Not pleased

The sale of the house is almost certain to fall through. We obtained a professional opinion that the crack on the side of the house was "2-3mm, weathered and has obviously existed for many years ... of no structural signficance". We also had the electrical survey, which although it made clear the need for some work certified the house as safe. The buyers then came back with a demand for damp remediation work under the guarantee we have from previous work done in 1997. We have declined and pointed out that their survey was vague as to where the damp actually was and furthermore this is the self same survey that claimed the house might fall down because of the aforementioned superficial crack.

We were so happy but in the end these idiots turned out to be a curse. The house has been off the market for months and we have made severe and appalling cuts to our life to facilitate the move. Were it not for them we would still have Scamper and Arto and we would still be looking forward to a Christmas in our own home, our daughter's first Christmas. Now as it is we have spent money allaying the irrational fears of morons and have to contemplate another Christmas living out of suitcases with not even our own space in the form of a motorhome. And I don't have my favourite little dog in the world.

God I hate them.

Some Good News

Our new niece arrived this week - Olivia Marjorie Ida Love-Wilson, born 19th November 2009 16:59. Sarah, Rob and Jessica are truly blessed to have this new addition.

Jay and Harriet have been to see her and despite her being an extremely healthy 8.1lb at birth Jay was shocked at how tiny she is. So little time do they remain like that - blink and all of a sudden you have a 9 month old who is motoring about the place, not quite sure what to be up to next.

But in whatever shape, size or activity level our children are a joy and we are all thrilled that the family at large is getting bigger.

Fingers crossed

Although I haven't written much that's not because nothing has been happening. In fact, quite the contrary but not much of it good. The sale of the house is precarious at the moment because of the survey. It identified a crack on the side of the house where the small kitchen extension meets the main building. The survey said that it might be a crack in the render or a problem with the foundations. It also found the fuse box to be of an older type that does not meet modern standards and recommends an electrical survey.

The whole thing was poorly worded, inaccurate in places and self-contradictory. The English was of such a poor standard that if I quote from it I keep having to write [sic] to make it clear that the mistake has not been caused by Mango walking across my keyboard. It runs the risk of ruining everything - we have sold Arto, said goodbye to Scamper and for what?

So next week we are paying for a building engineer's report and an electrical survey to have an 'expert' rebuttal. Fingers crossed.

A Sad Goodbye

It is easy to accept that the animals in nature documentaries do things differently. Nature red in tooth and claw does not shock us but somehow we expect our domestic pets to be different. Anthropomorphism is rife in our dealings with them and we expect so many human characteristics that are just not there.

That may well be and we know that our feelings are self-centred but today our hearts are broken as Scamper has left us for a new home.

The truth is that we have too many dogs. Soon we will be moving into rented accommodation, having accepted an offer on the house; an extremely low offer but the only realistic chance of escaping. The next move will be to the US and realistically we can only have at most one dog and a placid, easy to care for dog at that (i.e. not a terrier).

On Wednesday we received an email from one of the people who bought a puppy from the last litter. Their family was growing too and they needed a companion for Chester (one of Pip's). It seemed like fate had intervened - we suggested Scamper and they immediately accepted. These are people we know and people who have looked after one of our pups for nearly two years.

Scamper we know is completely independent and can take on any challenge. In a way I'd love to think that she will pine for us or think about the past but it's total and utter nonsense. If she is loved, fed, fussed and can play with Chester from dawn till dusk her needs are met and she will happily transfer to running a new pack.

When they came to pick her up she ran straight towards them and jumped up their legs wagging her tail as if greeting long lost friends or former owners. As we chatted about the details of her vaccinations and forms and she realised it might take a while she sauntered off to the sofa and had a little stretch on her back by herself. Then the lead came out and she was straight over to them brimming with happiness.

I couldn't look as she left but I'm told she did look back, curious to know whether we were coming. But that would be it - she was in the box and off on her next adventure.

It has been five years of amazing adventures with Scamper. She has given us puppies, affection and driven us to the point of distraction more times than I can remember. The day we moved into Field View she buggered off into the impenetrable field of rape after a rabbit. I told Jay I wouldn't be coming back without her and two hours later I finally found her walking about the place as if she knew where she was or what she was doing. As I carried her back in my arms she saw another rabbit bolt and did everything she could break free after it again.

She will be happy and we can continue to get on with our lives and all the steps we need to take to expand our family. It is in fact a happy day but that will only become clearer later. For the moment our hearts are broken but our memory banks are full of the impact created by one little free spirit. Even if it is a one-way street, we love you Scamper and always will.

Some Good News At Last

We got word today from our lawyer that Harriet's application for British citizenship has been approved and we should have the documents allowing us to apply for a passport in a few days.

It's been such a long haul - we feel slightly stunned now we have finally made it.

Enough words for now - there's sparkling wine to drink!

Humbug

Miss Love-Mason has received a letter from the Home Office acknowledging receipt of form MN1 "Application for Registration of a Child under 18 as a British Citizen", the supporting documents and the fee of £460 (!). Alas the Chief Casework has been "away" so it is delayed. Our lawyer was "away" for almost all of August too so goodness knows when he will be back.

As for the house we have had something worse than before. We dropped the price to a level as low as we could go to drum up interest and to some extent that worked. The problem now is that we received an offer 10% below that level. Who knows, maybe they would have come anyway at the old price and we would by now have accepted an offer and have something to hope for? Or maybe they would never have come at all and we could have been spared this anguish. They are mulling our rejection over this weekend so we will have to wait and see. In the meantime our nightmare neighbours have been worse than usual. The leaves on the drive now make the screeching of their tyres louder and leave a permanent marker of their activity.

But as for Miss Love-Mason, she is continuing to eat extremely well. Breakfast in particular is a feast since she has a whole banana along with her porridge. It means that she is back to sleeping well at night and though she cannot be completely unaffected by our current despair we are doing everything we can to shield her. Weekends are so precious for me because it's only then that I get to see her at her most inventive and adorable. She has an awareness of the world that she shares openly with a child's transparency.

The next big step is probably for her to crawl. She is extremely mobile in the walker but still lacks that final tiny movement that will propel her by herself. It will come soon - so let's just hope that we can all be a bit more mobile and get the hell out of here.

Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair

Blake

The first tooth

Harriet's gastronomic journey this week came to a shuddering halt. Nothing was right and nothing was good enough; neither savoury food nor sweet; not even milk. On the worst night she woke every half an hour so the following day was just the perfect moment for our ******* of a neighbour to park his car as close to our house as he legally could and blare music out as loudly as he could. J was shattered, Harriet was inconsolable and I was in the deepest despair I have reached so far.

The worst moment came when J successfully fed her some pudding. After a little doze she became extremely irritable so we put her into her walker to cheer her up. She threw up everything J had spent so long coaxing into her and the prospect of another hellish night appeared. All the problems with the scrapheap neighbours were as nothing as compared to the misery of cleaning up that banana and apple dessert.

We had already formed the theory of course but on Friday the first positive sighting was confirmed: a little sliver of white along her gum announced the arrival of her first tooth.

Gradually things have been getting better. It has mostly been back to milk but on Friday night we managed half a jar of chocolate pudding and on Saturday night it was a whole jar of sweet breakfast porridge. The best news came this morning when she had the entire jar of beans and bacon. It has been necessary to develop some new distraction techniques and now we have to be extremely strict about making her lie down after every meal whether she approves or not. But it's a little bit of progress.

Every time she has cried to date there has been something we could do whether it was feed her, change her or play with her. But this is the first time we just have to let go a little bit as she does something all by herself. Our pride and anxiety are in a tense equality.

So quickly it has come to this.

The Wedding of Stephen and Gabrielle

Stephen and Gabrielle were extremely lucky to have picked a day in September with such glorious weather. That said, even if it were blowing a gale and raining a wedding held in Winchester cathedral would still have been magnificent and it was.

I have been sitting opposite Stephen for the past three years and though I don't deliberately eavesdrop it would have been hard not to follow all the detailed planning for the event. He is a real wine enthusiast and was very particular about the choices. I was slightly more surprised at his interest in the music and the key in which it should be played but on reflection it was time well spent.

We had arrived in plenty time and got a good seat in the choir section with space for the pram. A bottle of milk was at the ready in case Harriet got restless. There was one other baby which was a relief and plenty of children as well as the usual 'interesting' hats (unflatteringly referred to as the rear-end of a turkey by one fashion commentator sitting next to me).

Then suddenly the general chatter came to an end as the organ detonated like an Old Testament God. I had been struggling to take in the glory of the surroundings because there is only a small amount that one can focus on at any one time but the music filling the hall allowed me to transcend that. Gabrielle walked down the aisle to the Trumpet Tune from Te Deum accompanied by her father, her nine god-daughters as bridesmaids and her page boy.

