Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Things have been quiet on the blogging front recently. There is a reason for this; I have not had writer's block or lost interest. I've not been isolated from the world because of the black hole that is dial-up. I have been angry, and I'm not sure that it's good to write when angry as I think people have enough misery in their own lives without having to deal with mine too. Suffice to say, visa woes, separation from Mr Hayley just a month after our wedding and illness in the family have all contributed to a pretty shoddy 6 weeks since my last post. But enough of that! I have been in London, fabulous London, whilst waiting for the embassy to get it's act together - oh how I missed it!
Give me Waterloo Station at 5.30pm; weaving in and out of your fellow commuters while the tannoy blares. Give me Westminster Bridge and its views of Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, the London Eye, the gherkin and St Paul's. Give me wonky streets and wonkier teeth. Give me Oyster and the Tube, cheese and pickle, Fern and Phil, drum and bass! Coming back to all this from some time in the States gives me a new-found appreciation for all things Londinium. I've filled my days with working back at ODI and spent my evenings on opposite ends of the free-time spectrum, either frolicking with friends in various drinking haunts in and around the city, or staying at home and knitting. That's right, knitting. With wool. Previously not the hobby of anyone without a freedom pass, knitting has seen a revival of late and I have happily jumped on the bandwagon. Inspired by a friend at work who was talking about it, I thought 'well if 70 year olds can do it, why can't I?', I mean, how hard can it be?
Well, I would say on the scale of ease - with Rebecca Loos at one end and Stephen Hawking's Brief History of Time at the other - this is about level with playing Stephen Fry at Scrabble. Knit one, purl one, increase, decrease, yarn forward, cast off....who knew it was so complex?! The patterns look like binary code, I keep tangling the wool and have so far managed to knit maybe 11 stitches with no holes or knots. I tried getting expert advice from the lady in 'I Knit' on Lower Marsh, a veritable hub of all things woolly - there's even a knitting club where you go and drink booze, and talk about erm...knitting current affairs I guess, with like-minded individuals. She was fantastic, very knowledgable, and I was most impressed by the fact that she was donning the knitting-equivalent of a hip flask, that is a kind of wool-exuding utility belt, if you can imagine such a thing. She did her best, bless her, but I honestly don't know that I'll ever really understand it. Maybe it's like languages where if I did join a knitting club where you could drink alcohol, my skills would (or at least I would believe) improve. I would have the confidence to knit without fear, with gay abandon, even. Who knows what kind of woolly wonders I could produce?!
Alas, for now I am working on finishing a rather drafty scarf, which I intend to patch up with bijou buttons that I will claim to be part of the original design. I'm also persevering with the baby jumper I have started that was intended to be a gift but I fear would be an insult, and may actually be finished around the time I decide to have El Segundo with him indoors (that would be year six of my new ten-year plan, before you ask). Provided we have a baby with some kind of disproportionately large left arm and hunch back, who looks fab in lilac, we'll be good to go.
Which brings me full circle. The reason I am no longer angry and felt I should write something is that I finally got my visa today and will be flying home to Minneapolis tomorrow. Provided I don't get turned away by my friends at Homeland Security this should be the start of everything. It's a huge weight to be lifted, and though we still have a way to go in terms of getting my work permit, social security number etc, I will at least be a 'permanent resident with conditions' which is far better than 'alien spouse', I believe. Any amount of paperwork, form filling, fee paying and waiting is fine by me as long as I can be with Casey, everything else just seems quite immaterial. So, I am back and will update you in due course on the triumphs and trivialities of my banal existence just so long as I don't get angry again. In the words of The Incredible Hulk "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."