Faites Simple

My latest favourite place in SF

2009-11-12T05:48:00.002Z

Not the social security office. Not the school district office. Not even (even?) Ikea. No. It won't surprise you to know that it is a cook shop. Cooks Boulevard in Noe Valley. Full of lovely things with often mouthwatering prices - I won't be buying Le Creuset in the US. But I have bought two rather gorgeous knives from an American firm called Lamson & Goodnow of Massachusetts.

Cooks Boulevard also offers cookery classes and today between 3 and 5 pm, a rather lovely chocolate tasting. I will definitely return.

San Francisco Muni: the good, the bad and the just plain bloody mysterious

2009-11-12T04:17:00.003Z

I hate to whine. Really I do. I am generally a very positive person and look for the good in people and situations and for the solutions to any problem. But in the battle to buy a travelcard/translink pass for the Muni, I am beginning to feel defeated. I won't be of course - I shall soldier on.

Anyway to start with the good. I think it is excellent that the buses have bike racks on the front for passengers to use. I'll admit, I thought it was the driver's bike when I first saw this. But it wasn't - a very fit (and you'd have to be to tackle these hills) woman got off and grabbed her bike and set off at a fast lick up the hill. What an excellent idea.

I also like that the Muni is not crowded - at least not by Tube standards - and that people are friendly. Of course I am now of the opinion that it isn't crowded because no one can work out how to buy tickets but perhaps I'm becoming cynical. And any system which has only six exit turnstiles in a row at a major station and these exits are also the entrances, is clearly not experiencing high volume of passengers. Also why are the platforms so long when the trains are two to three carriages at most?

I'm still struggling with the whole exact change only in quarters or dollar coins or bills thing. Do Americans hoard large quantities of coin? I never ever have the right change and have to work out how to get some before I attempt any journey.

Also I still haven't found out where or how to buy a Translink card. Today I was handed a leaflet by a Bart worker but he couldn't say where you bought it. He thought I might get one in the information centre at the other end of the station. This was shut because of the Veterans Day holiday. So then I headed up to Walgreens which I suspected might sell them although they of course had absolutely no advertising or signs indicating this anywhere inside or outside the shop. I am beginning to think there is a conspiracy - that you have to meet a man in a deserted part of town wearing a false beard and uttering a password in order to obtain this mysterious travel pass. And the number of people who work for the Muni who have told me that the reason they don't know anything about it is that it is new. It's not new. They've been piloting this project in the Bay Area since 2002 - I looked it up.

Anyway, having finally met a man at Walgreens who told me he could sell me this pass, he then persuaded me that it might not be what I am looking for and that I ought to get a fast pass instead. That's the monthly travel card which today was definitely not on sale pretty much anywhere. I saw more signs telling me they weren't selling the fast pass than I could count.

So once more I changed some dollars into coins and travelled home. I will get some kind of a pass soon. I'm not sure what or how but I'm determined that I will conquer this system.

By which time there will no doubt be signs up on the Muni warning staff about the bewildered and scathing British woman who is regularly approaching them demanding a ticket.

So that was the weekend

2009-11-10T03:58:00.004Z

Weekends can be days of rest but not right now. Saturday morning saw me rise early to get to the San Francisco Unified School District Enrollment Fair which seemed like a good place to continue our search for a public school for the girls (that's public in the American sense, not the British). This is an annual event and I don't remember anything quite like it in the UK. A large arena was filled with stands for each school, at every level of education, and at each stand was the school's principal, possibly some teachers, possibly some parents. It was actually a really positive experience except for one thing - I'm currently looking for places for two children in the current academic year and most schools are full. Still I met lots of friendly parents, very helpful and interesting principals and some lovely teachers. And I did learn a lot and I hope to have the schools sorted soon. Watch this space.

Meanwhile, Tom took the girls to the Exploratorium which happened to be celebrating its 40th anniversary so was free. It's a hands-on science museum similar to Nemo which we visited in Amsterdam earlier this year, or Techniquest in Cardiff which we went to last year. As you can tell, we like this stuff and this was probably one of the best such museums we've visited. I got there late in the day and somewhat exhausted by the school fair, but spent long enough to get a flavour - it is full of hands-on exhibits, is huge and somehow because it is slightly less slick it feels more Professor Branestawmish and more fun.

Just outside is the Palace of Fine Arts which looked stunning on a glorious day. A mock (sorry America but what can I say) Greco-Roman temple with columns all done very well and on a grand scale in a lovely pinkish orange stone. I'm not sure why but it reminded me of Babar's city Celesteville - a combination of the architecture and the name. Again apologies if I seem not to be taking it seriously enough - actually I loved it. It was beautiful.

Saturday ended with the lease being signed in our new home. We met the landlady who is an artist and whose home it once was. I also met a neighbour. And the flat is growing on me and I already liked it. The stairs are a challenge but they will keep me fit. Along with the various hills around it.