It was a traditional service - well there was no wine for communion due to swine flu and no promise from the wife to obey but apart from that it was by the book. And if you are going to have people singing prose then the way to do it is simply to leave it to the Cathedral choir who will do it effortlessly and beautifully.

The Canon is Stephen and Gabrielle's neighbour in the Close and knows them well. They have been integral parts of the cathedral community for three years so he could speak not just as a churchman reading a script but as their friend.

Harriet had behaved extremely well. She had drunk her milk but only an ounce at a time since there was far too much going on that required her attention. She drifted off to sleep just before the last hymn but woke up coughing just after the benediction. It was so bad that Jay had to take her out and so sadly we completely missed the opportunity to take photographs as the bride and groom left.

Then we rolled up our sleeves and got on with the difficult task of testing the Champagne that Stephen had so carefully selected for us. I was quite diligent in making sure that the quality was consistently applied across several bottles. All the Credit Suisse people met up and we took lots of photographs in the sunshine, some of which were actually not too bad surprisingly.

We were seated at the 'Jane Austen' table and our name plates read "Dr Colin Mason" and "Jay Mason". You can imagine how well that went down.

I explained to our neighbours that I was not a real doctor and explained again when an agitated man came during the starter to ask if there was a doctor here. I called Jay who immediately went with the man to a commotion in the corner of the room. An elderly man had overheated and slumped unconscious. Jay got him into the recovery position and then managed to rouse him. It could have been very serious (especially since the rest of the table had just left him slumped in his chair until Jay arrived) but in the end his biggest problem was his embarrassment at having caused a scene. The paramedics did at least let him have the dignity of leaving under his own steam in a taxi in the end rather than blue lighting him out of the Close. The most shocking thing was the number of forms they had to fill out.

The speeches were excellent although it was poignant when Gabrielle's father announced that he was the only surviving parent and that the other three had all died within the last three years. I remember how terrible it was for Stephen losing his mother - he had just seen her in Australia the week before and then had to make that awful return journey.

The time came to return home. One of the couples we had met at our table was aghast at the the thought of us taking a train home and insisted on driving us back to London. In the end he insisted on driving us back to Harlow and in the comfort of that car it was hard to resist.

We got home all three of us crashed into bed. What a magnificent day.

Off to the Seaside

It was a frantic rush on Friday. We had a viewing at last, but it was scheduled for 11 so the house had to be cleaned and ready for that - but before then Scamper, Pip and Billy had to go to the kennels, I had to get to work and we needed to pack for our Bank Holiday jaunt to Brighton. With the best will in the world nothing gets done quickly these days so it was going to be a close run thing.

We were going to Brighton because Harriet still can't leave the country. I have had an extremely frustrating couple of weeks trying to contact the lawyer and get some answers. It will all come to a head soon when her visa runs out, something about which I am deeply concerned but seemingly powerless to do anything about.

Anyway, I set off from Harlow on the train and left Jay to get everything ready.

It was good to get away. Those of you who know us well will know just what a waking nightmare everything is at the moment. We had made a complaint to the police about the harassment we had been receiving from a neighbour. Although the response officer came out and said he would pass the case to the neighbourhood police team nothing happened. That was during the May Bank Holiday and although we telephoned again we heard nothing more despite some recent escalation in the trouble.

So it was a surprise when the neighbourhood police officer decided to call on Friday as well. It was the usual story of administrative incompetence to which we are becoming very familiar. The email was sent to someone who was off sick and she assumed that the rest of the group would deal with it but they were unaware since it was sent to a specific person. When we contacted the second time we were put in touch with the wrong 'neighbourhood' police team.

Whether it is our US lawyer, our UK lawyer, the Home Office, the Police Vehicle Inspection Unit or the Neighbourhood Police the result is the same. It is just endless delay, shoulder shrugging and obfuscation. We are offered every possible assistance short of actual help.

So, as I say, it was good to get away. Jay was late arriving at Canary Wharf due to dealing with the police but we were soon on our way to Brighton. We had decided to take the train and avoid Bank Holiday traffic nightmares and it proved to be a good decision. One hour after leaving London Bridge we arrived at Brighton station and headed down to the sea front.

The weather was fair but as we crossed one main road and stopped on a traffic island it changed suddenly and furiously. We huddled under the umbrella but it offered pathetic protection from the horizontal rain. Harriet was covered by her rain cover but she thought it was more fun to try to kick it off. So we were trapped in the middle of the road with traffic flying around us and we could barely even see the crossing signal turn green before we could flee to safety.

But that was it thank goodness. We arrived in the Holiday Inn Brighton looking like drowned rats and were told by the receptionist that we should have taken a taxi. Hindsight is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

The room cheered us up though since we had been upgraded to a sea-front executive room with a balcony. The English Channel is not quite the Pacific ocean but it was still an impressive body of water. Right in view was the melancholy but still striking sight of the rotting remains of Brighton's West Pier.

Our sole foray outside was to buy Harriet some milk and food but we were still expecting another vicious turn to the weather so we scurried back to the hotel and had an extremely nice meal in its restaurant.

However, the weather had changed and the next day we really caught the sun as we explored Brighton's beach and remaining pier. We visited the Brighton Sea-Life centre. There are no performing dolphins there these days thank goodness and we enjoyed wandering past the displays and admiring the turtles and sharks while turning away aghast at the giant spider crabs.

In the evening we headed out to Brighton's Gay village and managed to get a table at an extremely popular and smart restaurant.

Here I must confess that the previous night we had polished off a decent amount of wine on the balcony admiring the view and then during the meal. Our adventures during the day had required a beer or so for sustenance (along with a prudent tray of chips down by the beach). However, as we sat down and began to anticipate a top quality meal a sudden wave of queasiness overtook me.

I decided to go for a Bruschetta as a starter and although it came with sardines I reckoned I could just scrape the fillets off and enjoy the bread and tomatoes. That would settle my stomach and set me up for a main course of chicken.

The starter arrived and I was aghast. The sardines were not the anticipated slivers but two large fish sitting proud on the dish - tails, fins, scales and heads all intact. I made a valiant effort but there were so many bones and by the time my main course arrived I was really on the verge of collapse.

It was plain, simple chicken and I couldn't eat it. I really couldn't - I just wanted to be home so once Jay had eaten his delicious sea bass we paid up and left.

Reader I confess, that I made it to the end of a pretty little Brighton lane before empting my stomach onto the street. Oh the shame.

It was early to bed and the next day I felt much better. We visited the Royal Pavillion - the odd looking onion topped building so associated with Brighton. The Price Regent had built this to stun and impress and he surely succeeded because I cannot imagine anyone could walk into that place and not be amazed. There are two large rooms at either end - a banquet hall and music room - which cannot be easily described and pictures wouldn't help either. The monster chandelier in the banquet room is suspended from a giant silver dragon and is the most singular thing I think I have ever seen. The music room came with a sad story of how it had been damaged by arson and once the restorers had re-gilded all 35,000 shells in the ceiling the hurricane of 1987 dislodged a giant stone ball on the roof which crashed through the ceiling and the whole restoration had to start again.

We had a very nice extended lunch in Pizza Express and spent a low key evening in the hotel bar.

Sadly the next day we had to go home. Despite my troubles following the meal and getting soaked we had a really enjoyable time. There were no dogs to worry about and we could just concentrate on Harriet and each other. She loved all the new experiences, whether walking through the noisy amusement arcade on the pier or walking through the equally noisy chinoiserie of the Prince Regent.

We are not exactly thrilled to be home but it's a beautiful evening and a fittingly peaceful end to a wonderful holiday.

An expanding menu

The tin of baby milk prescribes five feeds a day - a total that Harriet has not managed since she was very small. That said, there is nothing about her that suggests that she is not eating well enough because she is now too big for the Moses basket and has moved into her cot.

The first night was a bit of a struggle because the transformation was almost too much. The cot is bright, has colourful pictures and animals for grabbing all around it. Our baby who previously slept so soundly woke us up at 4 as she played in this new wonderful gym. So she's back into her sleeping bag to restrict those flailing arms from trying to grab every teddy and toy in the cot and shove them all in her mouth.

She is becoming so active and co-ordinated. Her personality is strong and nowhere is it more evident than at meal times. The instructions on the tin of milk can say what they like but she knows precisely what she wants, when she wants it and how much. Nothing but nothing will coax her to eat anything once she has 'ad enuff.

That said, she is not too fussy an eater and is expanding her menu daily. This week she had her first meat (chicken with sweet potato). Previously she would passively accept the spoon and swallow but now she really gobbles it up.

Gran and Grandad were here last weekend and they bought her a walker. At the moment there is not much movement but it won't be long. All good stuff - but slightly concerning how quickly she is growing up.

