Eeek!

Poor T. She does get an awful lot of unjustified flack, just because she is the shortest person in the house. Yesterday evening, I went into the drawer (you know, the one which contains crap, just above the drawer which holds all the plastic bags), and found that every single one of the Oxo stock cubes had been opened - even the ones in the tin (which had also been prised open). Naturally, the only person to blame in the house was the small one....and after getting rather a bit too cross, I had a closer look.....and the drawer was, indeed, full of crap. From a mouse's bottom.

So I had to empty all the drawers, and the cup-boards (emptying the rubbish drawer directly into the bin. Yes, even the elastic bands and the partly used party candles), spraying everything and everywhere with bleach, immersing in scalding water, then sticking it all in the dish-washer.

There are gaps in the cup-boards where they have got in, leading to the back of the dish-washer and then outside.

So off went bridgjo to the hardware store at about 8pm (which we can do here, because we're in the US, and the shops don't shut at 5, like they seemed to do in Switzerland), and got "humane" mouse-traps.

We had had them on our list in any case, as, although the squirrels had been sorted out by the trappers quite well, there was still a lot of night-time activity above T's bed, which they said was mice (as they kept nipping in the squirrel traps, eating the peanut butter, and scurrying out without setting them off).

So we placed them strategically about the kitchen last night and managed to bag one this morning.

So, animal-loving fools that we are, we bundled into the car in minus 10 centigrade, so we could release it back into the wild (obviously several blocks from where we live). We gave it some cheese and let it out, so at least it was still alive at that point.

Today, in-between mouse-detail, we went off to the Ridgedale shopping centre to exchange my new espresso machine for the second time. On Thursday it was the plastic casing which was broken, and yesterday it was the carafe. This time I decided on a de-Longhi, instead of the much cheaper Krups. It's made a really quite decent cup of coffee too, though it did seem a bit of a faff the first time (fill with water, warm the machine, warm cups and place on heating plate, fill with coffee and tamper down (but not too much, yes, that's about right), make coffee, froth milk, ladle and decorate accordingly, leave to cool and repeat for a second cup. Don't understand why tea has never really caught on here.

I was telling my friend about going to Ridgedale on Thursday, and got as far as "and the funniest thing....", and she interrupted me "You mean the 'Mall Walkers?'".

Yes, they even have a phrase for them. These are the people (generally of a certain age, but I also saw young mums with prams), who go to the mall an hour before the shops open, just to walk around to get their exercise, as it is too jolly cold to do it anywhere else (I kept seeing these old biddies speed-walking passed me in sneakers and sweat-pants, with nicely-set hair).

Friday was T's school play. The theme this year was a King and Queen who were turned to ice, and needed to be cheered up in order to be thawed out. The French joke section was a bit hard-going (Who is the president of vegetable? Mr S'haricot-zy), but the singing and dancing was great. As usual the plus petite section (who are about 3) stole the show with their interpretation of 60's dancing.

After this, I nipped across town (tentatively, as there was still ice about) to go to an Ugly Christmas Sweater party. It was a hoot. It is quite amazing what people can actually purchase/receive for Christmas.

We then exchanged "rubbish presents" (each had to have a story, and had to have been received as a gift). I think the best one was from a guy called Steve Smith, who regifted a present given to him by his father-in-law. It was a wallet with a gold "B" on it.

I have had another winter advisory message on my phone - everyone stay inside from 9pm tonight till tomorrow morning.

Time to Rug Up

First real snow driving of the season. Naturally, everyone else drives as if they have never seen snow before, and I was glad coming home from T's eye practice that we came the back-roads way (25 m/hr with no-one else about, and I could take the corners like a steam-roller). Already the free-way was crawling along.

We are going to have a good old snow-storm ("andja only get one like this one a decade," they said on the radio) which will last about 24 hours. We should be getting about 8". In '91 they got 29" in three days. There were food shortages at the supermarkets.....but only of the junk-food variety. Less of the "pop out for a bottle of milk," and more "For God's sake, don't forget the pepperoni!".

T was given some tiny Puppies in My Pocket (the sort of size toy manufacturer's currently delight in, which are just perfect for getting sucked up the hoover), which you put into iced water so that their nappies change colour and you can tell if they are girls or boys. T said that today when the kids were flung into the play-ground, she was standing there...."and they all went blue".

Madame yesterday met me at the class-room door and said "Good, I've caught you. Now, I need 20 cat masks for Friday. I've bought the foam", and presented me with sheets of craft material and elastic. I felt a little like Rumpelstiltskin. So I did that; tie-dying last week; and today helping at lunch and then laminating all the letters of the alphabet. T is going to be an Alpha-bete (a hilarious French pun); the letter J, I believe. I would so like a laminating machine. Not sure what I'd laminate, but it's great fun. Recipes, articles, socks...

Next week, I'm dinner-ladying again, and helping out in one of the class-rooms. A bit of a hoo-hah a couple of weeks ago when one of the teachers went a bit bonkers and had to be escorted off the premises, so they are short on anyone to help-out, but long on gossip if you do want to actually do your bit.

I got my battery sorted. He comes around, drops me a car off, takes mine away, and, this time, met me at school and we swapped over again.

And the tree was in the back of bridgjo's wardrobe. So, how did it get there then?

Art Attack

I went into T's class last week, with the purpose of asking her teacher whether it would be a nice idea for the class to do a series of Birds of Minnesota pictures for the class-room. The idea was that I could find all the local birds in Latin and French, get the children to draw them, and we would label them aka the Voyages of the Beagle Botanical sketches.

Today - I had to give a presentation (with print-outs!). And I am proud to say that my feasibility study has been accepted by the Gala committee, and not only will each child produce their own volucrine masterpiece as a limited print for the grannies to swoon over, but we will present the originals in a leather portfolio for one of the auction items at the end-of-year auction. And then, we will be rolling out coasters and place-mats (really).

A sign went up in the school corridor this afternoon: Remember, that unless then temperature falls below 0 degrees Fahrenheit, the children will be going outside to play and will require their snow-suits, mittens and hats.

They make them tough around here.

And I cannot find my Christmas tree. It was suggested that maybe the stagiaire took it with her when she left on her road-trip, but even I had a job imagining just how she would sneak it out. But, quite amazingly, I have all the boxes of decorations AND the empty tree box, but no tree or lights.

