I’ll be Back

And hopefully soon.  There has been so much going on in my personal life that I haven’t had the heart or the inclination to write about.  Suffice it to say for the moment that any migraine headaches D gets in the future will NOT feature on this blog…

Four Women all Born in a Year Ending in the Number 7

This is a story about weddings – not marriages, but weddings.

The first involves my grandmother, Lily, who was born in 1917.  I don’t know how she met my grandfather or how long they knew each other before they got married, but I do know she was 18 when the wedding took place.  Her 19th birthday was in November of 1936, so I’m guessing she got married in June or July of 1936.  She and her sister, Florrie, married my grandfather, Bob, and his brother, Bert, on the same day at the same time at the local registry office.  I think it’s safe to assume that neither family was informed prior to it happening, although rumours were apparently in the wind.  Apparently, Bob and Bert’s mum, my great-grandmother Florence, was a bit of a battle-axe.  When she heard her sons were getting married, she charged on down to the registry office and saw Aunt Florrie sitting there, with her bouquet of flowers, wearing her nicest clothes.  Florence asked Florrie if she knew Bob and Bert, to which Florrie responded that she was ‘only there on spec’ (for those not in the know, she meant that she was hanging around, looking to see if there might be a guy worth marrying!)  Florence went away, the rest of the wedding party duly appeared and they were married.  Alix, if you’re reading this, just try to imagine the scene when they told their respective families what they had done!

Then there is my mother, Peggy, who was born in 1937.  She was 18 when she met my dad in a pub in Leicester.  He was 20.  They were married in July 1956, about six months after they first met, three months after her 19th birthday.  One could say they got married in a fever, as his enlistment was nearly up and he was due to leave England to go back to the US in August or September, so they had to hurry things along.  My grandmother was apparently not happy with the speed this was all happening.  On the morning of the wedding, my mom’s period started and she promptly informed her mother and told her words to the effect ‘Now do you believe me?  I’m not marrying him because I’m pregnant!’  My mother had started to take classes to become a Roman Catholic and she and my dad were married in a temporary Catholic church not too far from my grandparents’ house.  Their reception was held in the community room of a local library.  Later in the day, they caught the train to Paignton in Devon for two weeks of fun in the sun…my dad promptly got so terribly sunburnt that she said that…well…it’s a wonder she came away from the honeymoon pregnant.  She probably did, though, as they had very little private time together after that until she landed in the US.  Mom had a visa process to go through that they started as soon as they could, but which still took several months.  She arrived in the US in November of 1956, 4 months or so pregnant with me.

The third woman is me!  I was born in 1957.  There’s nothing so unusual about my first wedding.  I’d known him for a couple of years before we started dating, and we dated for a couple of years before we got married.  It was all fairly traditional, and just goes to show that knowing someone for a long time doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be together forever, just as the opposite isn’t always true about whirlwind romances.  But, our wedding was a lot of fun, the reception was at a local park, the whether was beautiful, it was all very laid back and relaxed.  I guess what’s interesting about me in this timeline is that I’m the only one of the four generations to have married a second time.  And visas were involved!  Since I was in England on a student visa and didn’t intend to study any more after the wedding (couldn’t afford it), I switched to a spousal visa. My second wedding took place at a registry office.  We had a wedding meal afterwards for the few people we’d invited to the ceremony, and then we held an evening reception in my in-laws back garden, which was also fun, except for the fact that both the groom and I were coming down with colds!

That brings us up to our current generation, my daughter Alix, who was born in 1987 (I know, I broke the mold a little by not having her when I was 20!).  Alix surprised everyone by getting married on September 23rd in front of a judge at the county courthouse.  In spite of it not being her dream wedding, she said the ceremony was good.  She and her husband had been engaged for four or five months previous to the wedding and had planned to actually get married in August or September of 2010 at the earliest – she wanted me and D to be there.  However, visas played a role in their rush to get married.  Neither of them wanted him to have to go back to his native Brazil when his visa expired, so this was the thing to do.  They will plan to have a ‘big’ wedding next year, and it will indeed be a celebration!  In the meantime, they’ve now got a visa process to get him through, and then they can make some more concrete plans for next year’s celebration, as well as their future in general.