A worthwhile trip

This year we have had to get used to waving goodbye to each other as we attempt epic journeys. At the beginning of the year it was of course the 6,000 mile journey from San Francisco to Heathrow and latterly it has been the equally time consuming drive to Cornwall. It felt just the same on Wednesday morning when I drove through Stevenage ("twinned with the planet of the roundabouts") and dropped off J and H at the railway station.

I had made the same journey myself a couple of weeks before so I knew full well the effort required. Fortunately Harriet is better set up these days because she is now eating solid food (well not solid exactly, but non-milk food). It must be an amazing experience, having been used only to milk, to suddenly meet your first banana custard. Her face was a picture but we got a surprisingly good amount of custard eaten and she has never looked back (actually she has vetoed cauliflower cheese but who can blame her?).

Their destination was Yorkshire and their mission was to pick up the new Land Rover. After all my previous optimistic blogs I'm not going to say too much but (*touching wood, rabbit's feet and horseshoes etc) it seems to be going well. The new truck is very similar to the old one but with a few improvements. One of the benefits of having had the previous landy was that I knew a bit more of what to check. Thanks to this I immediately identified the dodgy lock on the rear door and they replaced it. This time it came with a full tank of fuel so no repeat of the last unwelcome break in a layby. Compared to the truck we last bought (although we don't really know what that was) this one is a year older but has done 30k fewer miles and seems to run well.

Well, fingers crossed this blog has jinxed us.

Chilling

It's been another week of early starts for Harriet because we still do not have a second car. I have, however, chosen a new Land Rover that is almost identical to the previous one. We were supposed to pick it up this weekend but it is not yet finished so we must wait a little longer. Provided this one hangs around for a while it will be worth it.

So we had the weekend to ourselves and yesterday was a dog day. We drove to Ware and from there walked along the river to Hertford. It was great weather but people must be on holiday because the park, so often heaving with people, was more or less empty. That meant at least that we could let Scamp and Pip off the lead without fear of them running off with some poor family's picnic.

The evening was dedicated to movies. Alas we started with the best of the night - Kung Fu Panda - and although the rest were good, nothing quite managed the charm and fast paced wit of that cartoon. A true classic - one for the adults as much as the kids.

Today we decided to have a day with more people and less dogs so we went to Greenwich. As we walked on the Thames Path I remembered that Sarah lived nearby and sent her a text suggesting we meet up. We had a walk around the park and then a drink in a nearby pub (another one Harriet can tick off her list as she visits nearly every pub in this country).

It's been a relaxing and welcome weekend.

Smiling through it all

The first unfurnished place we had was our flat in Loughton. It was little more than a shell with a terrible carpet and so our first trip was inevitably to the Ikea at Lakeside in Essex. Having had motorhomes for so long it's difficult to remember a time when our sole means of transport was a Nissan Micra but that is all we had.

We bought so much stuff that even flat packed it could barely fit into our little workhorse. It was so full I was contemplating travelling home by train and that would have been the safest thing to do but somehow I squeezed in. If we had to brake suddenly I would have been smashed between a coffee table and a chest of drawers in the best case scenario.

And so it began. Our house has always been furnished in a masculine style with lots of dark wood against magnolia. Yes there was odd lapse, including an outrageously uncomfortable bright blue sofa bed which we inflicted on so many people, little realising that we might as well just have smashed up some wine bottles and asked them to sleep on that.

We wanted to soften the place to make it look like more of a home for us and the dogs but also our little girl. But in fact we needn't have worried as she has gradually taken over the place with swings, gyms, bean bags and assorted stuffed rabbits.

I'm thinking about it because Jay and she are away on holiday with Pip, Sarah and Jess in Cornwall. I'm here with only Scamper, Billy, Mango and the tortoises for company. There's no real alternative because I have so little holiday left and that which I do I want to keep for Christmas.

It's been less than a week but that's a long time. Last I saw her she was perfecting the art of rolling over and soon, so very soon, she will be on the move. She'll be starting solids and then before I know it she will be going on holiday by herself to Ibiza or somewhere else of which I disapprove, perhaps just to annoy me.

The hardest thing for me at the moment is when I go up the stairs I see a pink dress and white cardigan hanging up. It's new, too big in fact and she's never worn it. It's no substitute for her wide beaming smile but it makes me smile and that will sustain me for now.

Out and About

The dot matrix signs on the A406 were coy 'Central London Road Closures, Event, Sat 4th July'. So little wonder perhaps that when we were walking through Leicester Square panic suddenly spread among a group of topless young men for whom the penny had finally dropped. 'Put your t-shirts on lads' was the cry of the scout who had been sent on ahead to ascertain why there was a music stage in the centre of the square.

How tragic - they had probably looked forward for months to a stag weekend and found themselves in the middle of London Gay Pride. "Do they think we're benders?" muttered the tanned, toned, topless man whose designer jeans and underwear had fallen out and were trying to get as far away from each other as possible.

Pride always provokes some strong reactions and many people complain that while they have no problem with homosexuals they do not approve of having their noses rubbed in it by a float of drag queens, go-go dancers and overt kissing. I have no truck with this sort of attitude. Were it not for the overt defiance of some of the most marginalised people in the Stonewall riots (which Pride commemorates) there would be no equality in law for many people. Sectarian marches like Orange Order parades or BNP meetings are more of a problem for me.

It has been an extremely good week of weather and we decided that we would go to Pride on Saturday with Harriet. The politics of Pride aside it was wonderful to walk around the closed roads of Soho and enjoy a pint in the middle of the road. Soon after we arrived a man approached us and asked us about Harriet - he told us he was here on business from the US and he too had a child. He beamed as he opened his wallet and showed us a post-it note written in a child's handwriting that said 'I love you papi'. He smiled at Harriet and bounced back off down the street.

It was a nice start. I admit that I was concerned about the reaction. We haven't experienced direct hostility but the vast majority of people who have been, let's say, less than fully supportive have been gay.

We met one of our Facebook friends for the first time in Trafalgar square. He has just had a child and it was an amazing contrast between that tiny little newborn and Harriet. How quickly they grow up.

The Mayor of London was not present this year because he had his son's birthday party. That was a shame but the office of Mayor had done an extremely good job and the large signs that read Gay-Mayor of London-Lesbian and Bisexual-Mayor of London-Trans were extremely eye-catching. We met another couple who also asked about Harriet. Jay was wearing his "Who's the Daddy?" T-shirt so that probably helped. One said that he had been married and never gave children a second thought but now he had come out it was on his mind. They asked lots of questions about how we did it and how much it cost.

The political speeches were not well received. Harriet Harman was booed and the Conservative Jeremy Hunt received a very hostile reaction and people threw (plastic) bottles. Despite this the Tories are probably quietly confident that they are making progress since this week's survey for Jake (a gay professional group) showed that support for them reflected the general opinion polls and was good. David Cameron has apologised for the monstrosity that was section 28 (the ban on local authorities 'promoting' 'pretended' family relationships) and while that won't placate a Pride crowd filled with socialist workers, trades unionists and Stonewall it will probably work for most people. The Labour government has been the most supportive and successful in equality and I felt sorry for Harriet Harman.

Anyway, it was back off to Soho for a meal and a drink. Everyone looked at Harriet and actually I was surprised at how few other children were there. We had one hostile comment from someone who felt that we were showing off and that we had it all. I can well understand the frustrations of people who want something so badly and can't find a way to make it happen. Apart from that we met some lovely people and we had a great time. Luckily there were plenty of people who just asked direct questions and you could see the relief wash over others who had been too timid.

It was a lovely day out. Thank goodness for those riots that made it possible.

A moan

Well, what can I say?

It turns out that the Land Rover we bought is stolen despite our having all the documents, the HPI check and both sets of original keys. The garage paid for a hire car while it was being investigated by the police but now we must get our money back and find a new one. My car desperately needs to go in for a service but since it's our only mode of transport it can't and it's extremely difficult at the moment. Harriet is dragged out of bed and put in the car seat (aka the 'grumble chair') and my commute is at least an hour longer each day.

On the more positive side Arto passed the MOT so Jay, Harriet, Sarah and Jess can still go on their holiday next week. I have had important meetings with the regulator this week so on a couple of days I did take the car and Arto had to be on standby as our second vehicle for emergencies.

I'm pretty fed up at the moment. I am making no progress with the lawyers who have not only done nothing but have also lost a substantial amount of money we had sent to them. We haven't managed to get the documents from the US we need and Harriet's visa is running out.

Anyway, I'll isolate this moan into one post and tell you about all the wonderful things that have been happening separately.

Another Land Rover story - really

We swore we would never buy another Land Rover because the Disco had been so unreliable.

So we replaced a 2003 Disco with another Land Rover.

But it's ok, this one is seven years older (eligible for the scrappage scheme unlike the Disco) and has done about 70,000 more miles.

Insane you would think - but this is not a Chav-mobile Disco, it's a Defender, aka "a proper Land Rover".

