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Canada
Sunday, January 16, 2000 Jack had wanted us to go to Canada today. I've never been across the border here, though I've lived in Washington state for eleven years or so. (I did visit Canada as a kid; my family took camping vacations to Expo 67 at Montreal, and the Bay of Fundy in Nova Scotia a few years later.) We didn't have any particular goal in mind for this jaunt, but Jack wanted to get to the duty-free shop. Jack had to go into work after getting beeped for a tech-support call, but he got back before noon, so we decided to go anyway. I'd already decided not to drive down to Seattle until tomorrow morning, because the weather was going to get bad, according to predictions. A big windstorm was on its way, but it would hit the south first. It made me laugh to see the dusting of snow on the ground, just a few miles north of Bellingham. It seemed so cliché.
In just a few miles we were at the border in Blaine, Washington. The Peace Arch is a notable feature of the state park we were driving through. The Canadian customs offical looked at my ID, and Jack's ID. But H----, Jack's daughter, didn't have any id! So he directed us to drive up to the building ahead, park, and go in to convince the Canadian immigration that it was OK to let H---- into the country. We went in and spoke with the official behind the counter, a middle-aged man who I suspect had a dry sense of humor. Jack went through his wallet -- no evidence there that H---- is his daughter. They resemble each other a lot, though; it's evident that they are related. The official sends Jack out to his car, to root around in there for a medical card or some sort of paperwork. (I think this is taken even more seriously because Jack doesn't have custody of this daughter.) The official asks H---- for her mom's phone number, and he calls her up. I think Jack's ex-wife was rather baffled by this, but confirmed that it was ok for H---- to be with her father. No risk that he was going to be fleeing the country and taking H---- with him. So when Jack came back in, we were able to tell him all was ok! But the official said it would be a good thing to carry a copy of H----'s birth certificate. Driving in the alien north country, with the signs in kilometers. We looked for the duty-free shop, but we didn't see a sign for it. No, we didn't have a map, why do you ask? We took the next major-looking exit, and drove around somewhat randomly, following tourist signs for a "beach and promenade" in White Rock. That sounded like something worth visting, even though it's certainly the off-season. We made our way to the water, and parked. There were low, two-story buildings on the landward side, with shops and restaurants on the ground floor, and apartments above. The promenade (we'd found it!) was at the bottom of a hill, with doubtless valuable view properties continuing up the slope. It was cold and windy! We walked several blocks, scoping out which restaurants were open, then walked back and ate in one of the first we'd looked at. Kim's Fish and chips was a casual place, paneled in wood. There was one other customer, an older man reading the paper at a large round table in the center. A lively Korean(?) older woman came out and seated us close to the heater, which was appreciated! Jack and I had halibut and chips, and H--- had prawns and chips. After we ate, we crossed the street, climbed the low stairs over the railroad tracks, and walked on the promenade. Jack and H--- scrambled a few feet down to the water, tossing rocks. The wind was really getting strong! H---- had now remembered that she'd visited this town last summer, on one of her day-camp excursions, so she directed us to drive along the water for a short way. Where we'd eaten lunch was evidently the part of the waterfront that wasn't doing so well; the main commercial tourist area was where we went next. We parked and visited some shops. I really wanted to find some that didn't have tourist crap available everywhere. The wind was getting so strong that signboards and chairs were being blown over. I did find something (in a hemp products store) that I wanted to buy: a black, woven wool hat that's shaped like a russian fur hat. It's big enough for my head, not itchy, and I wore it right out of the store. The oddest shop we visited was a new-agey candle, crystal, and herb shop. Jack was impressed by the blown-glass oil lamps. None of us were impressed by the psychic reader man who was giving a reading in the back of the store. Jack nearly got whacked on the head by a metal sign just outside the door, on our way in. An omen?
We took a different route back to the border, and we did see the signs for the duty-free shop. We wandered around, and Jack found the cask-strength single malt scotch that he wanted. I added a cointrea-filled Lindor chocolate bar to the purchase; those aren't available in Washington state. There was a backup of traffic going south; it took about an hour to get through! Jack said I should get out and go look at the Peace Arch while we were waiting, but it was too cold and dark for this to tempt me. We got through the border without being searched or hassled by U.S. Customs. The wind was so strong we almost were blown off the road, once we got going.
We made brown rice for dinner (in the rice cooker again), then put chili over it, which was a satisfying, quick dinner. To get ready for the delivery of the futon tomorrow, Jack wanted to unpack his pictures and hang them -- they'd been sitting beside his chair, wrapped in brown paper and cardboard, ever since he moved into this house last summer. At first he was irritable and harried; he couldn't find the picture-hanging hardware he knew he had somewhere. The hooks on adhesive patches he could find couldn't hold the weight of the large tiger painting he wanted to hand. I tried to stay out of the way during this phase. Jack did acknowledge that he was sounding irritated, and made it clear that he wasn't mad at H---- or me. He gets frustrated, and he gets loud! Finally he dug through his storage tubs and found the picture stuff he wanted. We got the tiger picture hung, then he asked my advice on how to group the other art. I tried to duck this (those pictures are his, not mine) but Jack called me on it. "If they were yours, you wouldn't hang any them, would you?" he asked, laughing. They aren't ugly or anything, just not my style. I did do some logical sorting so they balanced asymmetrically on the main wall, above where the futon will be. Jack was able to decide on the pieces that should go up the stairs by himself. H--- wanted to play another game of Dungeon, this time playing the advanced version. It did make the game more complicated; we were each playing a different type of character, and that changed what dice rolls we had to make when encountering a monster, for example. H---- won this game, which didn't quite please her -- she wanted the game to go on longer. We watched the last tape of "serial experiment: lain." I think most of the loose ends were tied up in the conclusions. It's a bit like the Prisoner! A strong setup, some episodes that vary in quality, then a big wrap-up.
I got to cuddle with Jack before we fell asleep. He's usually zonked before I brush my teeth and get my contact lenses out, but this time I was in bed first, ha! He confessed that he was half-asleep already, as I cozied up with his arms around me. "I know, honey," I replied, but kept talking for a few minutes more. It was so intimate and comfortable -- I really crave moments like that.
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