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If you want to go straight to the Aftermath, you may do so now!
...
On our last Friday night we went to visit Walt and Barbara Littles for dinner. We had a great evening in their Georgian town-house, with a fire raging against the cold that had moved into the area, eating a delicious meal prepared by Walt's own hand followed by one of Barbara's favourite desserts. As Walt, like Kajsa, is a big fan of scotch, Tim had to drive home.
The following day started off quite depressingly. We had to get up ridiculously early to drive past Annapolis to drop off Baldrick. We handed over the car at a little roadside restaurant just over the bridge to the east of Annapolis and then consoled ourselves with a hot chocolate. The new owner was quite a trusting chap because he paid for the car even though we had not been able to present him with the title (the deed of ownership). The documents had been held up in the Department of State because the functionary responsible for processing it had been on holiday, celebrating the joint birthday of Sol Invicturas and the Roman Emperor Constantine. By the time that normal mortals would have been very concerned about whether the title was going to be delivered before we left the country, Tim was at the point that lies beyond stress, the point at which the announcement of another minor disaster elicits no more response than polite interest, barely registering above apathy.
As we were now so close and we had not got around to visiting Annapolis in the previous two and a half years, we decided to drive around this highly recommended tourist town. Annapolis is highly recommended, but normally only in summer. There are bunches of yachts, lovely little outside cafés and nice little boutique shops (actually one of us was quite happy that he missed out on the little boutiques). Great for summer, maybe even spring or fall but not when there is a thin film of ice on the water. Therefore, we drove through the town, remarked on how sad it was that we had not got to see it properly and headed off for Washington.
In the afternoon we dropped the kids off with AnnaCarin and then went to Glenn and Vicki's for our farewell. As usual, they served up a great spread and we had a very good time. Unfortunately, probably due to the late notice of the party, quite a few people had to multiplex their time (a polite way to say that the bastards buggered off early). In the end, there were only our closest friends from the office remaining. This was actually very pleasant because, given the stresses soon to descend on us, we were really more in need of relaxation than frantic partying.
Sunday was spent doing all the last minute preparations for the removal which was to start the next day. This work mainly consisted of turning the house upside down and walking around with armfuls of belongings, trying to work out which of the half a dozen or so piles it needed to go in (a matrix dependent on when the stuff was to go, when it was bought and whether or not quarantine would want to look at it plus a few "to give away" piles).
Our attention started to be drawn to the weather which, it was forecast, promised snow and extreme cold in the following days. We decided that we weren't going to get too worried just as long as Tasha and our airfreight made it out of the country by the end of the week. We assumed that everything else could be sorted out by someone at the Embassy (albeit with lots of complaining and cajoling). Tasha was planned to go on the Tuesday and it was up to us to get her to the airport, we would get her there even if it meant that we had to give ourselves a few hours to make what is normally a fifteen minute trip. The airfreight would be picked up on Monday and, even by the most pessimistic reports, snow would not start to fall before Monday afternoon.
The only worry that Tim had, he suddenly realised, was that he didn't know what time the removalists would come and pick up the airfreight. Oh, well, not to worry. If they were to come early in the morning, they would wake us up, otherwise Tim would call up the Embassy and check.
There was one more little concern that was nagging away at Tim. Prior to going on leave, he had been worried about whether there would be a problem arranging an uplift on what was a public holiday in the US (Martin Luther King Jnr. Day). He had been assured that there would not be a problem but something about it all didn't seem quite right and he wondered at the time whether the people he was talking to had an attitude along the lines of "Hey, that's next year. Plenty of time to worry about that." Tim thought that he should check it out when he got back from leave. Naturally, until the night before the expected uplift, he forgot all about it.
The next morning, at around 9:00am, Tim rang the Embassy. Now, it is worth noting here that, while this day was a public holiday, the Embassy observes a combination of Australian and American holidays. Strangely enough, although this day would have provided staff with a long weekend, the Embassy was working, as was the removalist contractor's representative, Ursula. Tim spoke with her and felt the first light touch of the icy tendrils of terror.
Oh, let me look and see what time they are scheduled to come and get your things. Hm, I don't see anything here, can I call you back?
Five minutes later Tim got confirmation that disaster had struck. You see, in early December, Tim had organised the grand train trip through the US and organised for a removal based on those dates. In mid December, he went and spoke to Ursula and tentatively worked out alternative dates based on the brand new posting. Then, a few days later, he went and confirmed the new arrangements. Unfortunately, in Ursula's records the new plans remained tentative and her company was planning to pick up our stuff three weeks later. Fortunately, Ursula, with Swiss efficiency was able to arrange for the uplift to go ahead the next day. Even so, this pushed everything right by one day, with the exception of the arrival of the Rossendells, Tim's handover to Mike, our flight and Tasha's departure. We spent most of the remainder of the day organising for the pick-up of furniture and cleaning of the house to be shifted right and getting everything sorted out for Tasha's departure the next day.
Then with the post, we got the first inkling that leaving the house was going to be somewhat unpleasant, vis-á-vis the landlords. We got a legalistic letter stating that, as we were not covered by US service regulations and our notice was short, we would be required to pay rent until the end of February. This was quickly shovelled off to the Embassy and forgotten about for a couple days.