So we drove 300 miles, picked up the new vehicle and drove it 10 miles to the garage and filled it with diesel. We then drove another 5 miles before I had to flash J over because the Land Rover was leaking diesel everywhere.

Insane you would think; serves us right you would think - we should have bought the Vauxhall Zafira or Kia Carens.

Well we are sanguine about it all. The garage had given us real confidence in their work and they took us through everything that they had replaced. All the consumables (filters and the like) had been replaced and the timing belt was also replaced. They had replaced the rear discs and pads and some rear section of the chassis whose name escapes me. They were at pains to point the quality of the welding.

That's not much comfort when you are stuck in a lay-by half an hour after picking up the new truck with diesel spilling everywhere and Harriet screaming her head off. The garage staff came and tried to fix it by the side of the road but the conclusion was that it required a new fuel tank. They were extremely apologetic and explained the problem - it apparently only shows up when the tank is full and they said is extremely rare.

Anyway we drove off home and they took the truck back. It will have a completely new fuel tank and they will deliver it to us at home on Tuesday.

For the brief moments we had it, it was everything we wanted. There are indeed six seatbelts in the back so it technically is a 12 seater and can comfortably cope with all the prams and labradors we are likely to throw at it. Scamp and Pip love sitting on the rear bench seats and Harriet can sit with us in the front seat since there are no air-bags.

A bit of a disappointment but still we are looking forward to its arrival and in a strange way more confident than ever that it will be a reliable and well supported vehicle.

Defying the Clounds

J and H had gone down to Blandford on Friday and so I had an evening of pure World of Warcraft heaven. The next day I would make my way down there by public transport.

On Friday evening I realised that tomorrow was Saturday and therefore the bus ran to a different timetable. I had agreed to meet Sarah and Kathryn at 10 in Waterloo but the first bus did not leave until 8.30 so it would be a tall order. Then in the morning it struck me that while I had ensured I had enough money for the bus home on Friday I had made no such provision for today’s trip so I had a mad rush through all the places in the house that coins accumulate.

Scraping together the 2 pounds in 20p and 10p coins I set off and amazingly at 9.55am I arrived in Waterloo, met Sarah and Kathryn and hopped on the train to Poole.

We had had a sneak preview of Karen and Chris’ place the weekend but now we could spend some time properly. We took a walk in the grounds of the adjacent public school before taking a well earned pint. Then it was time to challenge each other to Wii and although some of us weren’t as good as we had trailed ourselves to be it was great fun.

Last weekend the weather was perfect for a BBQ and this weekend it was much less so. But we were determined and set off despite the foreboding clouds. The picnic tables we had planned to use were occupied by the local yoof knocking back their White Lightning and Cooking Brandy so we went off looking for a quieter spot. But then we saw the yoofs head off in search of a bus shelter so we returned and got the meal going.

After we had had our fill of boar burgers we headed home just as the rain started but before the thunderstorms.

Sunday began with a fried breakfast and in view of the weather the walk was abandoned so we read newspapers, played the Wii and then headed to the pub. A mad dash to Poole railway station and we were on our way home after a very enjoyable weekend. The M25 was just awful but safe and sound we arrived at last, just in time for the Apprentice.

No more buses needed for a while I hope.

What number was that bus?

The Bank Holiday was hot but our problems with the Land Rover meant that we were not able to enjoy it properly. It was a difficult week because we now have only one car so Jay must drive me to the station in the morning and pick me up in the evening. My car was due for an MOT so I booked it into a garage near to Canary Wharf and paid up-front - all rather inconvenient now Jay had to drive in for the test. Still, at least the cancelled Water Babies session had been rearranged and this time Harriet got to go under the water.

However, our spirits were rising towards the weekend. It was to be yet more good weather and Jay's sister Cathy and her two boys were coming to stay for the weekend. It would be my first time meeting them and their first time meeting Harriet.

Due to the lack of car I was planning to catch the bus home. However, I was too busy reading the paper to notice the bus properly and it only dawned on me that I had missed it when I looked at the number on the rear as it pulled away. Sheepishly I called home so I met Cathy for the first time as she turned in Stansted Abbots High Street, mounting the pavement as she went (she had lived in London and still drove like a Londoner she told me later, somewhat unnecessarily).

We had a perfect weekend. I joined the party late but it was in full swing and as temperatures rose we just became more relaxed and everyone, animal and human, was at ease. In addition to Cathy and the boys there was Chewie, the first dog I have ever known to make Billy look small. This horse crossed with Husky was a force of nature but very agreeable so once Scamper had informed him of the house rules (i.e. what she says goes) there was no trouble.

On Saturday we were treated to lunch at the Bull and in the evening I pulled out all my culinary skills and provided sausage and chips to keep us going through the drama of Britain's Got Talent.

I can't wait till they next come down, not least because I will have practised on the Playstation 3 and be able to give a better account of myself.

Next weekend we keep up the pace with our second visit to Blandford, this time to see Karen and Chris along with Sarah. We will be without the dogs as they are going to their favourite Essex Holiday Camp and it marks our last weekend without the new (older) Land Rover! The following week Jay will no doubt be driving around the congestion zone in his new 'bus' and I thankfully will not be lingering in bus shelters studying every word of the Metro.

An eventful week

Never, ever write something stupid like a blog with the title "An uneventful week" because that will be the end of your peace.

We had a perfect Bank Holiday weekend with a walk on Saturday to Hertford from Ware along the river and back only to be greeted with a Land Rover missing its coolant. This was the last straw since this car has been nothing but a liability and we resigned ourselves to finding a replacement. Every penny we spend on pointless things like this means that we have less money for expanding our family so whatever we get has to be cheap and reliable.

We tried a couple of large car supermarkets in North London because they would have a wide range but there was nothing inspiring. The best we could come up with was a Kia, which was on a very new plate (an '08) but still at the top of our price range. The next day we went to London in the baking heat to see an older one but discovered that the garage had to order it in from its storage site, which was closed so completely pointless. We were all extremely frustrated and irritable now.

I checked every website for every model of car desperately hoping that something would stand out. Of course on a whim I looked at Land Rovers too to see what we could reasonably expect for selling ours and looking enviously at what the same amount of money would buy if we had chosen a sensible Land Rover Defender instead of the chav-mobile Discovery.

At the bottom of the page were the cheaper vehicles and I jokingly suggested we look at one which was dirt cheap although it had done 200,000 miles. That garage was closed but we carried on looking and the idea of getting a Defender started to gain momentum. I found it difficult to accept the idea of buying such high mileage vehicles but clearly that was the norm and after all the joy of these Land Rovers is that you can fix them easily enough and if the engine needs replacing, well replace the engine.

I found one company who had several interesting looking vehicles and a helpful webpage that explained to novices like me what was important when looking at these. I gather that the chassis was the be all and end-all. More or less everything else could be mended or replaced cheaply enough and a Defender could give many hundreds of thousands of miles on a reliable frame.

The garage was in Somerset but the idea had reached fever pitch now. Unlike a Kia, Vauxhall, Ford or whatever the Defender looks great. The long wheel-base version has more than enough room for us plus any any guests we might have. The basic nature of the interior means that we would not worry about transporting anything or anyone, unlike the chav-mobile Disco.

So after 150 miles and 3 hours of driving we arrived at the garage to check them out. This was unlike any other car purchase I have ever made. There were five vehicles in our price range - one of which was essentially in bits and being put back together again, one had just had its interior done but was awaiting a new roof and the other three were more or less complete. To view one of them we had to literally walk over the other one since they were so tightly packed in the workshop.

The owner took lots of time with us to explain the different aspects of each truck (that is the correct term, this is not a car I discovered). He warned us not to worry about trivial little details like the interior or the colour or the choice of engine since all of this could be sorted out later (the one that was in bits currently had a V8 but they would change it to a diesel as desired). All the consumables in the engine including the timing belt would be replaced and the first service is free. He showed off some of their projects and their passion for getting the details right and they clearly had a lot of business from some very demanding customers. When we chose the truck he walked round it with us and started marking things that would be changed In fact we felt like we hadn't really seen our truck at all but just given our specifications and they would do the rest.

Buying something that has done 130,000 miles was not really on my agenda at the beginning but I feel confident that this truck will do at least that again whereas I doubt the discovery has got 130 miles left in her.

The day was even better because our 150 mile trip had taken us within 35 miles of Karen and Chris in Blandford so we met them in the pub (a short stagger from their front door). They showed us their absolutely stunning new place and provided us with a welcome and much needed meal. We'll be back down next week but it was a real boon to show Harriet off sooner than that.

The week had turned thank goodness.

An uneventful week

It has been an uneventful but tiring week. It was the first without the dummy so we have had to provide much more entertainment and endure not a few tears but at least now when she smiles we can see her do it and we can hear her cooing.