I had to sort out two grown-up things today - getting the local lad to dig our drive of snow (I know he was a lad, because when I asked for a written quote he said "Yeah, OK, I'll just ask my M...Secretary to get one out to you"). The second one was that my car battery has suddenly started coughing on me each time I try and turn on the ignition. The chap asked me when I called up, if I had checked the contacts. He had to ask me twice as the first time I must have phased out and thought "Oh, bridgjo can answer this one", even though I was the one actually on the phone.

The temperature has plummeted, and the poor little critters in the back garden are getting fluffier. We have grey foxes (the only ones which can climb trees), a family of raccoons (which can also climb trees and attempt to swing off the bird-table), two opossum (which are completely blind it seems, and are also the only marsupial outside of Australia. I have not seen pockets) and a myriad of local birds, including the blue jays, cardinals and, possibly, turkeys.

I buy the cheapest dried cat-food on special and put some outside each evening. Not in a bowl though, as the only time I did that the raccoons ran off with it and hid it somewhere.

We're not in Kansas anymore

We had a great time a couple of weeks ago when we went to the local school play (Hopkins High School). It was the Wizard of Oz, so I thought T would like it, as she knows the story and wouldn't be stage-whispering all the way through "But what's happening NOOOOOOWWW?". We were prepared for a "Aww, sweet" sort of play, but blimey it was professional (although in the first few minutes I did think to myself, "Gosh, she does an awfully good American accent").

For a start it was in the school's very own theatre (even with balconies, and box seats). There were pyrotechnics for the appearance of the Wizard, disappearance of the witch, and the moment when she attempts to touch Dorothy's shoes, and then there was the flight crew, which managed to get Miss Whateverhernameis all the way across the top of the stage on her bicycle. It was all rather brilliant, and made my paltry school nativity plays seem a bit half-baked.

Last weekend we went to Duluth (Mark Twain (allegedly) said that the coldest winter he ever experienced was summer in Duluth). Very weird sleeping and hearing the waves lap when you're not by the sea. Lake Superior (clue's in the question) is really rather big...next time I think we'll go further north and maybe stay a bit longer. Bridgjo wants to walk out onto the lake and look into the lake caves around there, which you can't normally get to.

On Sunday we managed to gird our loins and go into town (possibly the first time this year). We went late evening, so managed to go to Macy's display (disappointingly it was the same as last year), see the Big Guy himself, and then go outside to see the Holidazzle parade (a bit like Blackpool Illuminations, but without the rock). I had actually got tickets to see the parade from a heated tent, but it was insufferably hot inside, so instead we took our courtesy hot chocolates out onto the pavement to see the lit floats going past.

It was really a warm night (ie T had one of her coats unbuttoned). The weather's been quite clement, and only this morning did we have a delicate icing of snow. It was 18 degrees Fahrenheit. No idea what that is in shillings, but jolly nippy. I am now so Minnesotan - I have a hat and gloves in my car especially for when I go and fill up with petrol.

Still say petrol though.

She reads wuffly....

T had a great time this Saturday. She partook in the "Paws to Read" program which allows the kids to have a reading lesson (at the local library) whilst cuddling upto an extremely patient and literate mutt. T's was called Murph, and he even glanced at the pictures when she held the book upto/on his nose.

And, yes please, she would like to do it each week, if that's OK.

Gunpowder Trees on a Plot II

Our second Bonfire Night in Minnesota. It takes place on what seems like farm-land - we only ever go in the middle of the night, so it could just as well be in the middle of a housing estate. It has a long drive decorated with candles all along. It reminds me of when I was little and muddy bonfire nights at a farm we used to go to.

We were stopped on the corner of the driveway going in to the house where it is held by a Police Car after a burglar. He told us to all stay indoors and lock everything. This made the revellers laugh when we relayed it.

The tandoori chicken I made was devoured with alacrity, although I overheard quite a lot of discussion re. the parkin. Some distrust (it is rather sturdy, and shouldn't actually be eaten for another 2 weeks, and even then possibly only used in interior decorating as a type of rustic door-stop); but a mostly positive, albeit muffled, response. Everyone takes loads of food - with each new arrival, there's a new course. T discovered treacle toffee for the first time, and was quiet for at least ten minutes.

T adored the whole thing - this after all is all she knows of Guy Fawkes, having never experienced it in the UK. She is talking about the whole thing in class today. We stayed for two sets of the Morris Men, and the burning of the Guy. We had one of the stagiaires with us, who cheerfully joined in as required.

I got chatting with one of the Morris Men - he wears three bells, is one of the Marches Morris Men ( they wear black,as opposed to the Cotswold, white-wearing, handkerchief-flipping bunch of miscreants - I detected some professional jealousy/dislike here), and aspires to be a "Molly" (which seems to involved wearing a frock, unsurprisingly).

We are beginning to recognize people...and we only have one more left.

Halloween...

You would have thought it was Christmas Day on Saturday. A palpable excitement when a six year-old realizes that before the night is through she will be neck-deep in sweets.

We went around the shops in Wayzata, trick or treating first. I explained to people she was dressed as a Minnesotan, as we were actually saving the skeleton outfit for the evening, and it was really rather nippy. It was a great way of going into all the shops there without feeling you had to make a purchase.



Her friend came around at six in the evening so they could go out together. Last year the clocks must have gone back before Halloween, as I remember it being much darker. It was quite light still, and really too warm for a ski-jacket. In the picture, both of them have about 4 layers of clothes underneath, T's outfit was really for a 10 year-old, and she's looking distinctly porky.

They soon got into the swing of things, ringing the bells, bellowing trick or treat and diving into the proferred bowls of sweets.

I remember feeling very cool at 14 - however, walking behind two 14/15 year-olds on the way around, it was quite funny to hear one confide in the other "I'm goin' to eat all my candy as soon as I get in". Still little kids....

She ended up with more sweets than we started off with. Bridgjo didn't managed to see more than two minutes of his film at any one time with the number of kids which came round. Sadly, all the decorations, webs and lights have had to come down.....but only a few weeks till the next lot go up.



T's Hallowe'en haiku:

Hallowe'en
A time for getting scared
and sweets.
Thank you.

Sleepless in Minnetonka

Not a good night, last night. The resident wild-life decided to have a Possum Party up in the attic. This seemed to involve strapping woks to their feet and doing the can-can along the entire length of the house. It's quite bizarre as the whole area is insulated with papier-mache, so we're not quite sure what surface they are cavorting against. The agency handling all this sort of thing is a bit hopeless - they seem to take several months and numerous phone-calls to sort out anything. However, they are coming on Wednesday to look around the roof-line and bung up any holes. The handy-man called me today and said could I phone him to make sure that the squirrel was out before they got started. I suggested that maybe a trap would be a more sensible solution, in lieu of any wild-life actually having access to Outlook.