It is now up to Alix to have a daughter in 2017!!! 

Seriously, though, Alix, I want you to realise that you come from a line of women who have had interesting weddings!  Since I’ve had two weddings, I throw the statistics off a bit, but just think – half the women got married in the US, but 3/4 of them have also gotten married in the UK!  More interestingly, three out of four generations of women in your family have had weddings where visas have been involved, and two of those generations have involved visas to be able to stay in the country.  And, two generations of women got married without letting their families know it was going to happen.  Who knew our family history could be so interesting?

Update on the Anglo-Saxon Hoard

I did it, I stood in the queue yesterday, and got in to see the gold!

Knowing that it would be a long wait, I went prepared.  I carried my bag with a book inside, a sandwich, a drink and a cookie!  I thought about bringing one of our portable camping chairs, but decided I didn’t want to drag it around with me.

When I got into the queue, I was standing quite a ways back from the sign that said ‘two hours from this point’, so I figured it owuld be at least 3 hours.  It was 1:00.

I was hungry, so I ate my sandwich.  Then I texted Jeff to tell him what I was doing, he texted back to tell me I was crazy.  That took care of the first 10 minutes!

But, every five minutes or so, the queue moved forward, someitmes just a few steps, sometimes 10 or 15 feet.  There was a troubador wandering around, playing music.  There were also several Anglo-Saxon warriors hanging around as well, talking to people and answering their questions.  A young woman came by selling cupcakes!  Someone from the museum came along with some photocopied handouts that gave some information about life in those days.

A little later, someone else came along with some glossy brochures showing some of the artfacts.  Minimum donation of £1, which would go towards trying to keep the hoard in the Midlands permanently.  I gladly made a donation.

As we inched (sometimes) our way along, I read my book, I listened to conversations going on around me, I ate my cookie, and, eventually, 2 hours later I rounded the corner in frond of the building.  As I got near the bottom of the stairs to go inside, it was easy to start counting people – they were letting them in 10 at a time.  I made it in at the end of a group of 10, but they were really only doing it that way because they didn’t want people queued on the stairs on the way up.  So, up the stairs and then at the top we were formed back into the ‘hoard’ queue, and I got the see the same people all over again in front of me.  Unfortunately, a few minutes later and I had that guy behind me whose voice I was getting sick of hearing…he seemed to know something about everything!

Finally, I was again at the head of a queue – groups of about 10 were being allowed into the room.  The last time I’d been in this particular room, it was holding an exhibit called ‘Obama’s People’.

Now, there were 6 or 7 large glass display cases set around the room.  We were pointed in the direction of the case where they wanted us to start, but after that, we would look at any case in any order and stay as long as the place was open, as far as I could tell!  I think I spent about 1/2 hour in the room, partially because there were a lot of people blocking my view, so I really took my time.

What can I say about what I saw?  First of all, it felt slightly historic to me…most of the items still had at least some dirt on them, they weren’t all cleaned and polished up yet for a museum audience!  Second of all, since I was by myself and didn’t have anyone to compare my impressions with, I was listening to what a lot of what other people had to say about the fine workmanship, the detail in the pieces, which reminded me of things to look for.

Of the 1500 items found, only about 60 artefacts are on display, and what some of them were used for is unknown at this time.  Basically, there were lots of narrow strips of gold – a couple of inches wide, 5 or 6 inches long, inlaid with garnets – beautiful and shiny in spite of the fact that they hadn’t been cleaned up yet.  There were lots of pieces of gold that apparently came from sword hilts, a gold cross that had been ‘folded over’ almost into a ball – lots of things that looked like they were ripped off of whatever they’d been decorating, as though someone was in a hurry to hide the valuables.  Looking at some of it, I felt a tingle of emotion, wondering what the people who’d want it buried had been going through.

