There are two phrases you don't really want to wake up to on the first day of a four-day holiday week-end:
1) "The toilet's blocked again"; and
2) "Mummy, I don't know how it happened, but I seem to have a purple pom-pom stuck up my nose".
The toilet's still blocked, alas, but the pom-pom was removed with the minimal amount of fuss and a pair of tweezers.
We almost managed an invite to a Thanksgiving Feast, but faltered at the last hurdle, as the chap who was inviting us found out that twenty-seven other people were being invited, and didn't fancy making it a round 30. Rotter.
Instead we are going to have that staple of post-Christmas gluttony: turkey curry. C* (bridgjo's company) gave us a voucher for a free turkey, so I went to our local super-market and ordered one, cut into eight pieces, as, quite frankly, I would be hard-pressed to fit a 30lb turkey in my freezer. This means we will have meat throughout those lean, winter months. In true American style, the butcher carried the dismembered carcass to the cash-register for me, and a bag-boy carried it to the car.
I also ordered the wood. A Fireplace Chord, no less, which is nicely stacked at the back of the house. The men who brought it arrived at 6am,having already done one delivery. I offered them a cup of tea, and asked how they wanted it. "Um, how do people have it?", one asked. I did it "servant's tea"-style: strong, milky with sugar. Half-an hour later, there was a timid knock on he door. "Any chance of another cup of that tea?" - more Americans converted to the complex ways of the English.
27 November 2008
22 November 2008
So what's the weather like there, then?
Blimmin' cold.
Yesterday I went for a bike ride. Normally, you have to swim about 6 lengths before you really warm up and, similarly, cycle about 10 mins. So although I was repeating the rapidly rabid-sounding mantra of "I am getting warmer, I AM getting warmer", I realised I was not, in fact, warming up, and, actually, this was probably because I could no longer sense the upper-epidermis. And I wouldn't have been able to feel the upper-epidermis in any case, as my fingers were numb, and, as far as I was aware had even snapped off in the extreme cold and were rattling around in my so-called thermal gloves. Hah! I say to the Minnesota winter (from my nice warm living-room, in front of the fire).
So, most likely, not that much more excercise for me, unless it involves crisps and old episodes of Casualty.
Apparently last year it went down to -17F. Obviously, this was just one of the locals having a laugh with me, like they do. -17F, indeed.
Today though, we did brave the cold (0F) for a nice walk (although we were the only ones).
Tomorrow I am buying a balaclava. Unfortunately, not the Greek variety.
Yesterday I went for a bike ride. Normally, you have to swim about 6 lengths before you really warm up and, similarly, cycle about 10 mins. So although I was repeating the rapidly rabid-sounding mantra of "I am getting warmer, I AM getting warmer", I realised I was not, in fact, warming up, and, actually, this was probably because I could no longer sense the upper-epidermis. And I wouldn't have been able to feel the upper-epidermis in any case, as my fingers were numb, and, as far as I was aware had even snapped off in the extreme cold and were rattling around in my so-called thermal gloves. Hah! I say to the Minnesota winter (from my nice warm living-room, in front of the fire).
So, most likely, not that much more excercise for me, unless it involves crisps and old episodes of Casualty.
Apparently last year it went down to -17F. Obviously, this was just one of the locals having a laugh with me, like they do. -17F, indeed.
Today though, we did brave the cold (0F) for a nice walk (although we were the only ones).
Tomorrow I am buying a balaclava. Unfortunately, not the Greek variety.
14 November 2008
Huntin', fishin' etc
I have a virus. Well, my lap-top has. It’s very interesting from a nerdy point-of-view, in that it does several things, including starting up Internet Explorer by Itself, and randomly replacing my desk-top icons with others so Excel looks like WinWord, WinWord looks like Minesweeper etc. Unfortunately, when it opens up Internet Explorer it seems to favour Russian Porn web-sites, which wasn’t quite what I had in mind when I decided I wanted to learn a new language.
