On remembrance Sunday, 11th of November, at 11am in London’s Heathrow airport, returning from my Reading home-hunting trip. An icky place to be at any time and doubly so because of its social significance. I binge-drank a whole pint of pre-flight beer to console myself while watching the memorial ceremonies at the Whitehall Cenotaph.
Condensed recap of the story so far, I
The new stuff:
“I am, today, in the country of application and will be at the time of issue.†This says to me that when I get to the UK I can only renew my passport in the UK. This is at odds with the ditsy-person renewal requirement of only renewing in the Washington DC office where they have my 10yr passport-2. I can’t renew in the US because I discovered this requirement 5 working-days before I am due to fly to the UK, insufficient time for passport renewal US-side before I repatriate. I phoned the Washington British Consular and passport services who charge at a rate of $2.45 per minute for the luxury of talking to a real, expert, person. I explained my situation and the passport expert said:
OH, that is a tricky one
Then put me on hold to discuss the options with other expert people. We made some decisions that will get me to Britain on the day that I sell my home here and 2 days before I start work there. I suspect this is not over yet. Stay tuned.
The Seattle Federal court building is very impressive in both size and contemporary design. The architects NBBJ provide a project description of the building on their website. The Seattle Daily Journal of Commerce also provides some statistics and stories about the building.
Unlike the Reading Crown court I was:
I asked if the Murals and Sculptures in the huge atrium were exceptions to the no-photography rule. Alas, they weren’t. Like the English Crown court the Federal court deals with criminal cases.
Its difficult to estimate the ‘interestingness’ of a case from its title on the touch sensitive display system: ”The USA vs (person or corporation’s name)”. I chose a court where I discovered the judge was accepting guilty pleas and setting pre-sentencing requirements such as psychiatric and drugs assessments. The two cases I watched were illegal drug possession (Valium, Zoloft) by a diabetic in pain because of a kidney disorder who had just lost her job in a pharmacy. The second case was a violation of a parole requirement to avoid alcohol by an alcoholic.
A striking design feature of this courtroom was how similar it is to the court-rooms I’ve seen in US films. There is a central isle through the public gallery to a low gate marking the entrance to the main court area. The barrier is purely symbolic, anyone could step over the low-wall, gate dividing the court from the public gallery. The public and the lawyers enter by walking down the isle. In the UK the door to the public gallery appears to be separate none of the court officials have to walk through the public. Depending on their status the accused enters through the public gallery (not yet proven guilty of anything) or wearing prison gear from a door in the main court area. Just before the judge entered the room the court clerk banged a gavel three times and called out ‘all rise’.
The Seattle federal court building has the declaration of independence decorating a low wall and is reflected (backwards) on the the floor in front of the Court building. This struck me as curious. A supersticious person might think that the declaration of independence written backwards was an omen of loss of freedom. Writing the document on the floor means that any one can walk on it, placing it on a long low wall is just too tempting for many dogs whos natural inclination might well be considered disrespectful of National treasure.
Less than a mile away from the Oracle Mall that does not allow fishing I followed the police dive team along the river Kennet to the Jolly Anglers’ pub where they decided to get out of the water.
Wendy: I bet its cold in there
Lady: you couldn’t pay me enough to get in that river
After looking for a place to live in Reading I returned to the US to wrap-up the move. On British Airways while completing an immigration form, I94
Air staff: do you have a visa
Wendy: I have an advanced parole
Air staff: are you a criminal?
Wendy: Advanced parole is the US document used as a Visa when you have almost got a greencard
Air staff: I’ve never heard of that before
I like the way that British staff happily display their lack of knowledge.
OOOOPS! the BBC reports that the UK govenment has mislaid the indentity information of people who claim child-support benefit. Everyone with a child under 16 is entitled to this benefit.
Alistair Darling does have a fabulous name, at school in the 1970′s my teachers referred to boy-pupils by their family name, can you imagine referring to him as Darling in class. Character building all around I’d say!
I suspect that the people fishing were hampering the shoppers from parting with their cash. All that rowdy fishing and other, unspeakable, disruptive disturbing behaviours that accompany fishing.
I hope I’m not arrested for taking this photograph. Shhhhh….. don’t tell anyone….