Two of the items were so small that magnifying glasses were set up in the case – one was a piece of gold inlaid with garnets.  Magnifying it just gave a much better idea of the craftsmanship used in creating it.  The other was a snake.  I thought it just looked like a twisted piece of gold wire until I looked in the glass and could see the eyes and mouth – very good!

It was worth the wait.

The Anglo-Saxon Hoard

Or is that horde?

When I read in the newspaper nearly two weeks ago that this find was going to be on display at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery (BMAG), I knew I’d have to check it out.  I did, too, the first day it was on display, on my lunch break.  However, when I got there, people were queuing on the stairs outside (take a look at the BMAG link to get an idea of what the front of the building looks like).  Once you get up those stairs, there are quite a few more stairs to climb before even getting up to the first floor, so I figured I wasn’t going to have time in the half hour I had left on my lunch break – would have to come back in a couple of days.

Which I duly did…however, the queue extended down the stairs, along the front of the building and around the corner and down the side street!  There was no way I’d get in even if I used my WHOLE lunch hour!  So I gave it a few more days, hoping some of the furor over the find would’ve died down.

Wrong again!  I went up again on Monday.  This time, there was a sign standing at the bottom of the stairs saying that from that spot, it would be an hour’s wait and giving the extended opening hours for the Museum!  THIS is big stuff!  Needless to say, on Monday, the queue was just as long as on my previous visit.

I have no idea if other people are as cynical as I am, but I felt it was really important to see the gold NOW as it seems like once it goes to London to be valued, it will not be available to be viewed in Birmingham again.  However, it turns out that I may be wrong about that as the story nin my first link states that there is a possibility that ithe hoard will remain in the West Midlands.  IF I ever get into the Museum to see it I’ll be glad to make a donation to help make that happen.  To me, this is more important than the Olympics, but then, I always was into history…

Canal Walking – 4th Trek

This weekend’s walk saw me heading out on the Sunday rather than the Saturday, for one main reason – it was so windy on Saturday, seemed like a better idea to stay home and get some work done!

But, I started out quite early on Sunday, I was on the towpath at Brindleyplace by shortly after 10:00 (that’s early by Sunday standards when one can’t get a bus all that early, and it took me around half an hour to get to Broad Street).  This time, I was headed towards Wolverhampton!  It’s difficult to believe that I could walk from this view:

To this view:

in the space of about 10 minutes’ of walking.

The first photo shows a portion of the National Indoor Arena and The Malt House pub with one of those iron footbridges.  If I remember correctly from the little boat tour Julie and I took a few weeks back, bridges like this one are among the first in the world to have been mass-produced – the date on this one is 1827.

The second photo (also information gleaned from the tour) shows an empty foreground where factories used to be – some of the buildings in the background are still working factories, but most of what is there is derelict and waiting to be torn down – once the recession is over, the area will be built up again into homes and businesses.

Not far after this point, I came to this sign:

Note first of all that this bridge is not very well-kept – there are weeds growing on it and graffiti on it – it was almost as if, once I got out of the city centre, ‘gentrified’ area, things changed – weedy bridges and graveled, instead of bricked, pathways.  In any event, I remembered from the tour that going off to the right, taking the ‘loop’, I would be circling around past City Hospital and also near to Winson Green Prison where prisoners long ago were sometimes brought in by boat from the canal…so, of course, I took the Soho Loop.

Before long, I was back in a residential area, the derelict factories having fallen away.  There was even a small park and I could only assume that, even though the houses were set far back from the canal,  this area at one time was all factories as well.  There were plenty of joggers, cyclists and fishermen out again today, what with a return of sunny weather after Saturday’s high winds.  I thought the area I was walking along was quite pristine and free of litter, until I remembered the high winds and then came to one of those quiet spots along the canal that seemed to have attracted all the litter!

