Monday, September 17, 2007


On their way out of Canada, Andy and Joyce found a business with a payphone and a fax, so Sunday I received a phone call asking me to fax copies of Andy's birth certificate, passport, and our marriage license (to explain why he is traveling with my passport or to let them know if they didn't let him back in the US, there would be a very irate woman in Idaho they would have to deal with--not sure which). Faxing on a Sunday can be a challenge--my office is several miles away and while I know how to arm the security system, I do not know how to disarm it and didn't want to make a strange situation worse by having Andy get home and find his wife incarcerated for breaking & entering. Luckily, I am a woman who can work Google and found an e-fax program. It took several tries--including me having to locate Andy's NEW passport (which at least explains the "why-couldn't-you-tell-the-difference-from-the-covers" question, but doesn't help with the "why-wouldn't-you-check" one), Andy finally had all the documentation we could find and said he would either call from the next stop in the States or from a detention center in Canada, and they were off.

It turns out, customs may be sexist.

Example one: Toni, taller than most residents of Mexico and paler than most residents of anywhere, has to keep filling out form after form on their honeymoon because she is traveling with a birth certificate and driver's license instead of a passport.

Example two: Andy, scruffy & seriously filthy after 10 days in the Canadian wilderness, reenters the US without even having to explain why he has a woman's passport and is asked only for his driver's license.

Don't get me wrong--I'm delighted they let him back into the country & will be really glad when he's home, but some tiny part of me is a little chapped that I seem to be the more suspicious character in this marriage.....

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

I Married A Female Impersonator!

Andy & his friends set off for their Canadian canoing adventure on Labor Day. Why didn't I go with them? I love Andy with all my heart, but while I have faithfully promised to love, honor, and cherish him for the rest of our lives, no part of that involves 10 days away from indoor plumbing. We all have our limits.

The trip was going fine--they were seeing lots of the country, neither car had any problems, no big road construction--then Thursday Andy sent me the following text page:

"The passport I grabbed was yours! Fortunately, they let me into Canada anyway. Not sure if I will make it out again in ten days. Andy"

Canada must be a lot more relaxed than we are in the States, or perhaps gender-confused canoeists are high on their list of desirable immigrants. I text-messaged Andy back suggesting that he tell the border patrol that he went to Canada for a sex-change operation, and that the passport HAD been valid when he left. We'll see. So far my impression of the US Border Patrol is that they are singularly without a sense of humor.

I don't think I'm really a "worrier," but I am a double- and triple-checker. I would have checked to see if I had the right passport in, say, our own home. Maybe again on the outskirts of Boise. And probably one more time before getting to Minnesota. Definitely before Canada. Actually, I wouldn't have needed to check, because Andy's passport is a little creased, has stickers on it, and has obviously spent lots of time being carried around in back pockets. Mine is pristine. When I applied for a passport before our honeymoon to Cancun, mine was delayed until after our return because my first photo was rejected as being too "washed out." (One could actually argue that if I am THAT pale, there are only so many countries I could really belong to, which should lessen my need for a passport, but I digress....) By the time Kinko's took my picture a second time, assuring me that they had never before had a picture returned, and we resent my application, we had already traveled to & from Mexico with the aid of my birth certificate and driver's license. So, my passport is (was) without a crease, fold, sticker, or mark of any kind. I had rather assumed that I would be the one to use it on its christening adventure, but maybe my husband & passport will send me a postcard from Canada. Or several, as their stay may be indefinite!

Sunday, September 9, 2007

Stole? What stole?

Some knitting projects are a lot like dating. At first, it's exciting--the possibilities are endless. Everything is new and and it's all great. Then, you start to notice the little things--the pattern is a little repetitive, Mr. Maybe chews really loudly, the project's shape is a little odd, Mr. Maybe's shape is a little odd--then the doubts start. Is this really working for me? Do I want to see this person/project five years from now? Is this worth giving up closet space (notice how nicely that works for both)?

Then you notice the big things--the pattern is not just repetitive, it makes you want to remove your brain and beat it against the wall; Mr. Maybe is a boor who does everything really loudly, and condescendingly explains that to "patronize" means to talk down to, without seeing the obvious irony. Working on the project makes you want to stab someone with a knitting needle--being around Mr. Maybe makes you want to stab HIM with a knitting needle....

This is where Mystery Stole, currently referred to as the "beaded knitting abyss," and I are in our relationship right now. Most lace--in fact, most knitting, is repetitive. The problem is, I don't like the design. In knitting/dating, there has to be chemistry and I find the "wing" version about as attractive as Elmer Fudd on the dating front. Some people are just more open-minded than others--I never dated men with long hair, and I don't like asymmetrical projects. Not that there's anything wrong with either one, but they aren't for me.

Until I can be a bit more free-thinking, I have temporarily banished Beaded Knitting Abyss, and am making socks for Andy.

There are some relationships that are meant to last.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

"Baching it - Day Two"

I heard from the adventurers last night--they were in North Dakota. Not bad, for having left Monday. Andy & Joyce spent the first part of the journey exchanging stories. Then they read Jeeves & Wooster stories. Joyce is a lovely person who may be the only "Type A" Granola on the planet. She was arriving home from a 3-day camping trip less than 24 hours before they left. I realize this is not my thing, but if I were facing 10 days in the wilderness, I'd have been spending as much time around indoor plumbing as possible leading up to it....:)

The cats spent our first night alone squabbling over which one was going to sleep on my head. Last night Theo decided if Andy wasn't sleeping beside me, a mostly dead bird would be a good substitute. I'm not sure what that says about his opinion of Andy, but the cat & his gift were promptly locked out of the house. Since the bedroom windows were open, I was a bit worried that the neighbors might have heard my "I-have-just-rolled-over-onto-a-dead-bird"shriek, but I either live amongst heavy sleepers or they're not a very conscientious group....

Fall! Finally!

Even without extremely hot summers, I've always loved fall.  A little coolness in the air, leaves starting to turn, sweaters coming out-...