Monthly Archives: November 2002


I have a raging cold, so I slept in. Bill and I will be having a very late dinner. Do we care? Do newlyweds care about anything outside their tiny circle of bliss? Nah.

I'm making a small, traditional dinner, just for the two of us. I haven't roasted a turkey in years, but I found it all coming back to me as I put together stuffing and prepped the bird for its long, hot afternoon. In the stuffing this year (it's always a little different):

  • Good bread with lots of grains and nuts and stuff

  • Green and yellow peppers
  • Mushrooms
  • Celery
  • Chipotle chilis
  • Garlic
  • Oregano, basil, and paprika

It looked perfect going in, though having a cold is hard on someone who cooks by smell. Later, I'll fix a condiment plate with pickles, olives, and stuffed celery, my famous (or infamous, if you have high cholesterol) mashed potatoes with sauteed things, and some ambrosia. Er, except we forgot to get fruit cocktail.

Um, hubby? Could you make a quick trip to the store?


Immigration is complicated.

After several weeks of trying to figure things out by surfing the web and calling people who should know, Bill and I gave up and hired a nice lawyer. I know she's nice because her receptionist has a nose ring.

She walked us through the necessaries. We found it was going to cost us a lot of money, but save us a lot of grief. But there was one question we didn't get a great answer to: when could Bill come home?

Here's the thing: Legally, as long as Bill is returning to Australia, he can come home any time. Fine, we said, he'll go back for the medical exam, the other visa stuff, and to see his (hi Judith and Barry!) parents some more. But will that be enough? Well, not really. You see, the security folks at the airport are trained to send you right back home if they suspect you have "immigrant intentions", and may squat in the US. So, if you say you're visiting your wife...back on the plane with you. No, it doesn't make sense. I've since learned from friends who've been through it that US Immigration is notoriously capricious.

We tried to waterproof his arrival--he has a round-trip ticket, and several stamps in his passport that show he's come and gone in good faith. We knew they probably would just wave him through--but the alternative was horrible to contemplate. As the time got nearer, we both became more and more nervous. I've been a mess for a week.

Tonight was the big night. He flew out of Sydney this morning, and was to pass immigration in Honolulu. I just got a call--Bill is coming home.

He'll be bored for a while as he can't work until the visa is processed, but who cares...he'll be here. I cannot express how relieved I am. I think I'll get some sleep.

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"This is another slap in the face at every Atheist, Freethinker, Humanist or anyone else who does not believe in religion," said Ellen Johnson, President of American Atheists. "How 'welcome' and "consumer friendly' is the United States Postal Service being when it sends a message promoting sectarian religion?"

"A postal office is a government facility, and it should be neutral and avoid proselytizing its customers, as well as those who work there."


So what's been happening while I've been gone? In a word: nesting. I'll finish up the Australia stuff later. Right now, it's Kittybabble.

My whole life is changing. And not only for the reasons you're probably assuming. Bottom line: I've been well. Those who know me know that I've long suffered from depression. I still do; my particular diagnosis isn't something that goes away. I've been very stable for several years, but recently had a breakthrough that made me not just stable, but well. Energetic, happy, yadda. If you wanna know more about that, ask me in the comments. I may write about it later.


So I've had all this energy, and I find I'm returning to a state that's very natural and wonderful: a State of Martha. I'm enjoying getting more organized, and doing things for my home. I'm even cooking (tonight: chili-roasted cod drizzled with lime-cumin sauce, and a side of orange sweet potatoes).

How bad is it? Friday night I was walking home with a few dollars in my pocket, thinking of treating myself to a DVD. Then I would be a much better treat to walk down to Cameron's and get a stack of used Martha Stewart Magazines. And that's what I did. And yes, I'm enjoying them.

I'm not about to turn into a materialistic buybot who wants the matched set of heart-shaped cookie cutters; but, matte a picture with ribbon? You bet.