So yesterday I went off to Bloomington to get the PC checked out at the C* (all names have been changed) office there. I wanted really to check out the coffee facilities, and to also make sure I was put onto a “please allow porn” list, so that I didn’t get instant dismissal next time I logged onto the network.
The coffee was mediocre, incidentally, as the company is in a huge campus of five enormous buildings, interconnected with the ubiquitous sky-ways. Normally I wouldn’t even have needed a coat, but it transpires I had to as every two hours I had to get out and move my car as I didn’t have a parking permit. Parking violations still scare me, so much so I use Cruise Control on 30 MPH streets. It is a fact that the more I keep to the speed-limit, the more other road users are encouraged to drive a little bit more bonkers that if, say, I was doing 8 over.
Not sorted, unfortunately, so I’m going to have to send my hard-drive to Toronto (where the nearest help-desk is). Apparently Minnesota is colder than Toronto. Oh, pur-lease. Stop this jesting right this instant!
The alternative is to go back to Oz and plead my case to getting anew PC, though that might not be exactly viable, with the weather an’ all.
And I have been informed by a reliable source that a cord of wood is “about the height of a moose’s hip, dontcha know?”.
And, yes, the hunting season has started. I passed by Nelson’s our local butcher, with an A-Sign outside saying “Bring your deer here!”. The news last week was helpfully informing us of the latest in rifles, and reminding us to wear bright clothes so our buddies don’t mistake us for two-legged venison. So the chap I passed in the ute this morning with the unshaven face and the bright orange beanie HAD A RIFLE IN HIS BOOT! (trunk).
I’m steadily picking up the lingo, although in Lund’s (the supermarket) this morning , when the cashier asked “What’s this?”, holding up a pepper, I had to reply “D’uh, dunno”, as I couldn’t think of the American. All the way home I was muttering “Egg-plant, zucchini, paprika. Egg-plant, zucchini…”.
And T has officially settled in well. She asked me on the way to school why I don’t have as many friends as her. “Would you like me to tell you how to make friends, Mummy?”, “Of course. Do you just ask them to play with you?”. She sighed, and with a wisdom that belies her years, explained – “When it’s “quiet-time”, you just go and get the same activity to do as the person you want to talk to, and then sit next to them, and you see, you just start chatting”.
It looks as though I may not have successfully cancelled the snow clearing (which may be a Good thing, depending on how much Warren quotes me when he passes by later today – some bloke who does next-door’s drive), as the orange sticks have already been placed along the drive way to tell him just have far he has to dig when it snows.
The 5 foot high poles with reflectors on the top which have started to appear along-side people’s verges are not, as I first thought, thoughtful ways of letting people know where the road-side is in the dark, but to let the snow-plough know where to plough when it is 5 foot high in snow. Super.
So yesterday I went off to Bloomington to get the PC checked out at the C* (all names have been changed) office there. I wanted really to check out the coffee facilities, and to also make sure I was put onto a “please allow porn” list, so that I didn’t get instant dismissal next time I logged onto the network.
The coffee was mediocre, incidentally, as the company is in a huge campus of five enormous buildings, interconnected with the ubiquitous sky-ways. Normally I wouldn’t even have needed a coat, but it transpires I had to as every two hours I had to get out and move my car as I didn’t have a parking permit. Parking violations still scare me, so much so I use Cruise Control on 30 MPH streets. It is a fact that the more I keep to the speed-limit, the more other road users are encouraged to drive a little bit more bonkers that if, say, I was doing 8 over.
Not sorted, unfortunately, so I’m going to have to send my hard-drive to Toronto (where the nearest help-desk is). Apparently Minnesota is colder than Toronto. Oh, pur-lease. Stop this jesting right this instant!
The alternative is to go back to Oz and plead my case to getting anew PC, though that might not be exactly viable, with the weather an’ all.
And I have been informed by a reliable source that a cord of wood is “about the height of a moose’s hip, dontcha know?”.