In the UK the crown court is a criminal court. The security guards asked “are you coming in or not?” to explain my loitering “I’m a tourist, can I come in? I have a camera” they helpfully direct me to check my camera into their lockers. Without a camera I felt naked.
Wendy: can you recommend a court with an interesting case?
receptionist: I have no idea what counts as interesting
bewigged-lady: there’s a grumpy judge in court 1 and he’s probably going to shout at me
besuited lady: there are some ongoing cases in courts 5 and 6
The bewigged and besuited ladies started discussing the merits of the various court rooms. I wandered off to court 1 to discover an appeal against the police-revocation of a gun licence. The appellant had originally declared his previous criminal conviction for car theft when applying for, and receiving, the original gun licence. The police admitted that they had not checked how the stolen car was subsequently used – in an armed robbery.
The police had new information that they believed made giving the appelant a gun licence a very risky proposition. The appellant’s right to natural justice required that their appeal could address the information that the Pollice used to make the revocation decision. The police did not want the appellant to know the information they had used in this judgement. This case was unique and the lawyers introduced lots of similar, yet different cases as they discussed how to proceed.
The character witnesses in the public gallery behind me, looked like UK versions of the Soprano’s. Posh suits, short haircuts, regional accents. Phrases I overheard from the character witnesses included
“they’re talking about whether or not he’ll find out what the police have got on him”
“that will cost him another 20k”
“his ex-wife must have talked”
The judge appeared genuinely concerned about the appellants ability to exterminate vermine being curtailed by having his gun licence revoked. The witnesses giggled.
In the courts people wore wigs, held bibles above their hearts and swore poetic oaths, bowed to the judge, debated points of law. All dressed ‘well’, even the juries. I was undoubtebly the scruffiest person in the building in my anachronistic mountain equipment jacket.
female escrow agent dressed in a cowbow outfit for an internal morale event: do you have thanks giving in the UK?
Wendy: …..
cowboy escrow agent: oh, no, its all about the pilgrims and the Indians so you probably don’t
When I arrive I will be staying in temporary accomodation, in Reading.
Staying in this quaint bed and breakfast until the home I’ll be renting is available, after 7 days. The rented home is also temporary, until I find a mortgage and a property to hang that mortgage on. Temporary for months.
Given past trends in my life the mortgaged property will also be temporary. Between 3 and 7 years temporary.
Everything is temporary. Permanent is probably a statement of the difficulty of predicting an end-date.
Today I’m catless, carless, surrounded by dissembled furniture and half packed suitcases.
Goodbye blubbing by me and soulful wailing by Sampo. Matrix looked her normal relaxed self.
Matrix and Sampo can’t join me in the UK until the last 4 months of their PETS passport process, 6 months quarantine, is finished. Today they moved to their US foster home.
My Seattle leaving do was full of a hand-picked set of local characters that I’ve met through blogging, tea parties, being a Lecturer in a past life, and being taken to bizarre mountain getways surrounded by gnomes and melon-eating hyennas (you had to be there). LaCroix and I were able to indulge our predelictions for Bass ale, while others drank iced tea, all around it was a stonker! One of the girls that arranged this party had also attended my ‘leaving the UK’ party in April 2000!
By the end of the excellent evening everything was slightly fuzzy. I had to hold onto the patriotic balloons in order to maintain a standard upright position. The infamous grin was on full display all evening.
aaaaAAAaarrrggghhhhhhhhh
Listening to a freakin’ voice menu (FVRM) ask me if the phone-number it has for me is correct: Say Yes or No
Wendy: No
FVRM: I didn’t hear you please answer yes or no
Wendy: NO
FVRM: I didn’t hear you please answer yes or no
Wendy: NO
FVRM: I didn’t hear you please answer yes or no
Wendy: NO NO NO NO NO NO
FVRM: please speak your phone number or enter it on the dialpad
I type the number into the dialpad. Subsequent menu options did not have dialpad alternatives. I tried really hard to imitate the US accent of the FVRM. Mostly failing. Finally:
FVRM: to ensure service quality this call may be recorded.
Wendy: a-hahahahahahaHAHAHA (falls off chair).
A conversation with customer service representative (CSR), ends with my verifying that I understand:
You can cancel my DSL service and only my DSL service, not my phone service which is also supplied by your company. You can only cancel my DSL service now, you can’t take a date to end it on. I can give your company an advance cancellation date for my home phone service. I need to call another number to do this. If I cancel my phone service my DSL will not work. I will still be charged for it until I cancel it.