The main event was supposed to be her first trip to Water Babies but unfortunately they had a problem with the boiler and the class was cancelled at the last moment (everyone was already changed and waiting by the poolside). The boiler had superheated the pool and it was just too hot for the babies.

This weekend will be quiet. Gill and Chris were originally stopping off en-route to Europe but they have postponed their trip. More than likely it will involve a trip to the pub for the lunch and Eurovision in the evening.

No drama this week then and that is just fine with us.

Springtime for the Love-Masons

It seems too decadent to have a bank holiday when Easter has just so soon passed. Then there is another in May before the long slog through to August. That is the cruellest one as one contemplates the end of summer and the fact that there are no more holidays until Christmas. These facts are more important to me than ever because I have almost no other holiday left for the rest of the year (the little I do have I need to keep to ensure I don't have to return to work between Christmas and New Year).

That grumble aside it is difficult not to be optimistic and hopeful in the spring. The good weather and light mornings makes walking the dogs at 5am something of a pleasure. In the evening Jay and Harriet typically join us and there's no doubt that if you can put the blight that is our next door neighbour's house out of sight this is one of the most beautiful and peaceful corners of England. Even the dogs seem to be in better cheer and have not murdered any rabbits recently (Mango is another story of course but let's not give the elderly serial killer too hard a time since she is clearly enjoying herself).

Our diary is pretty full. This weekend my parents, sister, brother-in-law, niece and her friend have been in London to see a show (my brother-in-law has kicked off the series of significant birthdays that will take place this year and next). We met them in our new local, The Green Man on Berwick Street (just off Oxford Street) and then I decided to take a chance on visiting Little Venice. Thanks to reading the Metro I knew there was some special event on and indeed despite my misgivings it all turned out very well and we had a good walk along the canal and lunch in a nice little pub.

Next week Aunty Betty is down to see Harriet since she was away when we visited Scotland. Then Gill and Chris are stopping off en-route to Europe. We're away in Arto for the next precious Bank Holiday then it's off to Karen and Chris' new place. Then it's our anniversary. Then it's... well you get the picture.

Time flies and our little girl is developing and growing each day. Jay needs to manage the complex wardrobe rotation as she becomes too big for some things and not quite big enough for others. She is becoming increasingly aware of her hands and feet and her control of them. We are hopeful that soon she will start sucking her thumb in preference to the dummy. She's had her injections and will be going back for some more in four weeks. A month after that she will start trying her first solid based food. Terrifying.

In the glorious spring sunshine, amidst the beauty of the resurgent trees and plants, the contented sunbathing dogs and warm buzz of family and friends it is her piercing gaze and dazzling smile that tells us just how blessed we truly are.

The Grand Tour - Part Two

We dropped the dogs off at the kennels on Tuesday morning. It's a relatively remote farm and is reached crossing a very steep hump bridge and I swear that Scamper knew where she was when we went over it. Since it was the day after the bank holiday it was packed with people waiting to collect their little darlings and it was like being a Heathrow again seeing the happy families reunited.

The last time we had to use kennels these were unavailable. They are small and very expensive but it is obvious just how much better they are than anything else we have seen. It was Billy's first time ever in kennels and I think he was a bit cowed by all the activity (the farm has plenty of large horses which were being moved into horse boxes as we arrived). He behaved beautifully and meekly and I heard one of the staff congratulate him as she led him off (little did she realise what a handful he would become once he had found his confidence and having just watched one of them being dragged across the yard by a small black lab bitch eager to be reunited I knew they didn't stand a chance).

Once I had said goodbye (waving to their backs as they waddled off all thoughts of me gone from their heads) I returned home and we set off for Scotland. It's a six hour drive and the days of just keeping going are over because we need to stop and feed Her Majesty so now it takes seven hours at least. But we made it in time for dinner and Harriet was as good as gold. As soon as word had got around that we arrived my sister Anne, Lynsay (my neice) and Ona (Lynsay's other Gran, Iain's mum) arrived. Also looking in was Karen who stays next door with John. Karen looked after Scamper and Pip a lot when they were with my parents (and loved Pip, not quite so keen on Scamper for some unfathomable reason...)

My uncle Stuart and his partner Rose were desperate to come and they arrived at 9.30pm after attending an auction. They brought Harriet tartan slippers, a teddy and a crystal dummy. Then they had to go off to their shop to unload the stuff but luckily we could could then go to bed.

The next day was the big day of visiting. My mother had arranged for everything to take place in her house which saved us an enormous amount of travelling and effort. The roll call was:

9am - George and Alison (my brother and sister-in law, who were working from 11am so had to get in early)
10am - Isobel and Wullie (my aunt and uncle)
12pm - Anne Nicholson, Julie-Anne, Betty L, Dee (the 'hospital girls', my mother's friends) and Dean, Dee's son
3pm - Mona, Julia and Margaret (my mother's cousins and their friend)
5pm - Maria, Elaine and Carys (Maria is Anne's twin and wife of Kenny my driving instructor..., Rachel is her daughter and Cary is her two year old daughter)
5.30pm Agnes (next door neighbour)
6pm - Dorothy and Betty S(my mother's friends, Dorothy is the prodigious knitter who made such wonderful things)
6.30pm - Anne Wilson, Caroline and Milly (Anne knows my mother through having had Caroline at almost the same time I was born and Milly is Caroline's daughter who had taken her first steps the day before)
xxxpm - Anne, Lynsay and Iain have arrived at some point and are blending in)
7pm - Ryan and Jaquie (my nephew and his girlfriend)
8pm - George and Morag McKenzie (ex-next door neighbours)

It was an incredible day and although it was a little bit packed at times it was such a pleasure to see everyone and for everyone to have the chance of a hold with Harriet. The presents continued to arrive so our thank-you list started expanding again despite us managing to clear some of the back-log. My mother had prepared a large buffet that kept everyone happy and Harriet behaved beautifully despite not having a decent sleep all day.

The next day was mercifully much quieter. In the afternoon Kathleen came (another of my mother's friends) and later on it was Eileen, Donna and Rebecca (Eileen my aunt, Donna her daughter and Rebecca Donna's daughter - Donna is due in five weeks and was looking great). We delivered one other thank you letter and had another photo opportunity with Nan and John (my sister's neighbours) and waved at a distance to more friends Rose and Willie (Rose had shingles so was out of bounds).

In the evening my parents took us for a meal out at Benny T's before hitting the sack at a respectable 9m.

We've just arrived back after another long but mercifully uneventful drive and are now looking forward to a weekend of rest (well, that and ordering a shipping container to keep some of Harriet's stuff in).

The Grand Tour - Part One

I have two weeks of paternity leave so we are off touring the country to show off the new arrival. This week we travelled up to the Midlands to see Jay's family and also to retrieve Arto from storage and take back Daisy from her holiday with Ash.

Arto (unlike the Land Rover) started first time and it was soon restocked with the new essentials of our life on the road - the steriliser, nappies, SMA Gold ready mixed cartons, dog chews, ready meals, beer and wine.

The first night we took her to see the family Lomas (Kev, Amy, Josh, Toby, Jack, Tom and Chester - Jay's brother and family). She was not on her best behaviour - it had been a nightmare car journey up and she needed to sleep - but everyone loved her of course no matter what mood she was in. Typical of the trip I forgot the camera so there were no pictures alas. Gill and Chris as so often provided us with a delicious meal.

The next day it was off to see Sue and Graham (Jay's Aunt and Uncle) who were looking after Jade and Molly (Sue and Graham's grand-daughters) so they got to see Harriet and we got to see Jade and Molly's fabulous new house. The lack of wires coming from the many large screen flat tvs was particularly noted (... Chris's handiwork we were admiring there). Even Graham, who allegedly prefers not to handle babies so young and fragile, had a hold and Jade and Molly did too under orders from Sue. No camera again so you'll have to take our word for it.

In the afternnon we took Granny and Gramps out for a meal in a pub in Barton, which was extremely delicious and well above average for pub food.

In the evening we visited Michael and Anne (Jay's Uncle and Aunt) at home and they cooked a fabulous meal. Such was Michael's commitment to seeing Harriet that he even missed Manchester United for it (he did run out the room every now again when it sounded like something had happened but the conversation just carried on without him). Michael has a keen interest in genealogy and he has already added Harriet to the family tree and amusingly put me down as the mother without realising that is exactly how I am treated on the birth certificate (well, in the final version I am "Mother/Parent2"). No photos again.

The next morning we visited Carolynn and Graham (Jay's sister-in-law Amy's mother and father). This time I did remember the camera so at last we have so photographs! We had a tour of their beautiful garden and but the stars of the show (other than Harriet) were the extremely addictive chocolate chip cookies which we couldn't stop talking about thereafter.