But, it was still a beautiful day with an obvious advance into autumn:

Not too long after passing this tree, I knew I was nearing the prison.  I could  see where the boats had gone into the prison – there was still a waterway there, but it disappeared under the high, brick wall!  I had to step to the edge of the canal path to be sure of that, wanting to get a look into the tunnel, but it wasn’t possible to see anything other than the fact that it wasn’t bricked up.  I gave myself a start when I got back onto the path and glanced across to the opposite side of the canal and saw this:

Not sure what it’s supposed to be or how it got there, but I kept an eye out for more statues…there were none. Shortly thereafter, I came to the Winson Green Bridge, so left the towpath to see where I could find a bus stop – I’d already checked and knew I could catch the No 11 bus from nearby.  I spotted a stop, but, since I’d actually only been walking for approximately 45 minutes, I decided to continue on as I knew I was near the end of the Soho Loop and would soon rejoin the mainline.  When I got back to the mainline of the Birmingham Canal, I knew I could take a right and continue on towards Wolverhampton or take a left to cover the towpath I’d missed by taking the ‘loop’.   I went left because I also knew the canal would go back under the Winson Green Road where I could once again get off and catch the bus.

Something over 20 minutes more of walking and I’d come pretty close to closing the gap of walking the bit I’d missed.  It was then time to head for home.

I’m more tempted, next time, to take the Fazeley part of the canal that takes off under the bridge in the first photo in this post – I think that might join the Grand Union Canal, but I’ll have to check my map – I also know there are locks somewhere within the city, but I haven’t found them yet.  All of this exporing may have to wait a while.  D has the next two weekends off, the first in nearly two months, so we’ll probably do something, and who knows what the weather will be like after that?  Still I intend to continue on…

I Made it Through the First Week

Overall, it was a good week, with highs and lows.  One of the highs was meeting Tracy for lunch one day, but that, of course, has nothing to do with work!

The big low is that I don’t actually have my own office space yet – I’m using space in a double office, which our regional manager uses when she’s in Birmingham and a part-time advisor uses on the days she works.  The advisor happened to call in sick this week, and the regional manager was only in a couple of days, but I can’t really ‘unpack’ and get organised until I have my own space, which may be about a month away – we’re waiting for a couple of people to go off on maternity leave.

Most of my week was spent doing practical things – like learning all those secret things about the database that people in admin don’t know!  I spent nearly every day observing during our drop-in sessions – this is when people who have never come to see us before come to get assessed for legal aid (we’re publicly-funded) and to find out whether we can help them or not – these people are screened by a couple of the supervisors.

Another portion of my time was spent observing initial interviews with new clients – those who have been screened by the supervisor.  I sat in three or four times with an advisor from ‘my’ team while she went over the funding forms, which must be signed before we can offer any advice.  One of the clients actually earned enough to have to pay, which he did, and was given the advice he needed right then and there – he was paying for an hour’s worth of advice and that’s what he got.  The others were being seen basically to sign forms and then another appointment was arranged.

It was decided on Friday that one of the people I sat in with would be my client!  Thankfully, my supervisor will be directing ‘easy’ cases my way to start with, and this client won’t need anything too tough to deal with.  Unfortunately, he can’t come back for a couple of weeks, so that blew him out of the water as being a first appointment for me next week!  Sounds like my supervisor will assign another client to me who has, so far, just come in to get signed up to funding.

I also spent some time during the week going through files my supervisor gave me to assess what work needs to be done.  Mostly letters to be written to update clients on what is happening with their case – stuff I could do last week with instruction from one of the people I worked for, sign the letter and send it off.  This week is different though – every piece of work I do must be approved by my supervisor, so we spent time together with me explaining to her what needed to be done in each file and her signing off the letters I’d written.

Amy also had her share of questions, but she seems to be doing fine.  Most of her questions involved a need for confirmation on her part that she was doing the right thing.  I have a feeling this will continue for another week or so and then taper off as she finds her own confidence in her ability to do the job.

Friday afternoon saw a bunch of us at a workshop on dealing with stress!  It was kind of boring – too much of the same information we’ve all heard before.  And, yet, there were a few good practical tips – especially one of the relaxation techniques that can be done sitting at your desk with no one even aware that’s what you’re doing!

All in all, a good week…

MRI? Check!