10 kids were away from school today in the class below T's,and 6 away in her class. It was very quiet at picking up time. At the first sign of a sore throat and oinking she is staying at home.

We had a nice time at the weekend though. They always have the organized Hallowe'en events the week-end before the 31st. We missed out last year, but this year went to Hyland park, where they had a lovely lit path-way through the wooded paths, with little games on the sides, and puppet "trees" where the kids could knock on doors and, say, a turkey would pop out and give them a treat. T gave her skeleton outfit a whirl, and she was actually a little too hot. There was also a few mad scientists doing magic tricks and science experiments, a few brains to hold, pickled lizards to look at, and s'mores to make and eat.

Mellow fruitfulness

So I harvested my potatoes. I got 5. I was a bit peeved whilst washing them that I lost two down the sink. The tomatoes got a final sprint on, but ended up suffering after the snow of last week, so had to be disposed of behind the shed. I think next year I will concentrate on pumpkins. No-one really likes to eat them, but they look good on your "stoop" this time of the year....T has already forced me to buy the Hallowe'en costume and to put out the decorations. This year, I am getting a remote control (or timer - depends which fits in the outdoor socket) so I don't have to nip out to turn the lights on/off. The decorations people put out for Christmas and Hallowe'en are quite amazing...there are even companies which will store and put up your house decorations each year.

This year she has decided to be a skeleton. It was either that or a zombie. The era of princesses has sadly passed. I am quite happy though - it just needs to be of a design and size big enough to go over her snow-suit for the Trick or Treatin'.

She squished her finger last night. Somehow, and we don't quite know the details, but "this coffee table suddenly fell" on her hand. I took her down to Urgent Care this morning and she was seen and X-rayed within 45 mins. Hurrah for the US!...and it's not broken, just bruised.

A distinct nip in the air

Great. The first snow the night before last. The last time this happened so early, the natives got snowed in for three days later on in the season. Thus forewarned, we joined the rest of the state in REI (the outdoor clothing company) to replenish the thermal wardrobe.

T asked last night if it would snow again. I said no, and she replied that yes, it was definitely going to snow. "No, really, it's not. Why do you think it is?" I asked. "Well, you're basing it on the weather forecast. I'm basing it on experience".

The raccoon is starting to look fluffier. We want to get a heated birdbath. Apparently it is urban myth that birds' wings freeze, and/or that if they land on a metal railing, and then fly off.....well, you probably get the picture. I asked at the bird sanctuary last week. I think I inadvertently provided the joke for the Christmas Speech this year.

Gopher this, gopher that

Yesterday,feeling a little bit like Noah, I found myself oiling the garden furniture (and the patio, and me) obviously in preparation for the monumental rain we've been experiencing since approximately 10 minutes after I finished. 48 hours of rain. Just enough to bring England to a halt, and its government to its knees.

Today is one of the busy days, just the sort where you really don't want to drive on the motorways in the rain. To school, back again to ice-skating. Back to school to pick up T, then to Wayzata for her Vision Therapy. Back to school. Home. 30 mins to make tea, then back to school again. Home, eat tea, off to ice-skating for T (unless she (oh please do!) throws a wobbly and refuses to go). Normally the free-way traffic will slow down by a good 10 miles an hour (a law, dontcha know). I did try to avoid it today, but no matter how hard I tried to fool the GPS, she was adamant I had to go the fast way.

At ice-skating I learnt that Laura last week broke her ankle in two places, and was just having the operation to put pins in. The coach said "I hope it hasn't put her off". The rest of us skated very tentatively indeed.

The Weather

P.S. Just so you know, tonight is a "Waxing Gibbous Moon".

Winter is icumen in

The bugs have stopped their incessant night-time chatter, indicating the start of our second sub-zero winter. A sort of joke, but I am already wearing two thermals vests and my ski-jacket. Inside the house. Like all good English people we refuse to put the central heating on just yet, although we did give it a blast last night, to accompany the first fire of the season. We're not quite an environmentalist's dream.

T is getting busy at school. Homework started this week. It is really being more of a chore for most of the mums, trying to persuade their kids to sit down and do it.The teacher has said that if they are not finished within 30 mins, to leave it. My approach is that this is far too long, and eats into valuable colouring-in time at home. I give her 10 minutes. So far it has involved reading lists and attempting to write five words without copying from the original.

She is also attending Vision Therapy as she is having difficulty focusing. I'm quite optimistic as there appears to have been an improvement already. Some of the things she has to do seem quite tricky for a 6-year old. eg Jessica sits opposite to her and says "Which is your right-hand, which is your left?", and then asks "Which is my left-hand and my right?", which involves a fair deal more spatial awareness than her mother is capable of (ask bridgjo - there was a very good reason we invested in a GPS). The exercise she likes best involves her lying on the floor on her tummy, and me touching an arm, leg, head, and her raising it. Then we go up to 4....it's a bit like the Simon electronic game with "Lady-Bird"-clad appendages rather than flashing-lights. This is all to do with "body awareness" as it is tricky at this age to just say "Well, move your right eye in a bit". There are lots of tracking exercises ("Follow my finger....") and focusing games to do too. What with the homework, this, plus she needs to keep up with her English reading, we're going to have to start getting up earlier.

But not this morning - a tumultuous thunderstorm at 6.30am, and the darkest morning yet, encouraged us to have an extra hour in bed with a story.

I took my skates in to be sharpened today. This is in spite of the other woman in my class coming a cropper the other day, and either wrenching or breaking her ankle (a piercing scream and and yell if "It's grating", is not something you really want to hear. Or, indeed, experience).

At the shop I came across the snort-worthy Warrior Nutt Hutt. This sturdy piece of equipment came in one of those inpenetrable plastic jobbies (of the type, paradoxically, scissors are normally sold in), with the award-winning design being a photo of a broken peanut casing with two tatty looking peanuts inside.

Happy Birthday!

Yesterday was T's 6th Birthday Party. It was a super time, aided particularly by the weather, meaning most of it could be spent outside.

I had originally said only 10 girls could come, then it turned out that there was only 12 girls in the class, so I caved. Then realised that some of these had siblings. In the end we managed to distribute about 14 party buckets, although it seemed much more.