That afternoon we set ourselves up in our room at the Embassy Suites Tysons Corner.
After we got home from a delicious meal at Stina and Anders' (along with AnnaCarin and Staffan plus children various), we watched the Weather Channel eagerly. Snow was no longer expected until later the next day but Tuesday was expected to be bitterly cold. This has potential to provide us with a problem because air carriers will not accept live cargo beyond a set range of temperatures. Naturally, because of her breed, the cold is not that much of a problem for Tasha but we knew that we needed to ensure that we had documentation from a vet that stated that she could withstand extreme temperatures.
The removalists arrived bright and early the next morning and started emptying the house. Kajsa disappeared to the vet to get Tasha her last check up and Tim nervously watched the thermometer. Just after midday, with the temperature still dropping slowly - it was about minus 5 degrees C when Tim set off with Tasha. He arrived at the airport just as it started to snow. When he got in to talk to the receivers it seemed that everything was going to go smoothly until they read the document which stated that Tasha could withstand cold temperatures. Unfortunately, the vet had written that Tasha could withstand temperatures well below freezing, but not specified just how cold she could take. There was a mad rush to get a letter faxed from the vet that covered her at what was now around -6 C and then there was just one minor hurdle left.
"Oi, are we still taking live cargo?" - I think so. Unless it's colder than 20. How cold is it? "20." - Oh, well. We can still take them.
On the drive home, Tim was euphoric. The airfreight was being packed at that very moment, Tasha was as good as on the plane. Barring complete disaster, we would make it to the plane on Saturday with everything sorted out.
That evening, we delivered Rusty the Buick to his new owners, Stina and Anders. We had arranged with Jill and David to borrow their spare car during the week, but had needed the Buick up until Tim had delivered Tasha. Fortunately Stina and Anders didn't mind that we hung onto the car a little longer but we didn't really want to drive it around illegally (without plates) longer than we had to. We still had our "get out of jail free cards" (diplomatic immunity) but there was no need to get into trouble only a couple of days before departure. As we drove back to the hotel it started to snow and by the time we got to the hotel it was snowing heavily.
Overnight it snowed about a couple of inches, fortunately not enough to upset the removalists so the house was emptied out on Wednesday, with the exception of furniture, which went the next day.
Tim was planning to be at home for both removal days but on the Wednesday he had to go to work to finalise his handover to Mike Rossendell and complete our own paperwork. He raced around all morning and early afternoon before heading off to pick up the Rossendell clan and depositing them at their hotel. As he sat in their room drinking a coffee, he noted that he had had to wait ages for snow when he came to America and it looked like they were going to get some over the weekend, just as they arrived. Bastards.
Thursday was a particularly ironic day. During a Washington winter, you live for snow days. When it snows anything more than an inch or so, the government announces a liberal leave policy. This means you can stay home and play in the snow. Kids have to stay home from school and get to play in the snow. However, staying at home was not an option for Tim who had two days in which to conduct a two week handover to someone who just arrived in town the day before. So, Tim trudged off into the snow to go and get Mike and take him into the office. At home, Kajsa was stuck at the house with the removalists (after driving along deserted roads from the hotel, don't forget that all Greater Washingtonians are terrified of snow and only leave their houses in snow emergencies to buy milk and toilet paper.) Because schools were cancelled Kajsa was also stuck with the kids. Because all the winter clothes were gone (most importantly the snow shoes and proper gloves etc) playing outside in the snow was not going to happen for more than a couple of minutes at a time (it was still well below freezing outside). Because the furniture people were going in and out all day the heating managed to keep the temperature up about freezing, but only barely. Kajsa abandonned the house and spent the day going from neighbour to neighbour, ostensibly "visiting" but really keeping warm, using the dryer (to dry the kids clothes after short forays into the snow), getting fed and borrowing dry pairs of socks.
Tim spent most of the next two days giving Mike an accelerated hand-over. Fortunately, it appears that Mike was so confused at the time that he still hasn't notice how little real information he got. "Office, desk, coffee machine, in-tray, bye, thanks."
On Thursday night we had dinner with AnnaCarin, Staffan and the kids in our room. Later in the evening, Shosh turned up on her way home from work. Very shortly after she arrived, the fire alarm went off. So did the kids.
"Fire Drill! Fire Drill! Stop, drop and roll!" - Um, I think that last bit is only for when you're on fire.
We threw on our jackets and moseyed on down the fire escape and stood out in the cold (about 7 or 8 below by this time) until the fire engines arrived. "Wow. It's a real fire drill!"
A short time later it was confirmed that it was a false alarm and we went back up to our rooms. Just as we got our jackets off and sat back down, the fire alarm went off again. "It's another fire drill, let's go back downstairs! Quick quick quick." We rang the front desk and asked them to kindly give us a call if it was confirmed that there was a real fire because we weren't going back outside again. Just as AnnaCarin and Staffan left with the kids, there were moist eyes all round.