In the afternoon we made a pilgrimage to Branston Water Park. We have walked round this (Jay more than me admittedly) many, many times pushing Jessica's pram and we wanted to do it again but this time with our own. The mission was accomplished but sadly the pub had shut for the afternoon so Chris and I, unwilling to face an afternoon without a proper beer, walked back along the canal with Megan and Billy so we could stop off at the pub in Barton. It was a perfect walk although we did save ourselves a bit of time (to make up for the second pint) by crossing the A38 which is a bit hairy and only to be attempted with a maximum of one dog each.

The next day was Jay's birthday and in the morning Kev and Amy came round so we have some pictures of them with Harriet at last. In the afternoon Sarah, Rob and Jess came round with Milly. So Rob, Chris and I set off with three labradors (Billy, Milly and Henry), one golden retriever (Megan) and two west highland white terriers (Samper and Pippin). There was no danger of us attempting the A38 with that merry lot so we used the flyover but it was still a superb walk unmarked by incident despite us needing to walk through a field of cows and as a short cut crossing the lock gates (I was particularly proud of Pip who traversed the lock gates several times and even Billy managed it across unaided, we won't mention Scamper or Milly's poor show).

In the evening we were invited round to Sarah and Rob's. Gill and Chris had bought the food - the centrepiece being an enormous salmon - and Sarah and Rob cooked it. It was stunningly good and sadly we could only do justice to half of it. For desert we had of course the birthday cake although that was with only a token candle since fitting the actual number on is a bit tricky these days.

We returned home the next day very happy. Next stop - Scotland!

Everything Changes

We’re not out of the woods yet because in many ways nothing has changed, but really everything has changed.

All my nightmares and worst fears evaporated in an instant when I saw Jay and Harriet enter the International Arrivals Hall at Terminal Five. We have a six month visa to sort out her legal status definitively.

And now we are at home, here in Hertfordshire with Harriet in the Moses basket that once Jay slept in.

We have counted down the weeks for so long, anticipated and worried about so much but now all those hopes are become reality - a reality in an infant’s bouncer chair that makes her presence known I can assure you!

Her song, that calms her is the theme from Babe; “If I had words”. Well, if I had words I’d tell you how I feel and maybe soon I will but for the moment I cannot think of a stream of words that sum up sufficiently how I feel. Every milestone has been great but this is quite simply, the best.

Boredom

It's been a beautiful day here in Hertfordshire, sunny and slightly warm. Scamper, Pip and Billy have been easy to deal with since I can give them a good, tiring walk. They have all been the vets to have their vaccinations and a general check up and all have been pronounced to be in excellent shape (Billy's teeth receiving particularly good marks).

I continue to see Harriet and Jay every day thanks to Skype. Dealing with the lawyers has continued to be extremely difficult although we finally got some sort of response from him last week. Still nothing from the Home Office though. I am not losing hope and I'm sure I'll see her soon but definitely not soon enough. The US passport application has gone through (we already have the Holy Grail of US personal ID the social security number) and we are desperately hoping that it will arrive soon.

So it's just the same old boring stuff - but not for much longer I hope!

Still waiting

These are not happy days. Harriet is healthy and well and that is the most important thing but it's difficult to feel good when she is 6,000 miles away. They are staying in a hotel with walls of paper and it makes it very hard to leave her to lie and cry herself to sleep so Jay is exhausted.

I can't make the legal situation resolve itself even though I desperately want it to. We are ineligible to automatically register for citizenship because she is illegitimate and must rely on Home Office discretion. They were told about our case five months ago but their website complains that due to the new points based system of work based immigration they are very busy and will take six months to process anything. We are paying very expensive immigration lawyers (350 pounds an hour) to try to resolve it but I am having a nightmare dealing with them too. I have explained our desperate situation but it doesn't seem to make much difference - immigration lawyers I guess hear lots of sorry tales and they just basically do not care. I phone every day or email and I pray everytime I return to may desk that I will have an email or voicemail and I am disappointed every time. It's killing me that Jay is suffering so badly out there and I can't help.

Our best hope at the moment it seems to me is to get the US passport and then come in on this. We still need the social security number to apply for this but in principle it shouldn't be too hard. If someone said to us - you will be home in x weeks no matter what that x was we could make plans and it would be bearable. But when you get up each day and this might be day that you get news but then it isn't, it's draining.

So that is why I haven't written a blog for a while because frankly you don't want to listen to me. It's not the usual boring new parent stuff of every new little thing. I just feel like I'm letting my family down.

The First Days

We returned yesterday to the Hospital to complete the paperwork.  The main issue was the unusual fact that the mother (me) was not present in the country when the birth took place.  I signed the birth certificate form and we will pick up the actual certificate next week.  At this point we will be able to apply for a US passport.  As for the UK situation we are still waiting to hear from the lawyers, who are still waiting to hear from the Home Office.  Most likely what will happen is that we will register the birth at the UK consulate in San Francisco although the best outcome would still be that they would allow us a temporary visa to come home on the US passport since this can be obtained far more quickly.

It's a worry but it's something that will just have to get dealt with and compared to all the problems we could have had there is nothing too serious about which to complain.  Sleeping beautifully in her cot, all wrapped up snug and tight, is a healthy and happy little girl.  

Our main wish for being back in the UK is of course that we want to show her off to family and friends.  A small consolation has been our celebrity status in the hospital so that when we went in to the finance office to settle the bill for Harriet's stay (thanks to her rude health a mercifully small amount in the context of US medical bills) we were immediately surrounded.  People desperately wanted to see her and were so enthusiastic and warm.

I have caught up on all the details of the birth and I am so pleased that it went so well.  The hospital have a protocol for surrogacy and while it was a bit of a new area for some of the staff they caught up quickly.  Harriet was treated completely as our baby (and was admitted as such to the hospital once she was born) and Jay was treated as the mum.  Jennifer never took her eyes off him during the birth because that she was concentrating on what she has always seen as her role: not having a baby but making us a family.  She is well and is back with her children and Jay talked lots and heard such encouraging and wonderful things from her.  Jay met her mother and father and we have received supportive messages from other members of her family.

 In short, my absence aside, everything was perfect.

I was there the next day and arrived just after they had been discharged.  It has been a magical few days with a perfect little girl.  I cannot wait to show her to everyone to let you see for yourselves.  Words are not enough.

Not in Kansas Now

Harriet Edana Love-Mason, born Sacramento, California at 3.37am February 24th 2009.

This is a day for joy and celebration and nothing will diminish that. Yes I would have loved to have been there for the moment rather than sitting at my desk waiting to join a meeting on regulatory value-at-risk but that is as nothing. All that mattered to me was that everyone was safe and healthy and that is what I got.

We had joked of course that in many ways it looked like we had made it all up and we just liked going to California. After all no-one had ever met Jennifer until Gill travelled to the States and we could just have paid her off with cinnamon flavoured coffee! The story, let us be honest, seems too strange to be true. Where it begins is hard to say. The practical steps began in the Lord Palmerston pub in Walthamstow as Jay began to break down my resistance to such radical thoughts. I'm not ashamed to say that it was not high on my list of priorities - there are two of you in the relationship to get your priorities in order after all.

It's an awesome responsibility but I'm sanguine about it all because I know that between us we might not have all bases covered but we've got the wit, the wherewithall and perhaps just about the right amount of recklessness to give anything a fair go.

Anyway back to the story. I managed to phone my mother, sister, brother and Aunty Betty and talk to Jay of course and hear her for the first time, reducing me to tears. Then it was time for lunch and then to attend the Ongoing Derivatives meeting and hammer home my points about the risk management of some new trades. I then spoke to HR about parental leave and they need to do some research into my rather complicated case but my management have been superb and it was not an issue to take more time off. I booked my flight to leave Heathrow the following morning at 9.30am and soon I had done all the other necessary admin by booking the car parking and the hire car at San Francisco. Then it was off to the Valuations Working Group to opine some more and I stayed till 8pm trying to leave everything in an orderly fashion.

Oh I forgot Mango so I need to speak to Claire and tell her the news and arrange cover and then I have to do some washing and tidy up and then...

So it's been a bit of a rush, which is good because I almost don't want to stop and have to contemplate it all. At least that is until I have her in my arms and then time and work and opinions and booking flights can stop, if only for a little while.

Home

There was a bit of drama at the airport when the bag I was carrying back weighed in at just over 30kg and the British Airways staff were reluctant to take it. When they finally agreed to take it their credit card machine would not work for taking the excess bag fee so yet more delays; in the meantime the queue behind me just grew and I can imagine the choice terms some of them were using.

After about half an hour I finally left the "Fast Bag Drop" counter and headed home.

I had hired a car at Heathrow and was excited when the assistant told me they didn't have any mondeos so I would be upgraded. So what did I get you ask - a convertible? a mercedes? a BMW? No they gave me a huge MPV the width of Arto, oh the glamour.