We started at 2pm, and the mums (unusually for this part of America, at least), dutifully dropped the kids in our care, then went and hid in the family-room with several bottles of wine. It was nice that I actually managed to persuade almost all of the parents to stay as usually there is the tendency for them to disappear (after jettisoning most of their off-spring). Bridgjo managed to rustle up an excellent obstacle course, with a packing-case tunnel, several bridges (one of which was over a paddling-pool full of piranha (or rubber ducks)), cones, jumps etc. At the end was some serious balloon-popping, which went down very well.

After that I took them inside for the first Pass-The-Parcel. I slung the parcel in the middle of this circle of girls half-expecting them to react like English kids (ie manic ripping of wrapping, over within about 15 seconds). Noooo, first of all, it had to be explained, that they can only unwrap one-layer when the music stops ("but what's a layer?"), with there a prize in the middle ("but who gets it?"). Luckily, I had factored in two of these, as it was the first time any of them had played it. By the time the second one came round at the end of the day, they were practically English). We then went outside and had some good-old Brownie-style running around games, like What Time is it, Mr Wolf? (Quelle heure est-il, M. le Loup, for the French girls), Mother, May I? (which they were all rubbish at), and The Captain is Coming!

Getting slightly hoarse by then, we entered the bear-pit which was the Party Room. I had managed (at quite short notice) to get two tables and 12 chairs from the local party shop. We ate that perennial birthday favourite (in my house) - mice sitting on a field of green jelly, pizza dough snakes, fruit salad (which some of them regarded with distrust), and a rather brilliant birthday cake from Lunds and Byerleys, figuring out that by the time I had bought all the cake tins I needed, I may as well buy the thing.

After that (this was all carefully orchestrated, you understand), we had Pin the Tail on The Dragon (which involved some serious cheating), a reprise of the Pass-The-Parcel, and (at the prompting of one of the guests - which was lucky as we'd forgotten), the Pinata. The Pinata was a girl version, where you didn't have to hit it madly with a large baseball bat, but each pulled a pink string instead. Didn't stop them belting each other in the queue for it, mind.

All that remained after this was the dispersal of the party buckets, indicating that I wanted everyone to go home. Actually I have no idea if all the parents turned up and took home the correct kids, but I assume so.

Only the French people remained, as it turned out to be such a nice afternoon. They went off and did some shopping, and we had a rather good impromptu barbecue going on until quite late.

And T's favourite part? Making a fort out of card-board boxes late in the evening.

All worth-while then.

Juut a bit off the Top

Two months have passed since my last trip to the salon (Juut). My time here is measured in hair-cuts - and time is especially whooshy at the moment. Summer went by (oh look, there it goes), without a By-Your-Leave it seemed. One minute I'm considering Mandarin Chinese as a perfectly acceptable summer past-time, and the next I'm off looking for suitable blue shorts. (As a By The Way, I am currently In Dispute with Target which appears to refuse to stock blue stockings for 6 year-olds, yet has padded bras for 7 year-olds).

So they (at Juut) were particularly enthusiastic when I rocked up last week, the hostess even bending at the waist to place her hands between her knees, looking at me with a fixed smile on her face and gushing "Oh, we are sooooo happy to have you with us again". As I am English, my response is generally "Umm...". This manic enthusiasm stems from their policy of attempting To Make Your Day, and each employee there is given the title of "Day-Maker". I think this means that they each have to compliment you on at least one thing. Seeing their collective stunned mullet faces last time I was there, I felt I was providing them with a challenge.

I had a facial this time - I am sooooo over exfoliation. Hurrah for long trousers and knitted bathing-costumes! I love facials as they always make me feel slightly stoned in a nice, legal sort of way. This one howerver seemed to involve her tapping a small gong every ten minutes (to make sure I was paying attention?), at which I began to snigger slightly more pig-like each time. By the time she starting massaging my nose, I almost felt that I should call someone up and explain why I was laughing so hard.

Next time I am thinking of going red. I am giving this some serious thought as I love the colour, but there is the risk that on a Thin Day I could look like a Swan Vesta, and on a Fat Day, a Cherry Bakewell.

At the weeke-end I went to a book-club girl's baby-shower. She is expecting twin boys, and one of her favourite gifts (not from me - I bought 100 nappies; "about 3 days' worth") was a packet of "Pee-pee Tee-Pees" - a small absorbent, towelling wigwam, to be draped over that part which shocks new mothers of baby boys at 3am in the morning.

Long Live the King!

It's Labor day weekend (must remember to put those white heels away), and the weather is an excellent 83 degrees. We went to one of our favourite parks, Richardson Nature Center, which we last saw sometime pre-April for the ice-carving when it was the coldest we ever experienced and bridgjo ran back to the car holding T, yelling "We have to go back to Whitby to warm up!" (though I might have imagined the last bit).

Today was the tagging of the Monarch butterfly. This involves hordes of pre-schoolers running around the prairie (no little house to be seen) with enormous nets terrifying the wild-life. The idea being that we caught one and took it back to be tagged. This seemed to involve sticking a post-it on its wings ("which in no way would effect its ability to fly"). They had obviously got wind of this, as there was not a single butterfly to be seen, regal or common.

Their flight-path takes them down to the hills of Mexico, where local street urchins are urged to seek them out, getting paid $5 for each butterfly recovered.

We went to Yum! on the way home. Excellent tuna-burger, but a rather shabby espresso - I think they used old coffee-grounds, but didn't have it in me to complain.

T goes to school on Tuesday. It was Open Day on Friday. It's the same teacher, and the same class-room, but this year (for First Grade) the story mat has been removed and the group tables have been replaced with desks in rows. She now has a pencil-case (I am still a kid - frisson of excitement went through me when I saw all the kit) and a HOMEWORK DIARY! This scares me obviously more than it does T. That she (1) has homework and (2) needs a diary to remind her.

It's quite big, isn't it?

[This is the last post regarding our hols - again there are more pics on FB]

After spending a night in Las Vegas, we hired a car and drove to the Ranch for the Cowboy part of our stay at Ranch 10 the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. This area has a couple of advantages over the South, namely that it is far less touristy, and also about ten degrees cooler.

We drove through three states - Nevada, Utah and Arizona to get to our destination.

It was quite a trip - as suggested by the GPS when it said "Continue for 119 miles to your destination". First we stopped off in St George, which had the benefit of an extremely good cup-cake shop, and the local paper which exhorted us to go to the local body-shop which offered "a free gun with every paint job!!!". From then on it was dirt-track all the way - 70 miles of dust and pot-holes (which eventually gave us two flat tyres).

