Today we finally moved our things into our new house. A long day of non-stop action. Night time now and sitting in my familiar chair in its totally unfamiliar place, listening to an old playlist (could be the Somewhere Over Siberia playlist) and downloading pictures from the past few days.
Early this morning I had to drive to Nanaimo to clear the shipment through customs and meet up with the movers. Clearance took such a short time I wanted to get a refund on my parking meter (which in downtown Nanaimo is 25 cents for 30 minutes. Really.). A few questions, lots of stamping with a rubber stamp (some things across countries never change) and we were on our way. I notice that the guys who work at customs seem to be from central casting, they all of are a similarity. Huge muscles filling out their navy short sleeved uniforms, beefy, crew-cut (do they call it that these days). Not at all intimidating to me, as they remind me of at least one of my sons, but could be scary to, for example, the Chinese family traveling to Vancouver for a family wedding I was in the backroom with when I entered the country as returning resident a month ago today, filling out paperwork for the following shipment. I say that I'm not intimidated, but still, any markings of officialdom with the power to make or break your day is enough to make an upright citizen of a person, or at least behave that way.
We're in, it's a mess, and I'm indeed very happy tonight.
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