And, yes, the hunting season has started. I passed by Nelson’s our local butcher, with an A-Sign outside saying “Bring your deer here!”. The news last week was helpfully informing us of the latest in rifles, and reminding us to wear bright clothes so our buddies don’t mistake us for two-legged venison. So the chap I passed in the ute this morning with the unshaven face and the bright orange beanie HAD A RIFLE IN HIS BOOT! (trunk).
I’m steadily picking up the lingo, although in Lund’s (the supermarket) this morning , when the cashier asked “What’s this?”, holding up a pepper, I had to reply “D’uh, dunno”, as I couldn’t think of the American. All the way home I was muttering “Egg-plant, zucchini, paprika. Egg-plant, zucchini…”.
And T has officially settled in well. She asked me on the way to school why I don’t have as many friends as her. “Would you like me to tell you how to make friends, Mummy?”, “Of course. Do you just ask them to play with you?”. She sighed, and with a wisdom that belies her years, explained – “When it’s “quiet-time”, you just go and get the same activity to do as the person you want to talk to, and then sit next to them, and you see, you just start chatting”.
It looks as though I may not have successfully cancelled the snow clearing (which may be a Good thing, depending on how much Warren quotes me when he passes by later today – some bloke who does next-door’s drive), as the orange sticks have already been placed along the drive way to tell him just have far he has to dig when it snows.
The 5 foot high poles with reflectors on the top which have started to appear along-side people’s verges are not, as I first thought, thoughtful ways of letting people know where the road-side is in the dark, but to let the snow-plough know where to plough when it is 5 foot high in snow. Super.
10 November 2008
Pardon?
How can you read something in English, and still not understand a word? I am about to buy my winter's firewood (after the DJ laughingly stated on the radio she had to use up the whole winter's supply last sunday). I'm thinking of getting it from:
http://firewood.com/index.cfm/pageid/2
But what's a chord?
Oh, and my relocation person tells me that the real reason Amercians do not reply to my "G'day!" in the gym changing room is because it's really, really weird.
http://firewood.com/index.cfm/pageid/2
But what's a chord?
Oh, and my relocation person tells me that the real reason Amercians do not reply to my "G'day!" in the gym changing room is because it's really, really weird.
07 November 2008
Gun-Powder Trees on a Plot
Lots of celebrations at this time of year - obviously to off-set the snow we expect. Maybe 5 months. Maybe 6.
First off was Hallowe'en. T, naturally, dressed as a princess. Here the emphasis is on cuteness and candy, rather than gore and cash. T is the one who complains about walking precisely five minutes after we start. Strangely, that evening, she managed two hours. Luckily, the weather was a balmy top 60s, which meant thermals under the outfits, but not snow-suits, which were required last year.
Some of the houses were excellent, with spooky music and lights outside. The unwritten law (lore, I suppose) is that if the house lights are on, you trick or treat (I think some were hiding out in their cellars). the Lawn Nazi across the road (who goes out twice a day to mow his lawn, and it's not my epithet but from the estate over on the other side) left sweets out in a bowl saying "do not knock, help yourselves". These went in about the first 5 mins. Bridgjo was left at home to man the fortress, decorated with suitably spooky items, culled from Target and the Freecycle web-site - pumpkin lights, a giant cauldron etc. He didn't sit down for around all the time we were out. A few people were sitting around fires in their yards, handing out sweets, and then beer for the grown-ups.
It was a good way of introducing myself to all the neighbours (within a two-hour radius), without appearing too Jehovah-Witness.
On Wednesday, of course, it was Guy Fawkes. I googled "Bonfire Night" and "Guy Fawkes Minnesota" and found a blog dated 2004 of someone talking about this Guy Fawkes party their parents had gone to, and a mention of an article in the Burnsville paper. So I googled the paper, then searched the article, and found it, together with the organizer's name - Paul Ellerby - an ex-Brit who likes celebrating it. The article also mentioned that he was involved in curling. So I then googled the curling club in Burnsville, and his name, and it came up with a page about him, which included his company name. So then I searched on that company AND FINALLY FOUND AN E-MAIL ADDRESS! (Sore trigger finger by this time). Upshot was, I sent him an e-mail and he wrote back saying "of course, coma along: - so we did. He had a biggish piece of land - unfortunately no fireworks, as, although you can buy guns down the road, it is illegal to buy fireworks in Minnesota. But he had lots of people, food, drink, a big fire with seats around and a Guy. And, naturally, Morris Men and singing. It was an excellent evening!
