Herbert

When I was a kid, my Dad was the pastor of a little church in the middle of nowhere (well, I probably shouldn't exaggerate... it wasn't quite in the middle; maybe a bit to the southeast). Every week, the Sunday morning service included a sampling of the local "talent" as one element of the program. And the Reader family was, of course, part of the rotation. One performance that my Mom came up with featured the Reader boy trio accompanied by big sister on piano. And the lucky audience that week was treated to our rendition of a song entitled "Herbert the Snail". (Note: here's where the quotes around "talent" come in; a number of people that would perform had real talent... others relied on red hair, freckles, and coke-bottle glasses to compensate.) Anyhow, the song's refrain starts "Have patience, have patience, don't be in such a hurry!" and here's the point (at last!): In the 30ish years since I was standing with my brothers singing that song, I'm still pretty far away from having enough of that virtue. The wait for our visas is killing me!

We arrived home from our Easter travels to discover that we had just missed a call from the New Zealand High Commission. The next morning, I was able to reach the fellow reviewing our case and had a good chat with him.  Unfortunately, although Sheri's doctor felt there were no problems, her spleen abnormality is sufficient to require her case be reviewed by New Zealand immigration; and that would require another 3-6 week delay. He did say, however, that he could approve her for a 12 month stay (as opposed to the 14 months we had requested) without that review if we were determined to leave before the middle of May. And, since we are, I asked him to go ahead on that tack. No problem, he said, our visas should then be issued within a week. That was 10 days ago...

I called again yesterday and was told that there's no problem, everything is proceeding fine and we should have our visas by the end of next week. Trying desperately to remain calm and unworried, I gave a nervous (read: panicked) chuckle and told him that we have booked our flights and are now scheduled to leave by the end of the month (April 30th to be exact). Now, you and I both know that the end of next week is comfortably a full business day before the end of the month... but when a guy has no job and endeavours to move his family to the other side of his terrestrial sphere of choice, a bit of comfort zone is, may I say, greatly to be desired. Some of my dismay must have been conveyed either by the laugh or the temporal obtuseness of my observation as the commissioner, who is my current best friend, took pity on me and suggested that he should have everything wrapped up by Monday or Tuesday. He said he would give me a call when that happened. Relief! Fortunately for him, he wasn't standing next to me or I might have hugged him.

So, potentially only a few more days to wait. Let's see if I can rustle up enough patience for that. (I made it this far without a Simpsons quote... but I can't resist: Marge: Your meatloaf will be ready in eight seconds, Homer. Homer: D'oh! Isn't there anything faster than a microwave?)

p.s. A new morning ritual: