21:18 - 02/26/2010
Reconnection
My phone rang early on my birthday - a few days after I last made a real post to you, dear diary. It was A+. We had planned to go out for lunch to celebrate my solar return. He asked if I wanted to postpone our date, given the state of the weather. We had almost a month of -20 to -30 C weather through the end of last year and beginning of this one, so it wasn't the temperature that was at issue. It was the wind that comes with the shift in cold fronts. I had succumbed to a flu bug, courtesy of my grandbabies' sleepover the week before, added into the "seeing auras" migraine that came with the winds. I had already been out in that wind doing some assignments a couple of days prior, so knew that waiting for it to die down would be a good choice. Deferred gratification is a habit, isn't it, once one gets into the adult stages of life, just as a matter of course. Spent the day cuddling with the cats instead, while chatting with my sons as they each called in to congratulate me on surviving another year.
My Dad called to arrange a lunch date the next day as well. Met him, his new partner and one of my sisters at a restaurant that features Italian cuisine. Very tasty and abundant fare for a reasonable price. Talk was of family issues, movies, and politics - oh yes, the country-wide protests about the prorogued parliament having been the main source of national news the prior weekend. I considered that a fabulous birthday gift, but I digress. My Dad had been enjoying the results of the genealogy work I'd done on-line and was asking about the rogue/black sheep family member I mentioned in my last real post. He asked if I had any idea where the letters from some of those family members were now. In some part they explain the reason for the family emigrating from Britain to the new world, you see. Essentially, the males were not fussed about being pressed into the navy in order to expand the empire for the Raj. Nuh uh. Subjugating massive areas of Asia and Africa in order to expand Britain's power as a trading nation was not their idea of a good time. I allowed that I recalled reading those missives briefly many years ago, but had no idea where they might have ended up being stored. We discussed visiting my one cousin who holds the documents that detail our Swedish roots, as a potential keeper of the other keys of the family history, in the spring. She lives in rural Alberta, you see, so travel is wiser when the roads are clearer and no sneaky blizzards are waiting to pounce on a traveller. Besides, my Dad is still not feeling all that well. He damaged some hip muscles while shovelling snow and keeps "forgetting" to not strain them. He has been visiting a chiropractor who has been helping him a lot, with support from a physiotherapist as well. That turned our talk to health care issues - that being his partner's occupation. Great visit all around.
Since that visit, I have done some more
Those reminisces gave me some fairly solid clues, so that when I found the government records pertaining to that settlement period, I could, at least, narrow the choices down to four ships. In April 1912 four vessels - Canada, Empress of Britain, Royal George and Mongolian - arrived within the time frame of my grandfather's tales, sailing from either Liverpool or Bristol and arriving in Halifax. The manifests are recorded and presented from microfilm on that government website. The reproductions are not all that clear. They also do not necessarily have written records of the names of minors - according to the notations about using the site. There are a few hundred pages to try to decipher, so it might take some time to complete that research. This was the grandfather who almost became one of the "Home Children" by default, when someone other than his father tried to claim him and his sister when they arrived by train at their meeting point in Toronto. What an adventure for a "I'm four, but I'm five" child to experience. Might explain my grandfather's resilience and taste for travel during his adolescence though. His father came back to Canada after serving in WW I an entirely different person. Prone to fits of irrational violence. My grandfather waited until his oldest sister was protected by her fiance's family, then fled to Winnipeg as a teenager. Trusting his luck as a musician cum laborer, rather than waiting for the violence to take him over too. My grandmother-to-be and he met when she played piano for the band. Hmmm. Romance.
On the weekend after my birthday, A+ and I met his best friend for a visit at the dim sum restaurant near A+'s home. We had a great visit. Talk got round to his friend's new health and fitness regime. He asked A+ if he would buddy up with him, so that he wouldn't be tempted to quit his exercise program. Swimming - because it is non-weight bearing - is part of that plan. A+ thought he might, although he was more interested in the weight training. I considered joining A+ in the swimming if he decides to go through with it. It's been a very long time since I have worn a bathing suit, but one of the values of being really broke is that weight loss is a given. The clothes that my Dad's partner gave me are already starting to become too big, even though the were snug when I tried them on a month or so ago. Yay! Every cloud has a silver lining. Still got to do some work on posture though. Several weeks of hiding from the bitter cold indoors means not enough time walking about the city.