Sunday involved a drive to Berkeley in the truck to swap it for a smaller more reasonably sized car - think small sedan or saloon. Then we went to Ikea. In retrospect we could have done this the other way around and had the truck to load purchases into. However we didn't and anyway, you can only push so many full trolleys. Ikea was a small or is that large piece of familiarity in the US. In fact if you didn't look out of the window and closed your ears to the different accent you could be in Neasden. Thankfully we weren't. We bought what seemed like lots of stuff of the necessary variety but which doesn't add up to much and still no furniture. So we have duvet covers but no duvets and indeed no beds. We have lamps for the sitting room but nowhere to sit. And so on. I have however discovered that should you be buying enough (and God knows we are) you can get someone called a Home Furnishings Consultant to purchase everything you want on your behalf (and obviously with your money) and then arrange delivery. So I am hoping that quite soon and certainly before the end of the month, we will have a fully Ikea furnished flat to live in. Then I can sit down, put my feet up and relax.

Exchanging views: a few pictures

2009-11-09T16:24:00.003Z

One of the last days in Wales, when we were packing our life up, the sun came through the clouds and the view from my kitchen window was like this.

I shall miss it. But I think I will miss it less than I might because our new apartment is near the top of one of those precipitate SF hills, and on the top floor. So the views are phenomenal. Here's a taste.

The apartment

2009-11-07T04:45:00.003Z

Oh sorry, did you want to know about the apartment?

In brief, it is in Noe Valley, on the top floor of a three story building up an inordinate number of stairs so the views are amazing. It has hardwood floors - de rigueur I gather for SF, lots of light, an eat-in kitchen which opens onto a deck, two reasonably sized bedrooms and a large sitting room. Oh and a shower room and a bathroom and very importantly the washer and dryer are in the flat.

It is a couple of blocks from the majority of the shops and the location of the weekly Farmers Market, one block from the tram (what do they call that thing - to me it's a tram), a few blocks from the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit which is more like Paris's RER than the London Underground) and five minutes to the freeway south for Tom. In other words, it is ideal. Now we just need a good school we don't have to drive across town to, and we're all set as they say here.

A big day

2009-11-07T04:22:00.002Z

Also a very very wet day. More like being in a cloud than being rained on. I was soaked especially as I only have a lightweight not very rainproof coat and no umbrella. And I met my first rude San Franciscan which is noteworthy as so many other people have proved so friendly and kind. This particular individual took it upon herself to comment on the outrageously wet state of me, at length as if I could do something about it.

Anyway, moving on. Much has been achieved today. I've booked the girls in for an appointment for a health check which is a necessary step towards enrolling them in school. This particular practice (no idea if that's the US term but I'm going with it) was recommended by the tour leader at the school we visited yesterday. We're paying a one-off fee as we haven't yet been accepted by the company's health insurance having only just applied and to be honest I want it done quick and with minimum hassle. I won't tell you how much but suffice to say for a Brit who's never paid before in her life for a doctor it's a lot but it probably isn't as much as it could be. I'm sure I could work the system in some more financially sensible way and possibly claim back retrospectively or something but frankly I'm tired, and not ready for this. The doctors' surgery was where I met another friendly San Franciscan who overheard me say I was from the UK and has offered to decipher the US healthcare system for me. I will almost certainly be taking her up on it - plus she was very nice and used to live in a nearby part of London to my neck of the woods. Got to start somewhere with the friend-making process!

After that, the girls and I had a peaceful coffee and cake in Martha & Bros on Church Street in Noe Valley (great coffee, lovely cakes) where we met our next lovely San Franciscan - and this may sound strange but was genuine, honest - who gave the girls two small soft toys he had spare. Sweet.

Meanwhile, Tom picked the short straw and got to visit the Social Security Office (quite quick today) after having picked up two rather fabulous new phones. As I said, we were using horse and cart phones so neither of us is really sure quite how fab these phones are - abnormally so or run of the mill, who can tell. We're a bit like medieval peasants presented with a Ferrari - we're in awe. And did I mention mine is pink? Subtly so, but still pink.

After that, he visited the property agent and was told we were accepted as tenants, so we have paid the deposit and first month's rent and are picking up the keys tomorrow! We did have our first hitch which is that the school which we were told on Tuesday had two places for the girls, now only has room for our seven-year-old. And we had really liked it and it was convenient for us. But no rush. We can wait and judging by the list of schools Tom got from the SFUSD available places change quickly so once we are settled, we should be able to move fast to get what we want.

Right now we have to think about furniture and crockery and cutlery and curtains and and and.

IKEA here we come.