I went home and said hello to Mango and then went into work. It was good to catch up on everything. There was some good news including the fact that two people who were made redundant whom I liked have returned to firm and one of them in a much better job. After all the doom and gloom I'm so pleased for them.

My apologies to those of you, particularly those of you in the public sector, who were offended by my previous blog. I was just feeling a bit defensive about why I had to go back to work because people had kept asking whether I could hang on a few more days and I couldn't. I don't want to be back here believe me but I think it is for the best. There are of course many people in the public sector who are losing there jobs although sadly not any cabinet ministers yet.

The first two days were fine but the jet lag is really bad today. I'm writing this on Sunday at 11am and I am desperate to get to bed. Normally I would just play on the computer but we have another person coming to view the house in twenty minutes so I can't. Things might have picked up since this is the second person who has come in a week but I'm not hopeful. The expense of the surrogacy means that a realistic offer for the house is probably not enough for us at the moment.

Still no news from the US although at tomorrow's hospital appointment we should at least book the induction. I will probably go out next weekend for a few days and then once again depending on how long sorting out the immigration takes. It will be nice to see a bit more of California than the hotel room and the drainage canal and hopefully their winter storms will have subsided.

Time for another coffee.

Flight Booked

I have booked my flight back to England (well changed my original return date, for the princely sum of fifty pounds).  I will leave tomorrow for the land where a scone is something to eat with jam and cream (rather than the mashed potato and gravy that is more popular here).  

It's desperately sad on many levels but we did have some good news today.  We were sent to the hospital for some activity tests.  This meant that I got to see the hospital, got to spend an hour in the labour room with Jennifer wired up to machines and basically just picture the scene and feel part of things.  There was no actual labour but on the plus side all Harriet's vitals were good.  We got to see a scan as well although this was done rather too efficiently and was for the purpose of checking how much fluid there was (plenty apparently).

I have wasted valuable holiday and been terribly bored but she is well and I am happy.  There will be another appointment on Monday and then the induction will be scheduled.  I will come out fairly soon afterwards for a weekend and maybe again.  It will be hard to do all that travelling but it will be worth it.   

Still

The only news we have relates to the US pre-birth judgement.  This was finally issued on Friday and although we have always treated it as a fait-accompli it is still one of the most remarkable pieces of the jigsaw and is precisely the reason that we wanted to do it in California in the first place.  It establishes our parental relationship with the child "due to be born on or around the 9th February" (lol) and the fact that this is the sole parental relationship.

I will certainly be returning to the UK next week.  We still hope desperately that Harriet will be born before then and I will leave the booking to the last possible minute but we need to be realistic.  There is simply no way to predict accurately when a birth will occur.  The best information that we had (namely that this will be a fourth baby and there was a scare about early onset labour at 35 weeks) meant that we chose to come out early and we would have to do the same again.  

Our surrogate is following every possible old-wives tale no matter how unpleasant - walking, climbing stairs, taking very hot showers and drinking  concotions of spices, balsamic vingegar and just about everything else.  She is separated from her daughters until the birth and enduring all manner of pains in just about everywhere.  We're all desparate but desparation and want does not a baby produce and we've all just had to get used to it.

It will be terrible if I'm not there but it will not be the end of the world.  The reality is that I have pushed my luck being out this length of time since finance is not a stable industry at the moment and everyone is obsessed about 'face time'.  This is not the public sector and I will need to tread carefully because we need the job and the greater good is being able to provide for her and making provision for one day doing it again.  

I also need to make sure that I still have some leave so that I can spend some quality time with her when she is actually back in the country and we can go away in Arto on holiday.  I can't wait.  Well, actually I can and I'm going to have to.  

 

This is where we are

The news is that there is no news. The most important thing is that Harriet is safe and for that I am grateful. Alas she is not willing to show her face yet and there is nothing we can do about that except just wait. The best case scenario now is that she will be born and I have a few days with her before I go back to work. Jay will have to deal with the consulate and registration by himself with me doing as much of the work by telephone as possible. Today we got an email from our UK lawyer who copied to us the extensive correspondence between him and the Home Office. This depressing chain of emails starts positively based on an existing precedent but it can't apply directly to us, the problem being that our surrogate is married and so Harriet will be 'illegitimate' and ineligible for automatic citizenship. Despite having the details for a few months now and referring our difficult matter to their senior management weeks ago their opinion is that they need a letter to give it individual attention although happily they are going to give detailed guidance on this type of issue in the "near future". The likelihood is that Harriet will need to stay out in the US until a decision is reached. Maybe I'll see her before she's three months old, maybe I won't.

Of course I should have checked this out before but the cast iron nature of our legal relationship in the US meant that I really didn't see that there would be an issue and certainly the idea that it boils down to legitimacy is so absurd and so unfair. That said, the US law is yet another pain. We paid months ago and signed all the documents before we came out after hassling the lawyer to get his act together. Then we had to resign the documents for reasons unknown and wait yet again. We were promised that the judgement would be here today but it has not arrived. I hate being beligerent, chasing people by phone, email and text for any information but it's all I've go to do.

I'll skim over the fact that our surrogate was involved in a car accident yesterday (she was not hurt, everything is fine) and the fact that the doctor has the wrong due date. Here we are stuck staring at the walls of a hotel room, starved of any sense of control and going slightly mad. Let's be clear, I am not writing this because I'm looking for any commiserations or even any word of encouragement. Everything will be fine and will be sorted out in due course and years hence it will all be a good story or least good legal case history. I am writing it because the whole point of the blog was to keep people informed and involved in the journey during the good times and the bad. Writing about these problems is significantly easier than when I wrote about our losing the twin and I return to the place I opened this. We are so grateful for her and so glad that she is safe and well. We couldn't ask for more.

There's Probably No Bus

The weather has taken a turn for the worse - we've had a little bit of rain in the past few days.  Not that Californians regard it as a turn for the worse; they are probably glad of the water, which is as scarce a resource here as sunny summer days in Britain.  

We still have no news so we are still sitting around listening to BBC radio via the internet.  The snow is a small consolation for my coming out here too early since if I had left it later I might well have become trapped in Heathrow for days.  There is little chance that I would have made it to work since the B1004 is unlikely to be a priority for Hertfordshire County Council.  It would have been lonely being stuck in the house with no dogs, just a pestering cat.  

We can't travel too far, ever hopeful of the call to the hospital, so we restrict our visits to the outside world to nearby restaurants.  Having had more than enough burgers we extended our diet to Chinese food and then yesterday to Cheesecake factory.  One of the little differences and one I would like to change is the American habit of making starters absolutely enormous and bringing in the main course almost immediately afterwards.  At least in the Cheesecake factory we had wised up to the fact that a single start would be more than enough for all of us but that 

was more than cancelled out by the cheesecakes themselves.

It's 9am and now we are settling down to another day of waiting.  The only decision to make is where to eat.  Hopefully it will be the hospital canteen.

Time Passes Slowly

Our last trip out was Saturday when we visited Lake Tahoe but since then we have not been able to travel too far.  We are very close and expecting the call to the hospital any time soon.

In the meantime we must try to occupy ourselves.  Like many people who have unwanted time on their hands I have written a letter of complaint in response to a newspaper article, walked in pointless loops by the river (or to be more precise the "main drainage canal") and read all the books I have brought.

I have been trying to read some American fiction and began with John Updike's Toward the End of Time.  The backdrop to this story, namely a devastating war between China and the US in 2020 and the breakdown of state organisations, is so interesting to me but makes very little impact on the story.  The voice of the novel, a 66 year old whose journal it is, is a generally unlikeable man and the frequent sex is pretty unpalatable.  And yet, while not exactly a fluid novel, it does carry you steadfastly through a keenly observed year with many quotable paragraphs and reflective moments.  The heaviness of the prose is apt for a novel fixated, in addition to sex, on death and decay.

I much preferred Cannery Row, which casts its net wider and brings in many endearing characters.  When I first visited California I raved about it and asked an American friend to recommend to me a book that would put me off it.  Cannery Row was the best she could come up but it achieved no such purpose.  The depressing fact of greed's extermination of the sardine stocks in a space of two years exists outside of the book.  It is a good reason for taking a dim view of California, of the developed world generally, but on the other hand my dominant thoughts are of Doc collecting starfish and octopus at the Pacific's edge, of Mack and the boys in the model T and the insane stocklist of Lee Chong's store.

If Cannery Row cheered me my heart started to race with The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon.  I had picked him out because I had recently read and hugely enjoyed Gentlement of Road before I came to the US.  I am not yet a 66 year old ex-financier living in a world destroyed by war and I will never be a resident of Monterey full of working canneries but I have been a student gazing out on a long vacation, waiting for the next stage.  It tells the story of a final year student's summer and his friendships and affairs with four others.  It's such a beautiful story and awakened so many memories in me that to some extent I am now a bit deflated that it is finished.  