Lots of walking the past few weeks have helped me keep my birthday resolution to get back into shape though. From having almost no work from early December to mid-January, the pace in the quality assurance industry has picked up substantially. Another agency - the fourth - has put me on their roster as well. No contracts from them yet, but I'll take any work I can get. I have actually got responses from some of the resumes I sent out for contracts/full-time work this past few weeks as well - real persons emailing me back instead of the automated "we'll call you if anything becomes available". No job offers yet, but at least there are signs of life.
One curious face-to-face interview too. First the call came based on a resume I had submitted to the employer over three years ago. Could I bring a current resume with me to an interview? No problem. I was a bit bemused, given that the job title was for something where I have successfully done the tasks listed, but don't have the formal courses usually required before one is even considered for those positions. Their call though. I was happy to give the interview a shot - nothing to lose. I had been told I would be interviewed by the one hr person. Instead, I was ushered into a conference room with the two heads of the project waiting at the table. Oi. I hadn't been told what the three month contract was for, but the details were fascinating. I wanted the position very much just based on that information. At the end of the interview the two project leaders asked me to send my references to the hr person for verification. That was a positive both because it meant that I had made it past the first cut, and also because it gave me the chance to reconnect with the four people who agreed to take on that responsibility as well. Sadly, a call came back this week from the hr person. The determining factor in choosing another candidate? "You don't have the certification the position requires". Since that was clear from my earlier resume, I have to wonder why I was invited to interview in the first place. Maybe there is some cosmic reason for it that won't be apparent for a while yet. Hope it comes into play before I run out of funds again.
My airport assignments were quite interesting for a number of reasons this past month. I had several, so I did them over two days. Scheduled for a few days before the opening ceremonies for the Winter Olympics, they were. The entire facility was jammed and humming with excitement as people from all over the world passed through the airport on their way to connecting flights to Vancouver. I noticed a few of the competing athletes travelling together wearing their team uniforms. They looked tense and a bit unnerved, but who could blame them?
What was curious was that the strictest security wasn't for the post-security lounges where passengers would wait for their Vancouver flights. It was the US customs that really threw me for a loop. The initial entry was it's usual process, but when I arrived at that first formal checkpoint, I noticed the head of their operation sitting and watching each traveller very closely as they trundled through with the carry-on-luggage now allowed again.
That was the end of normal though. An additional security checkpoint just for that extra luggage had been established and everyone had to go through it - except contractors and the flight crews. Waved on to the next area - again additional checkpoints not seen before, even a couple of weeks after the attempted Christmas bombing. Hmmm. It was obvious that the security people were all tense and they weren't taking any chances. It appeared that they had been told that if they had any doubts at all, they were to call for a supervisor to make the decision. You guessed it. I could pass by the head of their operations without a problem, but the unusual paperwork I had was reviewed carefully at each additional checkpoint, then supervisors were called to make the decision about my access to the departure lounges. No worries as far as I was concerned. Every staff member was still unfailingly polite and professional.
Finally reached the scanners and found even closer scrutiny there. No questions this time - take off your shoes, coat, and empty your pockets. Next up each pocket was searched as was my hand bag. Stress became evident when some of the equipemnt I am required to bring with me to measure certain attributes of the products I assess were discovered. Another supervisor called when I couldn't explain the exact way the machinery operated. I only am required to make the equipment work you see - software, not hardware. The supervisor knew what my purpose was and seemed to recognise me from previous visits, as had the head of the security detail. They must have extraordinary memories. Anyway, he just gave me a smile and waved me through that checkpoint.