Adjusting - different speeds

2009-11-06T16:44:00.004Z

I think it is going to take quite a while before I start thinking of San Francisco as home. I know I was still calling London home a year and a half after we moved to Wales. The children however are settling down very fast. Yesterday afternoon, after yet another admin headache moment, I exclaimed "I want to go home" and they answered in unison "You are home". We've been here six days. Later in the evening they started a game which involved paying tolls on the Golden Gate bridge which they've been over once, and the Bay Bridge which they haven't been on at all. Emilia is already talking about butts and trying out the word tomayto. At this rate I shall have two small Californians by Christmas.

Some things I like about here

2009-11-05T04:56:00.003Z

I know I've been complaining a bit lately so I don't want it to seem that I'm not enjoying things. Okay yesterday and the unsalubrious setting and the SS Office weren't enjoyable. But I suspect that much that is driving me nuts would do were I an American in London or some such equivalent. Although possibly not the ticket buying on public transport which is just plain bonkers. Anyway before I go off on another rant about the limitations of the MUNI system, here are some things I am liking.

1. The weather. Not a cloud in the sky. Really. Not a single cloud. Not a puffy white cotton ball anywhere to be seen. There were some today but that made a change from the dark and glorious blue sky we had the previous four days. I've worked out that the streets need cleaning here (you have to know when or your car gets towed) because it NEVER rains. Or not enough to rely on which in Wales is roughly once a day, sometimes once all day.
2. The people. So far everyone has been friendly and helpful. Including people you wouldn't expect to be, like security guards, bus drivers and tramps. Not that I'm casting aspersions on those three sections of the population but they are not as friendly where I come from.
3. The food. The supermarkets I've visited - and I will admit that they are the rather chi-chi end of the market - have been so full of plenty it has overwhelmed me. But much of what they have been full of is fresh food. And healthy food. If anything too healthy as it all has added vitamins, when I'd rather have plain. I just wish I wasn't so tired and overwhelmed by the other stuff that I could make the most of the cooking opportunities.
4. The recycling. Well I care about this stuff, so it is a big relief to know that so does SF to the point of collecting recyclables and food waste from your door. I know this is standard in much of the UK but it isn't here in the US so I came to the right place.
5. The views. This city is extraordinary. I knew there were hills but I didn't realise the place was peppered with knobbly hills which have been built on all over, creating precipitous roads. And you turn corners and there is all of the bay laid out before you. Stunning. I like big views. It was something I wasn't looking forward to forgoing when we left Wales and now I don't have to.
6. The MUNI. I know I criticise but at least they have one and it is pretty comprehensive in its coverage, clean and once you can get past the ticket barrier, easy to use (apart from Tom's one hour delay tonight). Still it's better than most places in the US so well done SF.

That'll do for now.

A quiet day in Twin Peaks and Noe Valley

2009-11-05T03:51:00.004Z

Tom was off to a conference to give a talk today, so the girls and I had a quiet day at home in the morning and pottering around Noe Valley (just down the hill) in the afternoon. It was lovely. It is probably top of the list of areas we are interested in to live, and nothing put me off. We found cool bookshops, coffee shops, an English tea room (Lovejoys), a store devoted to refills of soap products, some strange pet-related shops and an enormous Whole Foods - yet another supermarket to create confusion in my brain. The houses are very pretty - coloured with steps and plants in pots, and interesting moulding. I suppose it was a mixture of Hampstead and Stoke Newington - funkier than Hampstead, posher and less challenging than parts of Stokie. (To the non-Londoners amongst you - sorry!)

We also went on the bus. They have a machine to feed your dollar bills into. Exact change only please. That's the downside. I mean seriously no bus driver and no passengers in the UK would be tolerant of people laboriously feeding notes into a machine. The upside however was the effortlessly charming bus driver (take note London!) who suggested that my older daughter was "too cute" to pay for her ticket and then sang - yes sang - every bus stop name as we approached, as well as exchanging pleasantries with passengers as they got off.

Other things achieved today - a phone call home using Skype to landline which cost 40 cents for 30 minutes! A call to a school to check we could tour. A call to a rental agency to arrange a viewing of an apartment. And a general relax for three of us which I think has done us all good. Back to appointments and meetings and so on tomorrow. And Tom - oh lucky man - gets to visit the Social Security Office again but on his own. We have other plans - don't know what yet, but definitely other plans.

Today - the scary stuff

2009-11-04T03:51:00.003Z

And I don't just meant the coffee shop we stopped in on what turned out to be a seedy section of Market Street. Actually it was fine, but let's just say that we wouldn't want to live round there.

Anyway, to begin at the beginning. We had "business" to do today which meant the day was incredibly dull for the girls and very stressful for us. We still haven't solved the phone business and as my old one doesn't work in the States, we are doing everything together.