So that’s done.  Interesting experience.  I took the bus from the city centre to the hospital after work…

I was told to arrive at a certain reception area at the hospital 10 minutes before my 7:25 appointment with the mobile MRI.  I arrived at 7:10, and the receptionist was SO cheerful and happy to see me…just warming me up for the fact that they were running behind and it might be closer to 8:00 before they could see me.  So I hunkered down and prepared to wait…

Less than 10 minutes later, after having realised the receptionist was talking about ME on the phone, she told me that the hospital’s own MRI down in the basement would be able to take me as their last appointment for the evening hadn’t shown and was now late enough that they weren’t going to wait.

She escorted me down…I was thinking of dropping some bread crumbs due to all the twists and turns we were taking – I wasn’t sure I’d find my way out on my own!

A radiographer met me with some paperwork for me to fill out – basically answering questions about any metals or electronic devices I might have in my body.  None!  I took off all my metal objects, including my glasses and then I was taken into another room where another radiographer went over the paperwork with me to ensure that I’d answered all questions and I wasn’t wearing any metal.  The underwire in my bra and the zip on my trousers weren’t a problem.

She also described to me what was going to happen, since I’d never had an MRI before.  She said they would be able to ‘beam in’ on my ears and that the scan would take about 15 minutes, the machine was noisy and they’d give me ear plugs to block some of it out.  She mentioned that there would be two occasions where the noise would be quite loud, which is when it would actually be doing the scanning.  She also explained that people sometimes feel anxious and claustrophobic because there is a plastic piece that comes down over your face that does the scanning.  Again, she assured me that they would give me a call bell to push if I needed them to stop, and they would stop and come and get me right away.

I was then escorted in to the ‘machine’.  There was a window to the control room where two radiographers would be sitting.  I lay down on the ‘bed’ and my head fit into a rounded piece to help hold it steady.  I had my ear plugs in, and some soft padding was put in along the sides of my head so I wouldn’t move my head inadvertently.  I had my panic button, the thing was put over my face, but it had openings it in so I would see the mirror on the top that reflected the two of them in the control room.

Once they were both in there, the machine started and my body was slowly moved into it.  It really was quite noisy, but I focused on breathing slowly and deeply and keeping my eyes on the mirror.  Every so often, I just closed my eyes and tried to relax.  Then the real noise started, but I suspected it was the first of the two scans, so I just kept up the slow breathing, counting slowly to 100 and then starting over.  The noise stopped and I was moved further into the machine.  It was at this point that I started to really think…were my feet still there?  What if my noise started to itch?

I also started to remember reading the summary of a novel where someone ‘came to’ confined in a dark small space and how panicked I felt just reading it.  As the second noise started, I really had to pull my mind away from all that imagery and breath deeply and slowly and start the slow count to 100 again!

And then it was done and I was out of there!  Now to await the results…

Canal Walking – 3rd Trek

Saturday was another beautiful day.  It has been over three weeks since we’ve had any rain in the area and the temperature is probably slight above normal – definitely a good day to get out walking!

I knew Saturday would be my only day of walking since I just had other things to get done around the house on Sunday.  D was working again, for the fifth weekend in a row, so away I went.  I caught a No 2 bus down the road aways and then caught the No 11 to the Bristol Road, and back where I left off last weekend.  Once I got onto the towpath and saw the signposting and realised I was only 3 miles from the city centre, I knew that’s where I was headed!

Once again, I was sharing the towpath with a number of people, and I saw very few boats this time.  I saw one boat way ahead of me in the distance and, within half an hour, I’d overtaken it.  Not sure if it was having trouble, but I next saw it after I reached the city centre, found a toilet and bought a few groceries before catching the bus home – it was just tying up not too far from The Mailbox.

On this walk, it was again difficult to forget that I was actually in the city.  At one point, I could see the new University Hospital Birmingham off in the distance, although it wasn’t that far away.  For a short time, there were railroad tracks on both sides of the canal:

There were also some obvious signs of early autumn:

Note the blue skies/reflection of blue skies in these photos!  Some of us may have to refer back to them during the winter months. 