Today was the first time T has woken-up to snow, and she was very excited indeed. She was one of the only ones to turn up to school suitabley attired, menaing taht non of the kids were allowed out all day. It prompted a letter from the head-mistress detailing the clothes the children are expected to have from now on in. ie they are expected to turn up roughly spherical. Bridgjo and I had to drive into St Paul for a Cultural Awareness training course (which was 6 hours of chatting a nice meal out - the trainer told us about Japan where he lived, we talked about Switzerland. I think US may have been mentioned once or twice). We were a bit concerned we couldn't make it back to pick her up at home-time, but luckily they have day-care after-hours there, so I called up the secretary so that she could sort it for us. We managed to get there just in time.
More snow expected this week-end.
First off was Hallowe'en. T, naturally, dressed as a princess. Here the emphasis is on cuteness and candy, rather than gore and cash. T is the one who complains about walking precisely five minutes after we start. Strangely, that evening, she managed two hours. Luckily, the weather was a balmy top 60s, which meant thermals under the outfits, but not snow-suits, which were required last year.
Some of the houses were excellent, with spooky music and lights outside. The unwritten law (lore, I suppose) is that if the house lights are on, you trick or treat (I think some were hiding out in their cellars). the Lawn Nazi across the road (who goes out twice a day to mow his lawn, and it's not my epithet but from the estate over on the other side) left sweets out in a bowl saying "do not knock, help yourselves". These went in about the first 5 mins. Bridgjo was left at home to man the fortress, decorated with suitably spooky items, culled from Target and the Freecycle web-site - pumpkin lights, a giant cauldron etc. He didn't sit down for around all the time we were out. A few people were sitting around fires in their yards, handing out sweets, and then beer for the grown-ups.
It was a good way of introducing myself to all the neighbours (within a two-hour radius), without appearing too Jehovah-Witness.
On Wednesday, of course, it was Guy Fawkes. I googled "Bonfire Night" and "Guy Fawkes Minnesota" and found a blog dated 2004 of someone talking about this Guy Fawkes party their parents had gone to, and a mention of an article in the Burnsville paper. So I googled the paper, then searched the article, and found it, together with the organizer's name - Paul Ellerby - an ex-Brit who likes celebrating it. The article also mentioned that he was involved in curling. So I then googled the curling club in Burnsville, and his name, and it came up with a page about him, which included his company name. So then I searched on that company AND FINALLY FOUND AN E-MAIL ADDRESS! (Sore trigger finger by this time). Upshot was, I sent him an e-mail and he wrote back saying "of course, coma along: - so we did. He had a biggish piece of land - unfortunately no fireworks, as, although you can buy guns down the road, it is illegal to buy fireworks in Minnesota. But he had lots of people, food, drink, a big fire with seats around and a Guy. And, naturally, Morris Men and singing. It was an excellent evening!
Today was the first time T has woken-up to snow, and she was very excited indeed. She was one of the only ones to turn up to school suitabley attired, menaing taht non of the kids were allowed out all day. It prompted a letter from the head-mistress detailing the clothes the children are expected to have from now on in. ie they are expected to turn up roughly spherical. Bridgjo and I had to drive into St Paul for a Cultural Awareness training course (which was 6 hours of chatting a nice meal out - the trainer told us about Japan where he lived, we talked about Switzerland. I think US may have been mentioned once or twice). We were a bit concerned we couldn't make it back to pick her up at home-time, but luckily they have day-care after-hours there, so I called up the secretary so that she could sort it for us. We managed to get there just in time.
More snow expected this week-end.
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