First stop was the MUNI. I'm still uncertain whether locals say "Mewni" as in cats or "Mooni" as in cows. Either way this proved to be the day's first challenge. Please, any SF locals reading this don't take it the wrong way. I'm sure you are way ahead of the rest of the States in terms of public transport, but well, your ticket purchasing systems have left quite a lot of room for improvement. We were using the "underground" or "light rail" system into downtown. You put quarters or dollar coins into the slot on the actual gate. The office at the station doesn't give you change or the ticket. And there's a machine to "make change" but it only takes 1 dollar and 5 dollar bills. So there we were with 20 dollar bills unable to buy tickets.

There are other ways to get tickets. You can get a monthly pass. When they say monthly, they mean calendar month. You can only purchase them online at certain times of the month as they start on the 1st for everyone. Buying one on any day and having it expire one month to the day later is a concept which hasn't reached the MUNI. No comment.

You can also apparently buy an electronic card similar to the Oyster of London. I heard about this from the nice man at my bank in Burlingame. You won't get any information from a MUNI station because they don't carry any. And naturally they can't sell any to you. It's also not entirely clear how much of the MUNI transit system it covers yet but as a fan of Oyster (apparently Hong Kong has the Octopus which is the same) it is what I want. We shall see if I ever manage to get one.

Anyway, once we'd made an unnecessary purchase in order to get enough small change, we got our tickets and got on the clean, quick and relatively empty train into town.

n.b. On the way home, we had to get change again and this time there was no machine to change 1 and 5 dollar bills. You have to use the BART machine to do it. There's no sign that I could see telling you this, you just have to know...

First stop was the San Francisco Unified School District. They were very helpful and it turns out we came in the right week as it was quiet and we could see someone straightaway. Next week will be manic. She was also able to give us a list of schools with slots for both our girls. I won't go into which or where or whatever. Suffice to say, it isn't long and includes lots of schools we aren't interested in and few that we are. We shall see. At least we know now and can visit accordingly.

Next stop was the Social Security Office so we walked down Market Street. Not nice at this particular spot. And we couldn't find the office until a very nice man helped us out. We keep meeting very nice and helpful friendly people. He was lovely. So was the security guard at the SSO who tipped us off that 4pm was the quickest time to visit. We left after a long wait and no luck and two increasingly difficult children. Social Security Offices are never pleasant places to be. It's been a while since I had to go to one in the UK - it is hard to watch unfortunate and desperate people not getting what they want and not getting it slowly.

That almost wrapped up the day apart from a stop in the Verizon wireless shop to discuss yet another phone option. They don't want my first born but the deposit is still substantial. They were also thoroughly pleasant, helpful and friendly.

And then homeward after a brief lunch and a visit to Borders in Union Square which though only a few blocks from Market Street and 7th and 5th, is a completely different world. All designer labels and smart hotels.

We walked a lot today. More than most people would have but we were being resolutely British about it. Now my feet ache.

No history and its consequences

2009-11-03T15:24:00.003Z

Forget 1066, the Armada and the British Empire, Tom and I are new untarnished babies when it comes to financial services. And our first encounter with this has been through the phone companies.

Having had the most basic of pay as you go phones in the UK - the horse and cart of the phone world, if you will - we have decided to upgrade in a major way to the private jets that are the iPhone or the Google Android. The decision is still to be made as to which but if in the next few moments you can imagine Tom as Einstein but with better hair, and me as Victoria Beckham but with natural tits and very bad hair, you will get the picture.

Tom: "open platform blah blah applications blah blah developers blah blah interface blah blah gobbledegeek"
Me: "but the iPhone is really pretty"

Oddly I haven't won the argument yet but this may be because Tom is somehow managing to appeal to my inner geek which after over ten years with him is surprisingly well-developed.

Anyway we have been visiting phone shops and as we are new and untarnished babes in the financial world, the options are somewhat different and usurious.

Shop 1 was friendly enough - home of the pretty phone. Yes we could have a contract but as we have no history they would require that we deposit our last born child with them for a year in order to prove our reliability. (I exaggerate slightly but it was $500 dollars per person.)

Shop 2 wouldn't offer us a contract but could offer us the geek phone. However the cost of the geek phone without a contract would rise from a small nugget of gold to the weight of my husband in bullion.

We haven't visited Shop 3 yet, soon to be offering the geek phone, but if it turns out the shop assistant will only give us a contract in exchange for the hand of my first born in marriage, then you're all invited to the wedding.

Ordeal by washing machine

2009-11-03T02:54:00.004Z

Everything, absolutely everything, seems to be extremely taxing at the moment. I can't decide if I'm tired because I'm still jetlagged or because everyday actions seem to involve major challenges to my sorry brain.

Today we needed to do some laundry. So we confronted the behemoth in the garage. A classic American toploader with minimal programmes and no instructions. How hard could it be? Well it turned out very hard. We could not get it to turn on. We pushed and pulled its knob, we turned it and turned it and still nothing. Tom briefly got it to work when he moved its plug to another socket so we thought it might be the plug which was dodgy. At this point I started to fiddle with the plug and discovered that American wiring leaves something to be desired. Bang! and my left arm was tingling for the next fifteen minutes. Of course when we worked out how to get the beast to work, there was nothing wrong with the plug - it's just that it has a circular dial but only uses half the circle. If you point the start arrow at the bottom half of the circle, nothing happens.

