Our friend Steve is Canadian. He lives nearly two hours away and we only see him at the racetrack. You would never know as Kevin and he talk for hours on the telephone. I don't know how many times I've heard Kevin say "I wish we lived closer, we'd be such good friends." (or my favorite: "I couldn't get a word in edgewise!" Yeah, it was all Steve, Kevin.)
Anyway, I'm off topic, big surprise.
Miguel and Mario came down to hang with the boys a few weeks ago. They live just across the border, only about an hour away. I love having them here. I hate that it's so rare that we see them at our house.
Crossing the border is easier these days with our enhanced driver's licenses but it is still a hassle. Because border wait times vary wildly and while you can attempt to plan, you can still end up sitting for up to an hour. If you get a woman border guard, holy hell, it takes even longer. (I'm not being sexist, this is common knowledge from most anyone who regularly crosses the border) It's actually easier to travel to Seattle, which is further & has worse traffic, than it is to travel 45 minutes north.
It's just so frustrating that we have all these friends that live so far away & are separated by what Steve calls an aribitrary line in sand.. And this isn't counting our friends that live in Dawson Creek. (no, not in tv-land, the actual Dawson Creek :-)
On the flip side, we have wondered if perhaps the distance is why we enjoy our friends so much. When time spent together is special and infrequent, there is no time for pettyness, annoyances, or idiosyncrasies to arise.
1 comment:
The border patrol anywhere sucks. I don't know about anyplace else, but we have border patrol stations miles in from the border as a second line defensive to catch anyone. Usually you can just whiz through, but I hate waiting.
And distance does make the heart grow fonder...
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