By this stage it seemed that all was well in our little escape plan. Tim was half finished with his handover, Tasha was already in quarantine in Australia and the house was empty. All that remained to be done was to let the cleaners in the house, get the kids to school for their farewells and, the next day, take the landlords through the house and get to the plane on time. Of course, it would have helped if the cleaners actually turned up on time, which they didn't. Kajsa was very worried that we would be left with the house in a complete mess and given the letter from the landlards ealier in the week, we could see that this would lead to us losing a huge chunk of our deposit. Finally the cleaners did turn. Then, because it was still bitterly cold and the roads were treacherous, Town and Country opened with a two hour delay so half of Taltarni's class didn't turn up (not a complete disaster but it was very sad that Taltarni didn't get to say goodbye to all her classmates).
In the afternoon, the cleaner (only one sick cleaner turned up, rather than the team that was expected) and the carpet cleaning chappie had to work around each other. Fortunately, the cleaner had turned up in time to get a large part of her work done before the carpet guy arrived, otherwise it could have been a complete disaster.
That night, after Tim made a mad dash to the Rossendells' hotel with a pile of stuff that had to be handed over (phones, microwave, kettle, etc, etc) we had a small number of people come to the hotel for a couple of drinks and dinner. We ate Chinese and reminisced and felt a bit sad about our impending departure.
Finally, on Saturday we were planning to rest. Rest and recreation happened. It just wasn't us, per se. Kajsa stayed behind with the kids and swam in the hotel pool. Tim still had a few things to do, he had to go to Great Falls village to pick up some photos, get some last things out of the house and put them out to be picked up by the garbos (they were too big for Kajsa to move) and he had to go through the house with the landlords. When he finally got to the house he realised he was going to have a bigger problem than he had thought he would.
Keen readers will recall the story of Wolfgang's wheels. The ones that were picked up by the removalists in Australia and transported all the way to America. The ones that Tim to get rid of tried a few times. They were still sitting outside the house. Bugger. Fortunately Jill and David's car is a big one and it was able to fit all five wheels in the boot, so Tim had somewhere to hide Wolfgang's only earthly remains while he thought about how to get rid of them. Shortly after the wheels were stashed in the boot, the landlord arrived.
Thankfully that word is written in singular because Wayne Dameron arrived sans Sharon Dameron. We never had a problem with Wayne in our whole time at the house but Sharon was a different matter. Until the end, she never did anything bad, as such, she just seemed unpleasant and very distant. We suspect that she was thinking like the lawyer she is and thought of us as people she might have to sue someday. Anyway, Tim did the walkthrough with Wayne, which took far more time than expected and everything seemed to end on a positive note, even to the extent that he stated that we had obviously looked after the property.
Then he was gone and Tim bolted off to Jill and David's to get a lift back to the hotel (obviously, with now less than six hours in Washington, we had to return the car). With the minute ticking away, Tim was a bit edgy at this point and in his mind he was going through all the things that still needed to be done - shower, check out early so that any problems could be sorted, check that the car would be on time to pick us up for the the airport, check that the plane was on time, separate the tickets and passports before the final packing, get the phone battery charger to the front desk. The previous evening, Tim had passed the mobile phone over to Mike and Heidi but in the excitement surrounding yet another batch of fire alarms, he had forgotten to hand over the battery charger. Meanwhile, David was wandering around the house doing something that did not seem immediately relevant to driving Tim back to the hotel. Still, as this was a favour, Tim could not complain. He hates that.
When he finally got back to the hotel and bid his fond farewells to our closest neighbour, Tim found that Kajsa had taken the kids with the Mosberg's to Fuddruckers, an establishment widely believed to be the slowest producers of fast food in all creation. Looking at his watch, he realised that there was no way he would have time to eat there. He ran to the nearest McDonalds, which was handily located across the road, rushed back and showered prior to finishing off the final packing before the others turned up.
He got out the showere just in time for Hans, Petra, Max and Hanna to see him in his towel - what a horrible last impression. Finally, about this time, Kajsa started to get tears in her eyes. She had done really well up to this time, but everyone knows how emotional Germans and Swedes are (only slightly more stiff upper-lipped than the Brits). Kajsa had been very close to total breakdown during the farwell in Kalle's class, but managed to hold on to a semblance of poise.
A short while later we were being bundled into the transport to the airport. Much to our surprise and dismay, rather than a nice car to ourselves, we were being stuffed in a minivan with other (foreign) plebs. Still, we were on our way and from there on in, with only one miniscule exception that necessitated the transport of Tim's Leatherman knife/toolkit in its own independent box for the Los Angeles-Sydney leg, it was event free.
About twenty or so hours later, with the loss of a day, we arrived back where it all started, in Sydney. We emerged into a bright summer morning with blinking eyes, and were greeted by Paul and Helena a short while after 9:00am on Monday 22 January 2000.
But what about Wolfgang's wheels? we hear you all ask. Well, we (okay, more accurately, Tim) remembered about them when we got to Australia. In the mean time, Jill or David had opened up the boot of the car that they had so generously loaned us and found it stuffed with five tyres, just the right size for a Volkswagen Passat.
The Aftermath