Next stop would have been the tumble dryer but all our clothes say don't. So we haven't. We've hung it up in the garage on a line, which makes me feel virtuous and green once more, but also dubious that it will actually dry. At least this way I can't get electrocuted again.

The journey: part two

2009-11-02T04:06:00.004Z

A huge plus as a result of the closure of the Bay Bridge is that our arrival in San Francisco was via Marin county and the Golden Gate Bridge. Somehow it seems terribly appropriate to drive into SF on that bridge and it utterly lived up to expectations. Today was a glorious sunny day with not a cloud in the sky. This may happen a lot round here and doubtless I will get bored by the good weather but right now, WOW! Not a cloud in the sky and it is a very big sky.

How utterly fabulous is this? Oh all right, the picture is rubbish but you get the idea.

Oh and an afterthought. A picture of our lives packed in the back of the truck.

That's it. There is an awful lot of shopping to be done in the next few weeks. Let's hope chair choices aren't as difficult as mayonnaise or orange juice.

My first weekend in California

2009-11-02T03:33:00.003Z

Halloween was clearly a good date to pick to arrive. The children were thrilled by the pumpkins everywhere and had an opportunity to dress up - Welsh National costume which was mistaken for a leprechaun (?) by one householder. Emilia went trick or treating - just her and two dads - on what I'm reliably informed is the best trick or treating street in the whole of Berkeley. This street is so well known for its bounteous generosity, amazing decorations and general all round enthusiasm for Halloween that if you sell your house there you have to declare that people will expect the new owners to be equally bounteous, decorative and enthusiastic. She came back laden with candy. Lottie meanwhile had passed out and missed everything. She did wake up in time however to eat dessert before passing out again.

Other activities undertaken by the extremely tired adults included visiting a phone store to find out about mobile phones and landlines, eating brunch in a cafe with very large chairs with mouldings for very large bottoms on the seat, desperately seeking a "rest room" for my youngest and ending up in McDonalds (oh the shame!) but only to use the loo, eating vast quantities of sushi, hiring a car and shopping at a supermarket.

Hiring the car was funny. We wanted something small but all they had was an SUV and pick-up trucks. So we took a truck, which meant we could transport all our luggage to SF later this afternoon. Yes, within two days of arriving in the US of A, Tom is driving a truck.

We took the truck shopping to Safeways and had our first taste of an American supermarket. Do not attempt this when suffering from jetlag. You may think you know what everything is, but you don't and we were both extremely confused by the end of it. I suspect shopping for groceries is going to feature regularly in this blog for the next few months. I had a "revelatory moment" at the mayonnaise section when I realised they didn't sell Hellmans and I had no idea which the best tasting brand was - did this mean I would have to buy each one in turn until I found the right one? And how could "Miracle Whip" possibly be that one? How did buying mayonnaise suddenly become complicated. Every section was like this. The orange juice options have doubled if not trebled so you can have no pulp, low pulp, medium pulp and high pulp, with and without calcium and various other vitamins. I think I ended up with one with added calcium because I couldn't remember if orange juice had calcium in it normally or not, and if it did then I ought to get the one with rather than without. Or something. I told you I was tired. And of course the quantities beggar belief. It is hard to buy less than a gallon of milk. For the metric amongst you, that's nearly 4 litres in one go, or in fact enough to keep a small European car on the road for tens of miles. But not the truck, obviously.

We left the store with not very much having exhausted ourselves with the simple decisions of what bread to get and which tuna to buy. Tom went for a brand called "Chicken of the Sea"?? He's not sure why, but I'm glad he did, as it's such a superbly odd name.

The journey: part one

2009-11-02T03:07:00.004Z

I finally feel awake and alive enough to write about our journey here which was long, not fortunately hugely eventful and very very tiring.

So on Friday morning at 6 am we woke and got ready for the drive to Heathrow. Goodbyes were quick and minimal at that hour which I think probably suited me and my mother. Best not to dwell on the distance we were travelling or for how long. We had an easy ride to the airport - Terminal 5 which was handsome enough but mostly filled with lots of opportunities to buy the same designer stuff over and over again. I did splurge on some expensive moisturiser and endured the snooty assistant's horrified gaze at my un-made-up cold-filled up-since-six face as she said in hopeless tones "are you sure there isn't anything I else I can do for you (unsaid addendum "because you need all the help you can get")?". I'm always amazed by how put together some people are at airports. There was an unbelievably ritzy couple checking baggage in just ahead of us. All designer bling bags, highlights, plucked and shaped eyebrows, and that was just the man. I am not like this. Not when flying or indeed ever.