The Ranch was great. We slept in Cowboy Wagons (the sleeping arrangements were youth-hostelly - so there were dorms, wagons, or sleeping under the stars). For the most part it caters for the white-water-rafting tourists - helicoptering them out of the canyon and up there to have their first shower of the week. We just hung out, with ATV tours, walks, twice-a-day horse-back riding and even a helicopter ride down to the bottom of the Canyon itself.

There was loads of wild-life, as you would expect in a place so remote form anywhere; road-runners (meep-meep), a snake under the wagon, a scorpion in the pitch black of night in the toilets. One evening I went for a run and I think it was the first time I have ever experienced complete silence - no cars, planes. No background noise of what we have become accustomed to of every day activity. I was bombarded by bats though. JB on the other-hand swears he almost stepped on two rattle-snakes, hearing a couple of portentous rattling sounds as he jogged (and then, supposedly, ran) along.

We lay on the deck looking at the Milky-Way, drinking beers (smuggled in, it was a bit "dry") and watching the shooting-stars. Each night the generator went off at 10pm - which was great in that the other guests weren't encouraged to stay up late and chat. T had no trouble in staying awake until that time, even though we were getting up at about 6am.

It was all rather idyllic, and I recommend it to all my readers.

Food for Thought

JB has just berated me for buying the latest cereal for our daughter. Read what it exhorts along the product's name.

Because parents really need that extra bit of help in introducing cavities in their kids' mouths.

Or is the tide just turning against healthy food?

T has just recently had her first visit from the Tooth Fairy (Peggy), and her mate (Peg-Leg the Pirate). We eventually pulled the rogue teeth out (I did one, and she did the other once she realised gifts were involved). The adult teeth are now moving pleasingly into place.

What happens in Vegas...

[There are more pics on Facebook, and even a couple of vids. Just search on my hotmail address, and "be my friend"]

When I turned 40 (no, really, you wouldn’t have guessed, etc) , two things occurred; firstly, a preponderance of grey pubic hair, and secondly the overwhelming urge to make sandwiches each time a long car journey is mentioned. And they have to be whole-meal with ham and cheese on, with some crisps and possibly a boiled egg.

Thus furnished, off we went on our hols to Vegas (one drops the Las). Luckily, this genetic mutation had also forced me into the local Barnes and Noble beforehand to get a quantity of mags, dot-to-dot and pens for T and bridgjo, in case of boredom. Quite fortuitous, as the big-seller at the airport that week was the pop-out (hmm) Barack Obama stand-up doll (in traditional vest and knickers); “Dress the President in an exciting array of pinstripe and tweed!”.

We stayed in the Desert Rose at the South End of the strip, just behind Hooters (find your own link). It was jolly cheap $80 for the first night, for a two-bedroomed suite with equipped kitchen, then the last two nights of the trip we down-graded to one-bedroom for $50. (The resort doesn’t quite look like the picture, BTW, but the swimming-pool was great, and the breakfast OK if you got up early enough and grabbed enough to make sandwiches for later (somebody stop me)).


But blimey, it was hot. Obviously this has an impact on hotel prices, but I’ve actually lived in a desert before, dontcha know. But this was something else. Really, which idiot thought of building there? (Duck! Oh, sorry, Bugsy, I didn’t see you standing there). All that water! All that electricity! A few years ago, they tried to market it to families, but it failed….a lack of transport infrastructure and a variety of proof of Nevada’s rather lax prostitute laws probably had an impact on that Business Model.

In Singapore, you don’t need to go outside, just walk from one end of the block to another through each of the department stores. In Vegas you have to scoot along the walkways through the casinos (and although children are allowed in, you can’t even stop to tie your shoe-lace. Even if the slot machine does have unicorns on), come outside, and get into the next one and so on down the street. And it is massive. On the map you think “Hmm, let’s nip to the Bellagio to see the fountains”, and on the map it’s only one block away. But each block is about 1 mile long. It was built with no underpasses (there’s a 10 lane highway which forms the strip, with infrequent crossings), and a mono-rail which only seems to have about 4 stops. Wynne , where we had a brilliant buffet one night (ideally seated between the sea-food, and the chocolate-mousse-on-a-meringue-base stands), had had a shuttle between the monorail and the hotel, but had discontinued it shortly before we went. Didn’t stop us though.

But you know, in spite of the grumbles, it is quite amazing. I kept finding a slightly daffy look on my face, gawping at Luxor, MGM and the Venetian, and thinking “Wow!”.

Yes, I gambled. One whole dollar at Caesar’s Palace. I won 20 cents.

And the food was really reasonable too. I went there expecting London prices (no wonder Americans moaning (quietly to themselves until they get back) when they go to the UK), but we had an enormous steak dinner (there’s posh) for around $100. And when I say enormous; I usually buy a 6oz fillet steak and split it between JB and I on a Monday. There we each indulged in 22oz monsters. I now eschew, rather than chew meat. I think it cured me.

It has an overwhelming party atmosphere (judging by the people walking down the strip holding two foot high cocktails), and at night it really is just like the pictures. Sort of Disney, but everso slightly adult. I’d have loved to have seen a show – I think Penn & Teller would have been good. I’ll save it until a certain person is a bit older.

There’s lots of building going on at the moment, which makes the Strip even more difficult to traverse. After all, what Las Vegas needs is more hotels. Really not much of an economic slump in evidence there.

But it really, truly is as exciting, loud, lively, bright, sparkly and as trippy as anything you could expect (although if you go with a 5-year-old expect several conversations along the theme of “But why do the naughty ladies catch cold when they dress like that?”).

We're not in Kansas anymore....

So after a good ten minutes of "What IS that sound, it sounds like a siren", I finally got onto the internet and found it was, indeed, a siren as a tornado has just this second hit Plymouth (the town next to us). We unfortunately cannot relocate into the cellar, as that is awash with the inch of rain we had last night (it seems so much more....).

Tooth is Stranger than Friction

Still having problems with my crown. Getting distinctly tarnished now, in a figurative sense. I am admittedly a complete wuss when it comes to pain (hence a five-minute labour, and even then we ended up taking the emergency exit), so when someone asks me "Well, how much does it hurt?", it's tricky. What's my frame of reference? Not child-birth, obviously. So, the "residual" pain of the root canal, does not hurt as much as a migraine, nor yet the agonizing tearing amputation-level burn of a portuguese-man-o'-war (something I always try and mention at least once during a dinner-party; "...and you know, wee really doesn't work...."), but, yes, a little bit more than a stubbed toe, or that moment you realise you have left a teensy bit of foil on a piece of Kit-Kat (the dentist's eyes were starting to glaze at this point). So he's suggested, once he retested with a bit of carbon-paper for the bite (well, they have had to find a use for it somewhere nowadays) that I go and see a root-canal specialist (how do people choose these jobs at school? I was told to become a child-nurse, and that "there is no money in art". Sage advice). This, alas, will probably wait until September, when we roll into the next year of the Tooth Insurance.

At least, it will definately wait until after our hols - in a couple of weeks' time, we're off to Las Vegas, and a Cowboy Adventure near to the Grand Canyon. We can ride ponies and sleep in wagons. I think there are also bean-feasts and compulsory fire-side singing.

The school holidays have gone whoosh (makes sudden hand-flapping movement). Already T has reached the French Cuisine week at school. Poor little thing - on the way, she asked how long it was going to be for, and I said 5 days. "But....but...I don't have any toys with me". She thought I was going to just drop her off for a week.

Memphis Belle

We went to the Air Show at St Cloud today. Amazingly there was a Flying Fortress (B-17) which you could fly in. We settled for a walk-through - T was rather disappointed on that compromise, but we were amazed. Still quite thrilling though. They make a lot more fuss of war Veterans here; a bunch of real life heroes were there to chat about their past.

Surprisingly, there was also a Luftwaffe vet, and, what I suspect, though this would have to be proved, a contingent of the local Neo-Nazis (quite big in Minneapolis).

You can see the pix on my facebook page.

Tea and Hamburgers

The local corner-shop has obviously missed a gap in the market. They have completely sold out of PG-Tips. Did they not realise that everyone has their parents over from the UK at this time?? Alas, we will have to move to Yorkshire Tea instead (the cheap one).

Harry's project for the week is doing the lilac hedge. It's about 15 foot long, but, with the surprising heat during the day, may prove to be similar task-wise as the painting of the Forth Bridge.

We went to see Treasure Island today at the local AmDram. It's not bad there as their productions are only about an hour, with no interval. T thought it was great, and no-one fell asleep. Afterwards, we tempted their palates with the best Minnetonka can offer - Snuffy’s. Hamburgers and malted shakes all round!

Hotmail Woes

I have still not managed to recover my hotmail account. I am a bit peeved, as, 15 years after first creating it, the nearest I can get now is an email address prefixed with hurra04, which at least makes me feel cheerfull each time I log on.

The hotmail team ignored me for the first week, and are now sending me e-mails asking me if I have done things I mentioned I had done in my original e-mail.

So for now, I am lounging in the arms of Mozilla and GMail, so yah-boo-sucks!

I had my hair done again - it's getting shorter each time - and also got waxed, as it should be summer for at least another 6 weeks. I was intrigued - the "Epi-Lady" had the hairiest arms I've ever seen.

I also had a pedi. Speaking to my mate Andrea, we weren't sure if a pedicure is actually quite classy, or everso slightly common. While I make up my mind, my toe-nails are a dark purple, which, obviously looks as if I have either dropped a plank across all ten-toes, or spent the afternoon sellotaping raisins to them.

We have 10 tomatoes on our 8 tomato plants. We shall be holding the christening next week.

Internet Shenanigans

I am currently suffering from a bout of Internet shenanigans, which unfortunately are not within my control. It seems that someone has managed to hack into my Hotmail account and changed the password. This means, obviously, I cannot answer any emails. It also means that should you receive an email from me with a subject header "Open this, this is ammayzink" (sic), with an attachment, it probably won't be a recipe for delicious chocolate ginger slump cake, but more likely to be a virus (of the non-piggy variety).

I would go in and change the password, if only the facility for doing this on Hotmail wasn't currently being displayed in Chinese...It currently looks as though my "secret question" is "Tender fragrant grass, how hard-hearted people can trample them?".

The parents-in-law's trip, so far, is going swimmingly. Although she hasn't said anything, I think Marney is quietly impressed that you can buy instant porridge containing sweets, and that my washing-up liquid has a built in air-freshener.

A-tishoo!

Last week was the start of the school holidays. By 10am that Monday I had received four phone-calls all prefaced with "I'm ON THE PHONE! Oh, hello, would T like a play-date?".

We've been doing lots of house-calls then, visiting the zoo, going to the pictures. Instead of Mandarin Chinese, we're actually making lots of forts in the garden, and revisiting Enid Blyton and her numerous insufferable brats.

As T's toe was still in the painful stage, we borrowed someone's push-chair to go around MOA (the Mall of America, dontcha know). For the first time I was actually able to do some shopping there as there was no-one whingeing (as T in the pushie, and bridgjo was at work). Except I had forgotten just how awkward push-chairs can be - especially there as the lift at the car-park does not actually arrive at the same level as the sky-way - you have to take a flight of stairs down.

The zoo was incredibly hot. Again she was in the push-chair (I began to get paranoid, convinced that people were judging my parenting-skills letting her slob in there. Each day's trip was making me put a larger and larger bandage on her toe), so negligible complaining. Sometimes that is good. There they have strategically placed showers on the walkways so that you can stand under and get a light misting. Very pleasant on the super hot days they seem to have here (NO! I am NOT complaining!).

Yesterday we went to the art shop to get crafting supplies for when the grand-parents visit (today). T managed to drop a block of wood, corner down, on the exact same toe, just where the nail had come off.

Do you ever receive a "sign"? Not the heavens opening, streaming light sort of sign, but more practical? Sort of one day, you hear a word for the first time, and learn its meaning, and the next day it's used 3 times on the news.

The previous week I was driving home and saw a woman pull-over on the motor-way with a flat-tyre (tire for my American readers, I'm so thoughtful). I thought "Ho-hum, what a pain to have a flat on the motor-way, (free-way. Oh never mind, this is too hard). So when I later drove to school, I walked around the car, kicking the tyres, and lo! The back one was all squishy (never a good sign). So off I trundled to the near-by garage, and the chap very kindly sorted it out there-and-then for me for $12.50. Extremely handy service indeed (though I am never sure if you are expected to tip that sort of thing?) - so at least my fortuitous sign meant I didn't have to suffer a buckled wheel-trim and the possible ignominy of having to flag someone down cause my phone's dead.

So the stagiaire's now been kicked-out to make room for our next visitors - bridgjo's mum and dad. She said as she left "That room's quite big really when it's tidy, isn't it?". Indeed.

Oh, and as I left the play-date yesterday, my friend said, "Oh, I didn't tell you - the other week we went to a party, and such-and-such called up the next day saying 'Are you all OK? Only Sebastian's just been diagnosed with Swine Flu'". (And in case you're interested, everyone is fine, and it was just like normal flu for the people who got it).

Ow!

Poor T. The first day of the holidays, and she drops a large piece of plastic piping on her foot, and spectacularly explodes her big toe. It's the kind of injury which makes me want to hop and yelp "fnkf...knkf....fnkf..." each time I glance at it.

I went to the Chemists to get some Dettol this morning for a nice foot-bath and the assistant laughed "you know, you're the second person to come in today and ask for it.I shall have to google it". They do not have it here. When she asked what it was for (antiseptic; the smell; the fact that Mother used it), she said "That's exactly what the last person said too". It must be an English thing, like Branston. Though admittedly slightly less messy when applied to feet.

Bridgjo bought our first barbie this weekend. Technically, it is the second, as the first one was off FreeCycle, and is just large enough for one small chop.

I went and bought a couple of steaks today. The T-Bones were "just over a 1lb". Isn't that about the definition of a roast??

T's holiday is up for the following activities: ice-skating, Bollywood dancing, piano, tennis. We decided against the Mandarin Chinese course, as we thought it might be Too Much.

The au-pair was telling us about being at a night-club the other night with one of the other teachers. As they were dancing, a girl stood on L's foot,and made her cry out with pain. Except that in French, they don't say "Ow", they say "Eye!" (approximately). They thought she was being friendly, shouted "Hi!" back, and whipped her off for a dance. C had to rescue her after the second dance.

Pee Ess

The Contact Lenses arrived! This thrills me with the sort of excitement that you can only get from opening a box worth $500. Obviously a slight anti-climax. If only bridgjo would let me spend the same amount with equal gay abandon on, say, Jimmy Choos ("but you don't understand - I need them to seeeeee!").

Sailing off into the Sun-set

A very nice week-end last week-end.



First-off was our first barbie of the season at Isabelle's. John, with all his natural charm as befits a Yorkshireman, informs me my French is still painful - but at least I managed to make it through the entire evening with only one enormous wine-induced mistake (when I describe Tizzy's hair decoration as a magic wand (baguette) as opposed to a hair-slide (barrette), although by that time I suspect even the Swiss themselves also thought I was quite fluent).



Isabelle has a very nice house out in Plymouth - with three ovens, a wine cooler and a dish-washer (see, showing my age. I should have pointed out the pool first). She says it's a bit small for them, but only by American standards, ie they can't cycle around their West Wing like what we can.



On Sunday we were invited out on The Boat. This is a big thing for us, as we hadn't been out on the lake before. these friends have their own company, where, I understand they produce brochures of boats. This means they (or rather the Company) has a rather spiffy "pontoon" ie a wide, three-hulled boat, which, get this, actually has legs which come down independently when you want to stop, and stabilize it completed flat so you don't get buffeted. I'd thought we'd only be out for an hour, but we were out for 4 (more wine), and I even risked a dip (pretty nippy). We went to Big Island out on Lake Minnetonka. I have been told "no definite article, as that marks you out as a Hawaiian or a foreigner". That's the place where all the kids in Daddys' boats go to hang out at the weekend, moore the boats close together so they can run from one to another and, quite frankly, drink themselves silly. Sigh - if only I had been 19 there instead of in Karlsruhe. I think there used to be an amusement park there, but now only enormous $$$ houses.



This week is T's French week at school (ummm, aren't they all?), but it basically implies a week of playing about, as each afternoon is dedicated to a different activity eg Kermesse (sort of school fete/sports day), soccer, fashion show. It's actually her last day tomorrow. Hasn't the year flown by, etc.

'Roid Rage

Having a bit of gyp with my spangly new crown, so toddled off to the dentist's yesterday to get it seen too. After 4 weeks I can still expect to "feel some discomfort", so he's prescribed me steroids. So for precisely 5 days I will be big and muscly, develop a penchant for spontaneously tearing phone directories in half and will insist on being called "Dave".

T went today, as, naturally, last thing last night she pointed out, after I told her about going to the dentists, that she herself had a tooth coming through. Behind her baby teeth at the front. At an angle. So off we went again (she was thrilled - an afternoon off school). He had a good look and said that we're to keep an eye on it, and if the bottom one doesn't come out in 10 days time, to go back and he'll do something to her tooth which I haven't yet discussed in detail with T just yet.

T doesn't mind - she thinks I'll be feeding her toffee to encourage it to come out so that the Tooth Mouse will visit.

He also said her top baby teeth are quite close together so might need "visit an orthodontist when the adult teeth move in" (American speak for "let's blow the inheritance on braces").

I've also had to order some new contact lenses. I have, theoretically if they actually arrive, got a good deal on them. Unusually none of the shops were interested in giving me any discount on a year's supply of lenses, but I immediately got a quote $180 cheaper on the inter-web. Technology is only great if it doesn't turn out to be a scam, of course.

I also spoke to the optician about having The Operation, ie Lasik. He is a practitioner himself (which makes him sound faintly pagan), but basically recommended that I didn't as I would exchange one pair of glasses for another, as it seems to encourage the early onset of "forgetting-where-I-put-my-sodding-reading-glasses-again" syndrome.

Grand Old Day

It was the Grand Old Day out in St Paul (no 's') today, the capital (-tol) of Minnesota, should you have a wish to know.

With immaculate timing they had closed the main thorough-fare into the city for bridge maintenance (taking it all rather more seriously now). We found it using Brownian Motion as the GPS kept trying to send us round in circles and refused to co-operate. She seldom listens.

It was an incredibley long walk along the street of music, stalls and food - 30 blocks it says on the web-site, which I'm thinking is about 60 Olympic-sized swimming pools, or several thousand double-decker buses in length.

There was lots of music, which we could hear, but not see, due to the presence of a small person who due to her inferior age and purchasing power was not allowed within sniffing distance of anywhere serving alchohol.

Loads of food to eat. I admit I was tempted by the battered and deep-fried cheese-curds, but only momentarily once bridgjo had slapped me around the face a couple of times. In return, I almost persuaded him to ask the friendly boys on the Lavender (with a capital/tol 'L') stand for a rather pretty bag of lavender they were handing out....I stopped him before he got too close, and made some really nice mates.

