The whole family was invited to a party last night. Our Evite read 'It's that time of year again! It's time to nail cheeses to the cross. Cheeses welcomed. Hammer and nails provided.' And so they were, on the kitchen island, along with a wooden cross made of two-by-fours, all narrowly overseen by a tiny molded-plastic dashboard-style Jesus. Guests did their own hammering.
An evening of wine, women and whiskey ensued. (Some delightful men and children attended too, including my own, but they don't alliterate.) The whole thing was a blast and bordered on the sacrilegious--very much outside my experience, so far, of Canadian social gatherings. I loved it.
Sunday, 31 March 2013
Friday, 8 March 2013
Leaving Eden
In five months, at the end of July, we will have been in Toronto for three full years. It is scarcely credible; I still feel like such a newcomer. What looms now, and why that three year mark is critical, is that we will shortly be kicked out of our residential playpen, aka 'New Faculty Housing', and have to make our own way in the big bad world of real estate. We will have to get our own house, our own account with 'Toronto Hydro' (electricity company), heating company (not sure what that one is called), and whatever else is required of home-owners.
Yes, we hope to be home-owners. It may be a stupid hope, because the real estate market here is in what people keep describing as a bubble, and it may be a vain hope, because we have no idea how much we have to spend. Our finances are in dire disarray and we are only starting to come to grips with the Canadian way of assessing and issuing mortgages. So far, it has not gone well. We contacted our bank to find out how much they would give us. An email from Our Man at the Teller's Window (let's call him Michael) pointed out, politely, that they issue mortgages up into multiple millions, and asked precisely how much we are requesting. There is some failure to communicate here, as this does not make sense to me. If Michael will lend us more money, we'll buy a better house. Isn't it up to him to calculate how much he is willing to risk on us? That's how it worked in England. I assume at some point, after circling each other a while longer, each of us will realize what assumptions the other is making that are not, at present, shared, and an actual amount will be mooted. Then we can go shopping.
Until then, I'm dreaming of Casa Loma, 'Canada's Only Castle,' just a couple of kilometers from our playpen. Michael, what about those multi-million dollar loans?
But I do wonder about the heating bills....
Yes, we hope to be home-owners. It may be a stupid hope, because the real estate market here is in what people keep describing as a bubble, and it may be a vain hope, because we have no idea how much we have to spend. Our finances are in dire disarray and we are only starting to come to grips with the Canadian way of assessing and issuing mortgages. So far, it has not gone well. We contacted our bank to find out how much they would give us. An email from Our Man at the Teller's Window (let's call him Michael) pointed out, politely, that they issue mortgages up into multiple millions, and asked precisely how much we are requesting. There is some failure to communicate here, as this does not make sense to me. If Michael will lend us more money, we'll buy a better house. Isn't it up to him to calculate how much he is willing to risk on us? That's how it worked in England. I assume at some point, after circling each other a while longer, each of us will realize what assumptions the other is making that are not, at present, shared, and an actual amount will be mooted. Then we can go shopping.
Until then, I'm dreaming of Casa Loma, 'Canada's Only Castle,' just a couple of kilometers from our playpen. Michael, what about those multi-million dollar loans?
But I do wonder about the heating bills....
Spin
I just learned that what in the UK we called a 'gap year', a year off between school and university, in Canada is called a 'victory lap'. Love it.
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