CSR: that’s right. I can forward you to the number where they will be able to cancel your phone service in advance.
Wendy: yes please.
dialtone (I am disconnected).
When, 3 FVRM, later I found a nice lady she managed to book my home-phone service cancellation and my DSL cancellation to happen at a future date at the same time.
Wonderful lady
Wendy: “is it 7 or 8pm here?” (in the UK implied)
Lady In Pub (LIP): “that’s alright, don’t worry, I forget too, it could be either”
LIP bobbed down at the knees while she said this ducking her head then throwing a swathe of thick black hair away from her face. As if this action might clear her mind. It was almost like a curtsey and made me feel like a princess.
Her polite engaging way left me smiling. I thanked her for the advice and wondered whether she meant:
- either time is ok
- she, like me, doesn’t know which time it is
I adjusted my local-time phone settings to 7pm, hoping to spin-out the pleasant evening.
Unsuitable for sensitive people
I hurridly put my keys (car, both house, mailbox) in my back pocket when I came in. I don’t normally keep them there, too uncomfortable to sit on I was in a hurry to use the 0.5 bathroom. After relief I flushed, pulled-up my trousers, and heard
shhhhplink
I turned to catch a brief horrorful glimpse of my keys sitting in the bowl before they dashed around this bend swiftly followed by my hand. Never to be seen again. Panic followed by thankfulness for my spare sets. Must get another spare set quickly because this is the sort of accident that gravitates towards me at times when I need more composure than normal.
The symbolism of losing my house and car keys this way could be a tad disconcerting if I was supersticious, which I’m not.
Recently a couple looked around the Wendy House 3 times, they bought their dad along too, they met my neighbors and told us about their kitties. They made an offer to buy the Wendy House. An offer in the US is very different from an Offer in the UK, it is not ‘subject to contract’ it is a contract.
This offer was about 30 pages, signed per page, in a standard State format. The buyers realtor meet with my Realtor to discuss the nuances and next steps. This is my paraphrase of what I think happened:
Buyers realtor: I know this offer is below market value but my buyers insisted on putting it forward
My realtor: that’s an insult, that could damage their relationship with my client if they seriously want to buy the Wendy House
Then, my realtor counter-offered to them by producing a different 30 page legal document that I had to sign on every page. The counter offer was a little below the asking price. If offers are accepted there are financial consequences of backing out this constrains people making multiple simultaneous offers. There are time-constraints on responding to offeres. It’s so much nicer that the UK system. They don’t even know what gazumping is out here. My counter offer was accepted and now things start rolling on a tightly controlled schedule with clear legal responsibilities at each step.
According to the helpguide’s description of bipolar disorder, relocating from the NW US to Reading (rhymes with head-ping), UK, is like a temporary outbreak of bipolarism.
“dramatic shifts in mood from the highs of mania to the lows of major depression… …much more intense and disruptive to daily functioning… …these episodes last for days, months, or sometimes even years”
Lets examine the evidence:
5 people come to view the Wendy House in one day, and my excitement levels and euphoria go through the roof. No-one asks to buy any of my craiglist or Expo classified listings and I start believing that I’ll never sell any of my junk unique and intersting accessories. A fabulous cat-sanctuary offers me a deal on keeping my kitties and I’m overwhelmed with gratitude, a UK approved shipping firm quotes me a price 8 times beyond my planned budget for handling the kitties journey and I’m sunk into despair for days as I realize I need to find more cash before I sell my home.
I need more tea than I can possibly drink during my waking hours.
Shipping (air or land) frieght to the UK requires that the owner have a valid passport at all points when the freight will be moved. Frieght moval times are unpredictable because of seasonal and weather variations and because frieght, especially home-frieght, is very low priority. Remember by ditsy person’s annual passport? It’s due for renewal this autumn… …while the Wendy House is in transit…. Apart from guffaws of laughter this is what dad had to say when I asked him if I could hand-carry some stuff over to his home and leave it there ready for when I arrive, just to be sure it would actually get there…
Mum says that will be OK… …Passports and Passport timings are highly critical factors in travel – at least it is not as bad as in war time when you had to bring your Ration books with you if you were going out of the country – these had to be checked and if you had used next weeks rations woe betide you! That still applied the first time I came to England after the war – I nearly was not allowed to leave!
I should have guessed that it was worse during WW2. I’m lucky that Britain and the US prefer peacekeeping to war or I’d probably have to live in a bunker at the bottom of the garden.
In October my facebook friends no longer described me as predominantly arrogant and mouthy, Hoorah!
They have found that my frequent unveiling of yellow wonky teeth is my main virtue. Needless to say, I don’t count any US Dentists amongst my friends.
Obviously I could survive on a desert island without panicking about the lack of a dental floss and could focus on the more fun stuff like some serious splashing in the sea, exploring, then bedtime with a drop of fermented coconut milk and lashings of ‘goodnight John-Boy’, ‘goodnight Mary-Ellen’ Waltonesque politeness.
The total omission of the category ‘worst speller’ is because the Facebook applet does not compare people on this dimension. Otherwise I’m sure creative speller would be up there amongst my top virtues. While I’m considering this I’ll have half a dozen a cups of tea because I surely can drink a lot of tea, as indeed my friends conscientiously observe.
Then in November my wonky teeth got knocked off the top slot by my outstanding manners with new entries replacing adventurous and best companion on a desert island with loyal and dateable. In the light of my repatriation this all makes good sense because while the UK is an island, it is not a desert, and returning to the UK can be viewed more as native loyalty than adventerousness. Dateable? Hmmmm…. this is questionable on the grounds that no-one has actually managed to achieve a ‘date’ in 2007.
Goodness knows where the manners came from, probably mumzie.
US advice: we don’t tax alien’s once they’ve left the US unless they have income from the US.
“after nearly 8 years you don’t have a green card. That is good news, how did you manage that?”
“capitol gains is the difference between the original cost of the house and the price that you sell at. You have to pay tax on anything over $250,000″ Luckily the real Wendy House has doubled in price without hitting this minimum gain for US capital gains tax. Hoorah! Beers all around and bottoms up to boot. Small is beautiful, small is untaxworthy so its still mine.
UK advice: have the biggest garage sale in Wendy House history
This advice was cunningly concealed in this code, ”As you have been outside the UK for 5 UK tax years, by concession you will be charged to Capital Gains Tax only in respect of chargeable gains from disposals made after arrival.” So I should sell my expensive stuff before I reach the UK. The Wendy house garage is not eligible for capital gains tax because “The sale of your main residence is tax exempt for capital gains purposes.” Phew!
Obviously, with the impending relocation, The Wendy House will have to change its strapline from “English girl playing house in Seattle” to something more pertinent and descriptive of my scribblings once I’ve repatriated to Reading (rhymes with Heading).
You can expect the content to be of the same ilk. Obviously I will instantly cease to have a cute accent or see too many Khaki cargo pants. Or will I? Expect posts on the wonderful cultural practices of the locals compared and contrasted with my passing knowledge of US folks.
Any strapline suggestions?
A person called Yusuf wants to buy my unnecessary stuff. Yusuf has also offered me a highly paid job and to print my craigslist advertisements. I just need to give him my banking details first. Gosh! I’m so lucky to be offered all these things, thanks Yusuf.
“Non-portable instruments such as pianos are not authorized for shipping.“
written in my relocation documentation. I’m not 100% convinced.
Illustrated list of some basic steps to follow when looking for somewhere to rent in Reading
1.) Use the internet and free classified listings to find property to let in and around Reading getting a feel for prices, collect letting agent phone numbers, call the offices, talk to the agents about your needs and arrange a time to visit them.
2.) wander down to a letting agent with an impressive, alphabetically arranged collection of family names. For example, “Vanderpump & Wellbelove & Wellesley – Smith & Co (Est. 1929)“. This is just one of the dozens of letting agents I’ve visited in Reading.
3.) watch while the pink-tied-male letting agents tap-tap-click-click on their computers, chew their pens, adjust their hairgel and generally bicker amongst themselves about
- what the property is called.
- how many sets of keys they have.
- how long it takes to get from one property to the next, and
- what is the best route.
Its actually a fabulously entertaining show. A show well worth taking a vacation to see. Which I did. Hooray!
4.) go to look at property. Ensure you have a convenient shop nearby. My US person training together with my general level of un-adult-hood left me giggling at the name of this corner-shop.