So then we got the plane - four seats together in the middle so no chance of a view either side. Seats were fine but the whole experience was like being put into a large box, shaken about for hours and discharged exhausted at the other end. No sense of a journey or the earth passing beneath. The girls were fine. They are good and quiet and quite static so didn't jump about or shout. Neighbours were probably grateful.

US Immigration was also fine. But God did it take a long time. There were several flights arriving at once. We had two small and by this time completely exhausted children and had to stand in a queue for at least an hour. By the time we had cleared somehow everybody else had vanished and the immigration staff were going off shift. We were the last to leave the building. Not that there was a problem - it just took a very long time. Once through customs we were met by Tom's very charming boss. We've been staying with him and his family for the last two nights in Berkeley. Before that could begin though, we had to get there and forces were against us as the Bay Bridge is closed after a couple of tonnes of metal landed on the freeway (no one seriously hurt). So that was another three hours, though by this stage we were such basketcases that we didn't really notice.

Since then we've been doing battle with jetlag. If we didn't have children we'd be fine but just as we think we're doing all right, one of them (okay Lottie) wakes up at 3 and requires attention and that's it, you're thrown all over again.

to be continued...

Goodbyes

2009-10-26T18:12:00.003Z

As of this morning, I am homeless and in transit. Many goodbyes have been said over the last few days, several rather tearful and mostly involving my tears. I hate saying goodbye and I think in some ways I have only just come to realize what good friends we had made and how settled we had become in Wales. There is doubtless some cliché about only knowing what you've got when it's gone, or is that a Joni Mitchell song? Anyway our Welsh adventure isn't over - we will come back.

Also I am very grateful. Grateful to our friends and family who looked after the girls while we packed, moved and cleaned, and who fed and watered us at the end of frustrating days, to friends who took lots of stuff, to the friends who brought Bollinger to our party which we saved for our last evening and went down very well.

Memorable moments of the last week or so were in no particular order:

Being given a little book of autographs collected by school friends of the girls, a handmade card delivered by a tearful mum, and a calendar with pictures of our home in Wales from our wonderful landlords.

The girls' parents' evenings - they are apparently quiet, bright and lovely and it's not just me saying that.

Almost divorcing halfway down the stone steps carrying a very large kitchen cupboard.

Arriving outside the storage facility the second time in a day to find it shut. Then the owner driving down specially to let us in.

Seeing a red kite hovering over the Brecon Recycling centre as I sorted yet more unwanted shoes.

Delicious sausages from a pig I met once, and goodbye hugs from all of the lovely pig-owning family.

Finishing up the house before we left and discovering some plates were still in the dishwasher.

The drive to Brecon and back this morning. Wales put on a stunning autumnal show of blue skies, dark mountains and leaves in every shade of gold, red and orange.

Not being able to fit all the suitcases in the car with all of the family. Two travelled by train. We think we can get to the airport all right and apparently we don't have too much for our flight but we definitely have too much for our car.

Realizing I'd left my laptop at my cousin's house. And I shall leave it at that. I need a drink.

BT - does anyone have a good experience of them these days?

2009-10-19T13:10:00.003+01:00

Bloody bloody BT. I phoned up this morning to book the cancellation of our phone for next Monday. All seemed to go well, I was assured that it would finish next Monday morning, on the 26th October. And then I found I couldn't make any outgoing calls. So I rang them and it turns out they've already cut us off. Apparently this happens in stages so I can't make or receive calls but hopefully I can complain about them virulently on my blog, twitter and any other site I can think of!

Oh, I tried to get the order cancelled/changed to next Monday but apparently once they start something, like an unstoppable juggernaut, they can't stop. So the only way to get a phone line back would be to put a new order for a new line in, possibly taking 3 working days, and best of all, a different phone number. My language wasn't pleasant. Tom's also stretched itself to the limits of politeness. We've decided there's not much point in waiting three days to have a line for a further two. So it's down to mobiles and hot desking at the neighbours for the rest of the week.

Those of you who have read the blog for a while will know the problems we had when we moved in. Which leads me to ask does anyone in Britain have a good experience with British Telecom or are they just uniformly useless? Really, I'd like to know.

Banking - and how I feel a bit smug

2009-10-16T21:57:00.003+01:00

One of the things that Tom and I have been stressing about is how to access our money once we're in the US. I've heard horror stories of people waiting six months before they can open an account, and I suspected that we might have to jump through some tricky hoops - like needing a Social Security Number, an address, some utility bills - before an account was ours, and some of this is a bit chicken and egg. How do you rent a house if you can't pay your deposit because you haven't got access to a bank account, etc.