In a way, I was surprised when I knew I was approaching The Mailbox area.  The Mailbox, Gas Street Basin and Brindleyplace are so urban and gentrified, in my opinion, that it’s hard to believe the same canal runs through those areas as runs through the countryside and through some not very nice areas:

As mentioned, I went into The Mailbox and was amazed at the number of people in the area – many of them looking and acting like tourists…but, with such beautiful weather, whether they were locals or tourists, there was no doubt it was a very nice late afternoon to be sitting outside enjoying a drink or meal at one of the numerous restaurants.

It was time for me to head for home, so went along Gas Street Basin to Brindleyplace and then out to Broad Street to catch a bus home.  Will hope for nice weather again next weekend…

1981 – And the Relatives Visit Wisconsin Again

Of course, a lot happened in my life between 1975 and 1981, not the least of which was completing a two year business school course and then getting a job as a legal secretary at a law firm about 30 miles from my home town.  In 1977, Jeff married Liz, the woman he’d just started seeing at the time of my visit in 1975.  In 1980, my mom, dad and youngest brother Paul visited England for a couple of weeks and came back to report that Jeff, Liz, Grandma, Aunt Florrie and Great-Grandma were planning a return visit in 1981.

My Great-Grandmother died, though, during the planning stages, so that left just four of them coming.  Which worked out fine.  I’d left home, as had my brothers, Bob and Greg (who was in the Air Force at that time).  So there were empty bedrooms at my parents’ for visitors.

I heard more stories about this visit rather than taking part since my vacation time at the attorneys’ office was less than generous – something like five days a year, and I’d been there by that time for 4 years!  But, I spent all of the weekends with them – I believe they stayed for about a month.  Ala Jeff in 1975, I had just started seeing the man who turned out to be my future husband a month or two before the visit, so it didn’t feel appropriate at the time to introduce him to any of them…

Four people coming to visit – and two cars to the airport to pick them up (although I assume Jeff must’ve rented a car at some point in the visit).  I drove one of them, which was interesting for me, since, although I’d been to the airport in Minneapolis any number of times, this was the first time I drove there and back.

We did a lot of ‘repeat’ things on this visit – it was all new to Liz, of course, and I do remember accompanying ‘the gang’ to the House on the Rock and Villa Louis.  The Villa had the most changes as far as I was concerned – it was seven years since we’d visited, and in that time much more archeological work had been carried out (it still continues from what I understand) and an interpretive centre had been added.  This is where we started our visit, and where, if I hadn’t already, I certainly ‘took against’ Liz at that time.  We watched a film at the centre that briefly highlighted the history of the area and what was going on in the United States at the time the Villa was built, including happenings at the nearby Fort, which was run by a future president of the US.  What still sticks in my mind, though, is Liz, eight years older than me, sitting behind me, giggling through the film because ‘they think this is old??’  I really found it difficult to believe that someone as well-educated as she appeared to be could be so stupid and really show off her ignorance of other cultures.  Oh well.

On one of the first days of the visit, Liz proved to everyone that she wasn’t allergic to bee stings.  She and Jeff were taking a walk along the Mississippi River, working their way south of town and had probably walked a mile or so from my parents’ house when she stepped into a ground bee’s nest, which set the bees off, of course, and they stung her like crazy.  Jeff basically dragged her back along the river until they could get to the highway and literally flagged a car down and the driver brought them back to my parents’ house.  My mother called her neighbour, a nurse who happened to be off-duty, and, even as they were stripping Liz down, bees inside her clothes were still stinging her.  I believe she took an antihistamine for several days after that until the welts cleared up.

We also spent a weekend back in Minneapolis, since I could show them all around.  We stayed with my cousin Jean and her then-husband, Dick.  Other than the usual fabulous hospitality at Jean and Dick’s, what sticks in my mind about this visit is our trip to the top of the IDS Tower.  Although it was only  51 or 52 floors, Liz was afraid of heights of any kind, but she conquered her fear and went to the top with the rest of us – she didn’t enjoy the view though!