5.) check-out the local parking possibilities, one-way systems, speed bumps, then see if you can find a few nieghobrs to talk to.
6.) ensure there is an excellent pub within walking distance. To complete this step you have to go into the pub, order a pint, drink the pint and interview the bar staff while observing the other clientelle.
7.) take a look at the district details on: http://www.upmystreet.com/
Estate agent: Are you sure you’re from the US?
Wendy: lived there for the best part of the last 8 years
Estate Agent: you don’t sound American
Wendy: I’m not
Its my birthday.
It’s Eyan & Phil’s birthday.
It’s international Jennifer day
I’m 44 (and British)
The wikipedia entry for 44 points out that despite not being a prime number it is one of an elite 12% of numbers that can be described as a ‘Happy Number’.
44 trivia:
* I did phone someone up yesterday to tell them I was frustrated, so that is pretty torrid on the Wendy torridity scales. I used the word frustrated 4 times, then had a cup of tea to calm down. I feel a bit bad now about that impulsive outburst of saying I’m frustrated.
In Reading. My first evening. Jetlagged. With luggage & flat Eric. Listening to fireworks explode & people arguing in the street. While walking to a pub quiz a plump, bedraggled, lady approaches me and holds out her hand as if to grab my arm
“I know its rude, I know I shouldn’t, I’m really sorry, but do you have one-pound-ninety?”
“Sorry, I don’t have any cash” My voice sounds loud and assertive almost like I was chiding her. No empathy, no softness, no attempt to find out if I could help her in other ways. I felt bad. I wish I’d been organised enough to pick up some currency before I arrived…
On my way back from the pub quiz the streets are alive with whooping groups of young adults, a couple of which decided to use the Nationwide cashpoint (US = ATM) as a prop for simulating eXtreme naughtiness in public without the aid of hands. Astonishing. Reading fair buzzes on a Sunday night. The ladies are often not wearing much some even had their boobs and other bits out in the November night air. I guess the escapades of US female celebrities really have set the tone for a night on the town here.
Because my home is going to be visited by lots and lots and lots of people many of whom will be thinking about buying a house and some are nosey parkers and one may be a nefarious evil doer, I have hidden my passport.
Hiding passports is a risky thing if you need to travel soon and you are prone to losing them. I’ve sent myself an email telling me in coded language where I have hidden my passport. Gosh, do you think I’ll lose it again? The passport?
Luckily the stager didn’t use the infamous circles. I hardly recognize the place, I’m way too scruffy to live here, see!
Maureen Rammell, my realtor, arranged the staging and has been extremely reliable, focussed, and personable in all her dealings with me. Outstanding. Maureen really works for her percentage.
the stager wandered through the Wendy house asking questions like “can we move that into a cupboard where it can’t be seen” and “do you have any throws“, “pack all the books except those about movie stars, the dictionary, and books with classic or high quality covers, pack anything that might provoke speculation about who you are taking their focus off the house“.
I asked her “should I get rid of the plants” and “I expect the religious paintings and angels have to go” to which she replied “I’m glad YOU said that, you’re right”. ”Well religion leads to wars so its probably not good for selling homes“.
In the Wendy House boudoir he Stager chirped enthusiastically about my Kieth Bowen print. This print is in the boudoir because it made house guests squirm. Which apparantly is not a good thing. I love the charcole portrayal of a Swaledale ewe, wool ruffled in the harsh snowdonia winds, suckling her lamb. It’s all mumzie! But this mother-daughter sucky-moment in unpleasant weather isn’t a hit with the masses. We agreed that it should probably be covered-up.
In the garage the Stager encountered my infamous circles and whooped with joy… …they must have some hidden mistical powers… …cetainly they have not been known to offend…. …maybe if you watch them and relax they hypnotize you into wanting to buy the Wendy haose hease house.
Christmas day 1999
After christmas I found this note from my 6yr old niece tucked in the cover of a book I’d been reading. It now marks a poem drawing parallels between life and staying on a hospital ward where we do not make our beds but we do lie in them by Roger McGough in his book “The way things are”.
The note cleverly demonstrates that the word hasea hoase house, unlike home, is terribly tricky to spell. Probably because there are three of those infamously tricky vowels conglomerating in ‘house’.