And then, while carrying out my usual displacement activity avoiding packing, I checked what banks actually exist in California and I recognised one of the names on the list. HSBC. I don't or at least I didn't bank with them. But I did vaguely recall an advert about a family giving up fish for a lizard or something and the slogan "the world's local bank". Well, not that this is meant to be an endorsement of a bank (heaven forbid!), but they have been efficient and organized and we now have a British bank account with them, and rather more usefully, an American bank account. Two weeks before we get there. No cards have appeared yet, but I have enough information to transfer funds. So my tip if you're moving from the UK to pretty much anywhere - check if HSBC has branches there. They may be able to help.

A big thank you to Hannah in Abergavenny and Erica in the US office. This is one less thing to worry about (oh no I'm starting to sound like an advert...).

I've never seen so many golf clubs

2009-10-16T20:20:00.004+01:00

Today was day one of the move and our first destination after we'd collected the unfeasibly long transit van, was the dump in Brecon. Or rather the recycling facility. And I really really wish I'd taken my camera. It was completely fascinating. There were sections for every conceivable type of rubbish - soil, cardboard, rubble, bottles, plastic bottles, yoghurt pots, computers and televisions, paper, and shredded paper. And then there was the shop. I assume they were selling stuff though clearly not for a lot. In this section you could pick up a whole house worth's of furniture, a hairdresser's worth of mirrors and a golf tournament's worth of clubs. We left lots of things that probably won't be sold on. And lots of old computer equipment which might be eventually. Who knows.

I could have spent all day there but sadly my destiny was elsewhere. Specifically I seem to have spent a lot of time in our lane shouting very very loudly and aggressively at Tom. Which if you know Tom will be a surprise. My excuse is that he was manoeuvring the tank-like van into our drive way and out again which is not easy and has been known to defeat real-life van drivers. We then loaded it with what seemed like a lot of stuff, drove very slowly round lots of roundabouts waiting for the sound of crashes from the back and then unloaded it into the container, at which point we realised it wasn't that much stuff in the first place.

This evening, after collecting two very tired and partied out girls, we ate fish and chips, drank beer and I will be heading to bed very soon. Tom is still doing battle with some tax forms, more fool him!

Woman with a van

2009-10-15T21:18:00.003+01:00

Tomorrow is our first day of moving. We've had lots of other people taking stuff - mostly lightweight - but tomorrow Tom and I are hoping to shift a lot into our storage container. I haven't done this kind of moving for nearly ten years and I seem to remember that last time it nearly killed me, so it would be fair to say that I'm not entirely looking forward to this. Why are we subjecting ourselves to this ordeal? Well, it just seems to make sense this time to ensure that we are putting stuff in storage we want, that we're getting rid of our rubbish and I suppose we just about have the time to do it though the last part is feeling less and less like the case. Plus I think I may actually be better at packing and sorting than was my last removals company.

Meanwhile, we're in that odd limbo where we're almost out of here, but still carrying on with the daily routine. So Brownies, swimming lessons and this morning, a school assembly, have all been on the agenda. The assembly was lovely, and my shy and quiet daughter read her own poem out nice and loud which is more than I would have managed at her age. I also answered a question (yes, the headmaster made sure that parents had been listening by asking questions!) on Henry VIII (how many wives?) which was a little easy for me as I specialized in the 16th century at university, but I wasn't telling. Still can't resist being a class swot!

Free stuff: the pleasure in giving

2009-10-12T21:50:00.003+01:00

I'm rather enjoying getting rid of our stuff. We've sold some things - books, a bike or two of the girls - but mostly at the moment we're giving things away (note to W. but not that particular painting). A lot is going to friends and family and it's lovely to think of our stuff finding homes all over the Usk valley and beyond. People have been leaving our barn with car loads. The funniest was probably a friend who spent the entire time she loaded the car with our stuff, telling me how she really must start clearing out her house. And then there was the husband or two who clearly hadn't been included in the decision-making process and found lots more stuff had appeared when they got home from work. While I know giving does wonderful things to your mood and soul and what have you, mainly I'm just glad to see space appearing in the house. People are being told they can do what they want with our former stuff, as long as it doesn't come back to us (apart from that painting, W. ...).

Life, don't talk to me about life...

2009-10-06T11:15:00.004+01:00

Actually I'm not as miserable as Marvin (paranoid android, brain size of a planet etc.) but I am exhausted. So far today, I've dragged myself out of bed (briefly horrified by the bags under my eyes), shouted at children who were squabbling over knickers, and headed off in the rain to Cwmbran and a self-storage facility.

We are now the proud renters of a container and will be attempting to fit our belongings into it in the next couple of weeks. Self-storage sites aren't particularly interesting or cheerful and nor was the girl at the reception desk. I'm not sure what I was expecting. You can't see anything, just row after row of dull looking container. But they are lined and raised off the ground and it looks all right. Frankly, I am getting to the stage where I'm past caring.