I discovered that a film has been made to be released in 2009 and was horrified to learn that the relationship that meant the most to me, between Arthur and Art, had been removed.  Apparently the director felt that having four characters and a love "rhombus" was too complicated and he proposed a simplified triangular structure by combining the important aspects of Arthur with Cleveland.  Yes well, maybe whisky and wine is too much for a single meal but the solution is hardly to mix them in the same glass.  This piece of celluloid idiocy I will not see.

So there we go.  Now the book review is finished and still no word; time to find something else to do to pass the time that doesn't involve just slowly banging my head against the wall. 

 

 

Musing in the sunshine

Is this the worst time to be a child in the UK?  The Good Childhood Inquiry produced by the Children's Society and released this week paints a dire picture and it's consistent with so many of the stories that have dominated the news recently.  It is welcome but it is a difficult subject to discuss because people feel very defensive about the issues that are too close to them and it is so often picked up most prominently by the reactionary right-wing press.

Like many people whose preference is for the hard science of test tubes and particle accelerators I am usually dismissive of social science.  An individual case tells you next to nothing.  Everyone knows examples where both parents stay at home and the home environment is terrible and examples where there is one parent who does a wonderful job.  Where is the numerical tipping point at which you can start to conclude what is best?  More likely I suspect you start with some preconceived ideas and beliefs generated some other way, often through membership of some ideology, religious or political, and then go hunting for the data that supports your view.  

This report may be no different and my own approach to it may be that which I have already identified but overall I think it reaches sensible conclusions with which most people could agree.  The basic charge is that the excessive pursuit of individual needs and goals has made children's lives harder.  Some people will be automatically defensive because they feel that this implies that women shouldn't go to work or that single parent families are doomed.  Yet although it clearly is about individuals and their choices it is equally about matters of public policy that will allow people to make sensible choices.

The difficulty for public policy makers is that they need to find that numerical tipping point where their actions benefit as wide a section of society as possible while at the same time doing the least amount of harm to everyone else.  My instinct is that I do not want or require any advice from a state employee on parenting although I am happy to read the gospel according to Miriam Stoppard.  I will need state advice of course, particularly on aspects of dealing with the state such as the health and education systems; it just needs to be available conveniently and not bother me with the information that a diet of chips and cola is not sensible.

For the moment this is all academic theorising since we are still waiting here in the Californian sunshine.  I really want to start putting it all into practice but patience remains the watchword of the day.  Not exactly my strongest suit but probably good practice... 

 

 

Patience

I've been in Sacramento now since Tuesday and it's a pleasant time to be in California. We visited the Napa Valley on Thursday; a typically Californian experience that involved tasting wine in an Italian castle that had been shipped over and reconstructed in the vineyard. Yesterday we met Jennifer and I got to see and feel Harriet moving so persistently. Jennifer and the girls looked great. Perhaps this weekend we will go to Reno, trying to keep busy so that the time passes until the moment arrives. There is so much we need to do and soon I will have to return home to sort out the animals and keep my job but we need to rely on Harriet to judge the right moment. We will be ready - the nappies, food and clothes are packed, the hospital address is stored in the GPS and the phone is watched very carefully. But for now the only thing required of us is patience.

Take a deep breath

There is nothing more to be said really. I just have to amuse myself for a few hours and then begin the most difficult part of my journey - from Hertfordshire to Heathrow taking about the same time as the flight to San Francisco...

I did the farewells in the office today. It feels strange doing that when so many people are doing it because they are leaving for good due to their being put "at risk of redundancy" (that is the jargon can you believe, "did you hear so-and-so has been put at-risk"). It's still a very turbulent time and while there are green shoots it's difficult to know whether they will be enough to sustain you.

Today was a hectic day of trying to leave my affairs in order. Once word got around that I was off for a long time ("oh shit" was in many ways one of the nicest and most complimentary responses I got) people were bombarding me with calls and emails. My head was sore at the end and joy of joy the A13 was backed up even at 7.30pm.

Sometimes you want time to pass and sometimes you want it stand still. Friday evening I wanted time to stop because I knew that the weekend was the last little piece of calm and then it would all begin. I'm feeling as confident about the birth as one should at 38 weeks while I realise all sorts of terrible things may yet happen there is nothing to be gained by worrying about that (since they have the same probability of all sorts of wonderful things, equally not to be dwelt upon I fear). Instead I have been preoccupied by all the practical stuff and worrying about where the embassy is, whether the lawyers will do their jobs efficiently and whether all our animal keepers will emerge from this with their sanity.

Everyone during the goodbyes wished us well. Some seemed to think it was all so "exciting" whereas the word they were surely grasping for was "terrifying". I feel a bit like Indiana Jones (not a common occurrence I assure you) in the "Last Crusade" when he needs to step off the side of the cliff into the chasm and hope there is some means of stopping him from falling.

Here goes...

The next stage

There's not much more to write, from here at least. Friday was the last day I got up and Jay drove me to work then picked me up from the station in the evening. That humdrum, normality won't be there again, at least not for a long time.

On Saturday Jay took Arto and Billy to the Midlands and the adventure begins. He returned with his mother on Sunday and they fly to San Francisco on Tuesday. It's difficult to imagine what happens beyond then.

The house has been so quiet since the dogs, particularly Scamper, left. My parents have been phoning in with status updates and in the background I can hear her shouting at the world and I miss her and Pip. I know we will see them all again but things will never be the same again. Most couples get to spend the pregnancy getting ready whereas our child has been 6,000 miles away so it's never seemed quite as real in a way. There have been no prenatal classes and no gradual sense of progress - every milestone is accompanied by the slight bump of an eleven hour flight. That said I was talking to a friend yesterday who said we were very prepared - her daughter was born at 30 weeks and she had nothing at all ready.

Thank you to all of you who have sent us messages of support and interest. We will of course keep you all informed in any way we can. It's not the end of the journey, it's really the beginning.

The Farewell tour begins

The first big date on the schedule was Scotland. We set the alarm for 4 o'clock and hit the road just before five. We had a brief stop to leave Billy with Sarah, Rob, Jess and Milly for the night and continued up the M6, M74, M73, A80, M9 before finally arriving in Maddiston.

We were only there for one night but at least it was enough for Scamper and Pip to get used to their new surroundings while we were still there. My mother and father have never had a dog and as far as I know have never had any desire for a dog but now they have two and two little handfuls at that. My mother was putting on a brave face and said that frankly they could do what they liked because she was due a new sofa, carpet and rug anyway. That said, when we joked that she might not want to give them back she was pretty quick at retorting "you should be so lucky".

It felt strange saying goodbye to everyone. It felt so momentous, almost like we were going away for ever and of course in a way that's true. The next time they see us it will all be so very different.

We've returned to an empty house. Mango was hassling us for some fresh food and Billy was there but without the Westies there is almost total silence. It feels like we are holding our breath and just waiting on the end of the diving board trying to work up the courage to go. But it doesn't matter, we don't need courage since there is no going back now. What we do need is luck and hope so we are half way there already.

Resolutions

New Year's resolutions do not seem very relevant this year (if they ever did). Whatever we resolve to do or not to do it is likely to make little difference since this year, whatever happens, will be one of dramatic change. It is appropriate that this weekend, so similar to so many previous weekends of walking, the pub and television, feels so different because it will be the last one like it. Next week we will go to Scotland to drop off Scamper and Pip and the following weekend Jay will go the Midlands to drop off Billy and Arto and pick up his mother.

Then he is off to San Francisco and so it will begin. At least, that is assuming that something doesn't happen before hand requiring a complete change of plans.

It's important when looking out to 2009 to try to get the full picture in view. Some parts are currently looking deeply unsatisfactory, namely the legal situation here and in the US (our US lawyer is leaving things dangerously late and is causing us some anxiety). Other parts are currently looking absolutely terrifying (the birth). Yet beyond all of that is our daughter who will become the most treasured part of our lives.

There are beginnings and endings everywhere. Some things have gone, others are going and a whole new world is just around the corner. It's worthwhile diverting attention to some more trivial matters before it all explodes in your mind so I'm pleased to say that I have discovered that if she is born after January 26 she will be born in the year of the Ox and this is well suited to Jay and to me who were born in the year of the Snake. Clearly it's all a lot of nonsense since the idea that people born in a year are all alike is clearly disproved when you compare the two Snakes but it's still fun to find out.

As for star signs she will be either Aquarius or (less likely I hope since it's a week beyond the due date) Pisces. Still all rubbish even if this system does allow for 12 types of people in a year but then I think we would just about follow any superstition to ensure her safe delivery.

We don't know where the future is going to take us but I'll sign off now because we've got to pack and get going. One thing is for sure 2009 will be a year for us like no other.