggest there is anything wrong with being a Scouser called Kevin if I were you.
Alternatively, you could run away to somewhere like, say, New Zealand.
We also had the bulky Christmas present thing. Despite the removal people having already loaded our stuff on a boat, and us having repeatedly pointed out to people that any presents would have to go in our luggage, we still ended up with (amongst other things) a full length microphone and stand.
Best of luck to all of you.
Ey up Strawbs. You have a very good point about practical problems. Having now sorted the visas and booked the flights (through Emirates) I'm now starting to cack myself about the whole move thing!!
Does your Kevin wear a green jumper by any chance? He was very proud of his new green jumper the other day...."eh, eh, dew yew like me new greeen jumpeh?"
Can't ever remember him wearing such a hue of knitwear, no.
He does however have my favourite practical joke story. (Better even than the infamous "Cliff Baty" incident).
Whilst a merchant seaman, he used to use the chemicals stored for replenishing the rapid-expansion foam fire extinguishers in a novel way. The way the extinguisher worked was by mixing two ingredients suddenly to create the foam effect. He would dissolve one ingredient in a toilet bowl, the other in the same toilet's cistern, and wait.
Apparently the foam would be past the victim's eyes before they could get the cubicle door open.
ya know.... you take something worthwhile and you ship it overseas, only for people to change it all....you'd think differently of Blue's Clues had you been watching the Steve originals....who the heck is this Kevin guy, anyway??? hehehe
good luck with everything...can't wait to hear about the adventure when the dust settles!
say hi, to Mrs. C and the kidlets!
GOD I am so glad to hear it is not just us!!!!!!! My job in Rotorua has been waiting for us since January now, and the dear doctor in London is still trying to decide if my husband's tinnitus will be a national hazard to NZ!...................
If we ever actually make it there though, I wish we could use your real estate agent. Brett sounds delightful!!
PLEEEEEEAAAAAAAAASE update your blog soon! =)
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