Meanwhile, we were surprised at how much the garage has offered for our car. Not a huge amount but much more than I thought it would be worth. My advice to those looking to retain value in their car is not to drive it. I think our low mileage helped a lot. Of course that does rather defeat the purpose of having the car but still.

And we're mid panic because we have prospective tenants coming to visit the house on Friday. The place is all disorder and underneath the disorder, dust and dirt. I am trying to be philosophical and my lovely landlords have said not to get in a tizz about it, but I can't really help it. It is rather kick-starting me into action to rid the house of huge quantities of clutter. Yesterday, I chucked about 8 bags of unwanted clothing into the clothes bank at the car park, as well as offloading loads of mixing bowls, a filing cabinet, some vases and some baskets to a friend. I have two forms of freecycle going at the moment - a private group of friends, now known as the gannets in this house (don't take offence if you're reading this! it is meant affectionately) and the real freecycle who are getting anything the gannets haven't had first.

We have also sold a load of books to the local second-hand bookshop and are hoping to get some other furniture taken away very soon. By the time we're ready to leave, we'll be taking it in turns to sit on one chair in the middle of an empty house, eating chinese takeaway!

Following in footsteps

2009-10-02T20:56:00.004+01:00

When I'm not packing boxes, donating objects to friends or shredding long out of date documents I have time to think about the forthcoming move. People ask if I'm excited and I am but I'm also a bit overwhelmed. San Francisco is a very long way from home. And family and friends.

But I remind myself that it's a lot closer than it used to be. I come from a family of travellers. For generations they have been leaving their homes to spend some time in far flung corners of the world. My great-grandmother was born in France and moved to London when she married, leaving her family in Havre. Reading her diaries I am struck at how she treated the Channel like a river to cross, which she did sometimes several times a year (this in the early years of the 20th century). She went to America, Africa and India in her life, all by ship on long slow journeys but as far as I can judge she was entirely undaunted by this. She communicated by letter and wire.

My grandfather spent the 1930s in India, leaving everyone he knew to go to Calcutta for work. The journey took 6 weeks by ship, so letters were slow to come and you can't say much in a telegram.

My mother went to live in Germany with my father during the mid-1960s. And though you could fly by then and telephone, you still had to go through the international operator to make a call. Her relatives congratulated her on my birth there by letter.

So now here we are with Skype, and chat, and blogs, and Twitter and Facebook. People respond so fast, Tom can watch Emilia blow her candles out from California to Hampshire. It takes 10 and a half hours to fly to San Francisco, not several weeks by ship. It is a long way but I will be able to call my mother and what is more see her. Who thought that would happen? How very Star Trek (and I mean the Shatner/Nimoy version).

Editing my life - and my cookery books

2009-09-24T13:08:00.004+01:00

What are the essentials of your life? In terms of things that is. Objects you absolutely need to have with you. Actually that's an exaggeration as I'm not planning some survival experience a la Bear Grylls in San Francisco. In fact in some ways life should be a little more civilized than here in rural Wales where manure, chicken poo and wellies feature regularly.

The thing is that we're not shipping anything. We're taking suitcases and arriving and making our new home from scratch or in fact Ikea which rather handily also exists on the other side of the Atlantic. But I can't bear not having any cookery books with me. Partly because they are my favourite books and partly because I know the American ones will be all cups and therefore a bugger to use.

Anyway I've managed to edit my collection - 70 books and rising - to three. It was ten but they were all huge and heavy. So now it's three and only one is huge and heavy. The winners in the competition for which cookery books get to cross the Atlantic are in no particular order:

Elizabeth David's French Provincial Cookery - because you have to have one David and this is the best and most used and wonderful to read. Oh and smallish in paperback.

Darina Allen's Ballymaloe Cookery Course - not because it is my favourite. It is great but I use others more. But it's comprehensive and educational so should come up with something most days.

and

Edouard de Pomiane's Cooking in Ten Minutes - because it is new to me, tiny, funny and my uncle who is reigning champion cook in our family of cooks loves it.

Sorry to all the other entrants. I shall miss you and will no doubt buy lots of future companions.

Meanwhile back at the barn

2009-09-23T12:15:00.003+01:00

I'll admit I haven't been paying a lot of attention to what's going on outside lately. Almost forgotten we have chickens sometimes. And as for plants. Well there's only so much time in the day.

However, the horses are back and the neighbours are away so opening and shutting the chicken house now involves navigating your way past two large friendly stallions. This is not something I am used to. Nor Tom. Nor indeed the chickens who emerged one morning saying "where the hell have you been, why have we been cooped up so long," and then caught sight of long legs in front of the house and promptly remembered something that urgently needing doing back inside the hen house. I think they are coming to some kind of uneasy relationship and Tom has overcome any horse phobia he may have had and this week is in charge of the chickens. In fact he said it's rather better to go out there himself than with me squawking whenever a horse comes up behind me. So much for country living!