Oh my, next up the personal search. Each passenger was given the option of either that new x-ray machine - the one that sees one's body in detail as though nekkid - or the pat down. I didn't see even one passenger choose the machine, nor did I, despite the cajoling of one of the other supervisors. I figured I had enough reasons to be depressed without having someone staring at my virtually unclothed body, thank you very much. The one screener was asking me for a lot of detail about my work as she pulled all the contents out of my purse, then returned it to it's original messy state. She commented on my choice of the patdown. I just noted that it was such a familiar part of my routine at the airport assignments, that I didn't even think about it. I was going to note that after having raised six little boys, all of whom were very cuddly, and assorted felines, as well as riding jam-packed transit vehicles that I really don't register being touched in an impersonal way. Decided that it wasn't a good idea to add any more detail than necessary to the process though. The woman who patted me down exclaimed about the layers of clothing I was wearing, but it was bitterly cold and windy that day. I had a long skirt on, so hiked it up so that she could more easily check my legs. She acted a bit surprised, but given all the women wandering about in very short, tight mini-skirts in the queue, I was still actually more covered than any of them. Guess it was just the change in my own image, eh? In total, there were more than double the checkpoints in that process than even in January. I was checked for powder on my hands during the January visit, but at least was spared that this time. Hmmm. I did ask why the extra steps and the tenseness. I was told by one screener that there was no difference to any other time I had been through their portals. Yuh huh.
I really resent anyone making people so frightened that they create, or submit to, so much extra security. In some ways that hands over to the terrorists a greater victory than any actual bombing could do. I never thought I would see that happen in two of the strongest democracies there are in the world - Canada and the US. Hurried back rather shaken to A+'s home. He has allowed me to file my work reports from his home since my internet got cut off. In this case I was really glad not to be on my own after the assessments. Needed some cuddling just to feel safe again, you see.
The weekend of the opening Olympics ceremonies, A+ and I went to the first of the two Chinese New Years galas in our city. This one in our quadrant of the city a week early, so that the main festival wouldn't be over-shadowed. Year of the White/Metal Tiger to be welcomed. Interesting that this year the New Year started on Valentines Day too. I am very fond of all felines, so several extra reasons to celebrate. Took lots of photos. Next weekend the same process only travelling downtown to the Chinese Cultural Centre for the big official gala. Lots more photos.
In between the two weekends more assignments all over the city for various clients. One pilot program undertaken by request of the one agency I work for, creating a little more activity than usual. Visiting A+'s home after each day's worth of assignments, so that I could file those electronic reports by the deadline set by the clients - no more than 12 to 24 hours are allowed to pass so that one's memories are fresh and accurate. A+ was monitoring my work email when I wasn't at his home, so that he could convey any follow-up requests from the agencies. Sometimes he would respond on my behalf, based on the details I provided, to answer the questions made for clarification. One doesn't get paid unless one responds within a very short period of time. Don't want to lose a payment on a technicality, but I felt really badly about taking up so much of A+'s time and resources all the same.
The upside was that we spent quite a bit more time together. He also monitored the messages coming in from my youngest son about the state of his wife and almost-born daughter. There had been quite a scare mid-January, when his wife went into labour and was in trouble. My youngest had emailed late that night to ask what was happening, since they didn't seem to have anyone else to ask. After hearing the description of the labour pains, I suggested, as calmly as I could, that going to the hospital as soon as possible was their best choice. Hated being so many thousands of miles away, I did. Anyway the problems were dealt with after a few days in hospital and a premature birth, with all it's possible permutations, was averted. Missy was born February 17 at 5:51 PM local Ohio time, after an induced labour. I wish I could cuddle her now. My son, his wife and my ready-made grand-daughter all seem very happy and the photos arriving regularly by email are comforting.
Next day I went to look after my one grand-daughter who was too sick to go to daycare. We spent time admiring her new cousin and watching Muppets on YouTube. I knew she was quite sick though when she asked to be put to bed without lunch even before noon. I drew a bath for her after her nap. That brought down the fever and we then spent a lot of time surfing her extensive wardrobe to locate just the right outfit to wear for Daddy's return home from work. The fairy princess dress won out. She is so cute.
Anyway, dear diary, I am getting rather tired myself, so the story of the weird internet problems will have to wait until next we meet. I will add the links I wanted to share with you to the post on Monday. Good night.
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