She and Jeff also took off on their own for a week or so, hence why I think Jeff must’ve rented a car.  They went to Chicago for a few days and then to Iowa for several days to visit friends there.  A good thing, too, as I think my mom was ready to tear her hair out.  There were a number of days when no out-of-town trips were planned and basically, Liz would send Jeff downstairs from their room to ask my mom what they could do, since they didn’t come to America to just sit around.  The other thing is that Liz seemed to talk down to Jeff all the time.  I can’t remember a single example, but it was almost like anything he said, she’d have a correction for it…it wasn’t always really obvious, but they seemed like put downs.  One weekend when they weren’t around, my mom and I brought the subject up with Grandma and Aunt Florrie.  According to them, she’d talked to Jeff like this since the first time they’d met Liz. They didn’t expect the marriage to last, though, because, as Aunt Florrie said, even a worm will turn eventually!

My American relatives did their usual thing with having a number of get-togethers which turned into all night parties a couple of times – I think Liz enjoyed that, but it must’ve been kind of tense for Jeff to try to please her all the time.

In spite of all that, I was sorry to see them go, but the promise went out to keep up the letter-writing.  At that time, I was writing regularly (and receiving letters from) Jeff, Grandma and Aunt Florrie, a practice that was to go on for a few more years.

A Busy Week of ‘Meetings’

Friday was my last day as a Casework Assistant.  It also ended a fairly busy, stress-filled, but mostly enjoyable week.

Monday was not good, as I felt really sick so stayed home and slept most of the day after being awake most of Sunday night with an upset stomach.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday saw me and Amy going over the last few things that I felt she needed to know.  She’s probably the most confused person right about now!

Those days also consisted of staff meetings and lunch meetings, so not all bad!  We also had a regional meeting where the big guns came in to tell us how the organisation is doing financially – the official word is ‘not very good’ and here come the cut-backs.  I think I might be starting at a good time, as some of the changes won’t feel ‘new’ to me, since I don’t know how things have been done before…but, I guess I’ll know more about that when I actually start training next week.

Thursday saw a lunch meeting with my current and now old team, plus Amy.  Sort of a ‘good-bye and good luck’ to me and a ‘hello and welcome’ to Amy.  That was really nice!  Although I like a couple of members of the team better than a couple of others (there were 7 of us on that team all together, so that’s not too bad) for the most part, I liked them all and liked working with them, so the ’speeches’ thanking me for all the help and support nearly had me crying!

Part of the lunch was spent explaining to the two higher appeals counsellors just what Amy and I have been up to with training and what they can expect from her for starters.  They also confirmed for her that they don’t expect her to know everything that I know, it’s going to take time, and the three of them will have further meetings to make sure they all understand how they’re going to do things.  That’s ok then!

When we headed back to the office, we split up – the three guys going straight back, me Amy and the other counsellor stopping at a shoe shop to look at some shoes (!), while the supervisor and another team member disappeared on their own.  Interestingly, when we three got back to the building and pushed the lift buttong, the doors opened immediately showing our two missing members, each with a huge bouquet of flowers in their arms.  So we five had a little ceremony of accepting flowers and hugging and kissing everyone and saying ‘thanks’.  Amazing what one can do while a lift goes up three floors!

The guys got their share of hugs and kisses when we got back too.  I shall most especially miss working closely with Steven.  When I started, it was just the two of us on the Tribunal Review team, and the team had just started for the first time in our office, so we really had to develop our own methods and procedures and we worked well together, as well as developing a friendship away from the office that always includes a lot of talk about the Green Bay Packers!

Friday saw me feeling very emotional about leaving this position – maybe it’s partially because the new position is such an unknown for me at the moment.  My desk is cleaned out, all my stuff put on top of a filing cabinet in my new, temporary office (which just happened to be Steven’s when I started), and the few admin staff that didn’t have the day off telling me they’re going to miss me.  Awww…then we laughed, because I’ll be literally a 30 second walk down the hall from them, but, of course, it won’t be quite the same.