Interesting street though - lovely old (huge) houses interspersed with houses converted to shops. We'd go there more often if only St Paul wasn't such a hike. Lots of Nepalese restos there too - so maybe we can share the driving and go in one evening.

It costs a lot of money to look this good....

Yes, today was the big day. Summer has arrived in Minnesota, no more so than in the House of Bridge, where it transpires this means "several hours at the salon". Bits were exfoliated and expilated as have never seen the light of day before. I may go crazy and buy a bikini (although when I showed bridgjo the one I liked the other week, he nodded sagely and said "Yes, you have to have a good figure to show that one off". He likes to help).

I also had my hair done by a very nice chap called Craig. I always like a man who calls me "dear" and cuts each hair individually. This time my hair was cut exactly how I wanted my hair to be cut last time. Result. I went to a shop afterwards and a lady said "Can I help you, Miss?". Money well spent.

I was very happy to run for 40 mins non-stop yesterday. This is quite an achievement for someone for whom the phrase "Half-Marathon" was an alternative name for "Fun-Sized Snickers".

Isabelle, my Swiss friend, is now my running buddy. She learnt English in Norwich and has quite a strong French accent, except now and again, in broad Norwichian she'll say something like "'Ang on, I just need a pee".

The meal the other night was a great success. I always gauge it by how much was left at the end (just enough for Mr Manners). The kids behaved too - at one point all eight were sitting on the one two-seater settee watching The Mummy.

Chops Away!

We're having people round tomorrow. this is a first for us in a long time, as, because of the rate we move, socialising generally necessitates the purchasing of spare plates and several pieces of furniture.

I am doing an Indian Feast. Slightly scuppered by the fact that I can't find any lamb ("Well, I give give you these two chops") for a lamb spinach dish, and also that there seems to be very few Indian shops where I get get the pudding from (Gulab Jamun). I've had to use beef instead - which doesn't have quite the same texture, and I'll also do chicken biryani, tandoori (without the lurid food colouring), tomato prawn-y thingy, and something with a rather sad aubergine I discovered in the salad drawer.

I've also got a few bottles of wine (2 expensive ones, then the rest tapering off as the evening wears on), and Indian beer.

Slightly concerned that there will also be about 8 children, who will have to sit in the West Wing on the floor with pizza.

I may send bridgjo off to Ikea first thing....

Comedy - Minnesota style

Last night we went to see a comedy show at the Dudley Riggs Comedy theatre. Called "How Minnesotans make love" - it was very funny indeed; a hoot, if you will. They covered all aspects of lurve, apart from fore-play, which apparently in Minnesota means "taking off your parka".

And somebody told me a good definition of the weather here today : there are two seasons in Minnesota - Winter and August.

Pancake Mixes - What is the Point?

The standard recipe for pancakes is flour, eggs, milk.

A couple of weeks ago I bought a pack of Lunds and Byerlys Pancake mix. I couldn't help it, it was on offer. Quite frankly, if they offered me a lemon-iced squid with arugula tabbouleh, I would probably be tempted. (n.b arugula apparently is a type of lettuce, not a contemporary of Julius Caesar. Or possibly, it's the brother of Chipotle).

And to this one has to add: 1 egg, milk, butter.

And then it tasted like crap. Sorry, but it did. It was truly nasty. 0g Trans Fat though, as if that makes a difference ("trans fat" is very almost an anagram of "naff taste").

Next Monday they will be doing an aerial bombardment of the local Gypsy Moth population. Although not dangerous to humans, they have said we need to stay indoors with the windows shut, then to wash down the outside area afterwards. Now, bit of a contentious issue this, but I'm not sure that our host country has had that much success historically with aerial chemicals. I've asked bridgjo if we can be away that week-end....



Two ducks have moved in. In spite of there being a pond across the road, they like nothing better than to steal the squirrels' sweet-corn, and to squabble over the tiny bird-bath. It's quite amusing to see them both perched in there at the same time, quacking contentedly like an old married couple sitting in their car at Morcambe and watching the sea.

Nuts to Money!

This is a shameless attempt to win a Kindle from Pertuity , so here goes:

My idea if I was given $25,000 dollars would be to set up a web-site to provide and handle a Cashless Scheme for Minnesota. Based on the idea of the informal baby-sitting circles, people would be able to barter and trade tokens (sometimes called nuts) for Talents. Eg 1 hr of baby-sitting = 1 car-wash.

In effect, it would be setting up a digital bank, allowing people to use artificial currency to provide and pay for services.

This anonymous money can be seen as a tax-free way of exchanging currency, whilst benefiting and supporting the local community.

Services would have to be vetted, and would not be allowed to be advertised anoymously so as to preserve what is the naïve base of the entire system.

People would be able to earn "money" doing what they do best, whilst knowing they were helping out others.

A sort of financial Nirvana, without the heavy rock music.

The Right to Bare Arms

The more I think about it, the more I reckon the Second Amendment was in actual fact tentatively suggested by a dyslexic Minnesotan in the mistaken belief it may have guaranteed him a couple of warm days each year. Whatever, the day hit a heady 48 degrees, so I was out there in a t-shirt.

Last night I was awoken by gun-fire. Thought maybe it was fire-works, but nooooooo. I wouldn't have thought there would be that much huntin' around here. In fact, I overheard some sound advice in Famous Dave's the other night "...so I never hunt anything that can hunt me back.....".

Reassuringly though, the Connecticut Senate on Thursday approved a measure that would ban children under 16 years old from handling or shooting machine guns. Super.

I have had my permanent crown put in. He showed it me beforehand and it looked unnervingly (root-canal joke) like a real tooth, and put me in mind of where they used to get the teeth from for false sets during the 1800s. And it feels exactly like the old tooth - all the imperfections and everything - almost as if he'd whipped the old one out and just gave it a polish and popped it right back in again. I'd have the other one I need doing too - but unfortunately my insurance won't pay for it. Ya' in America now, Buddy!

Worry, worry, worry....

1. Will I catch swine flu?
2. Do I have any money at all to spend on make-up?
3. Is it considered ill-mannered to approach someone and ask "So why did you refuse to be my friend on Facebook, then?".

It is raining here, and I am over-run with hostas. They are beginning to move triffid-like closer and closer to the house. One tulip is about to bloom. I shall have to run out with a camera when it does, as it is the only one of fifty. The daffodil of two weeks ago was obviously too terrified to do anything else apart from sprout 2 Cm, then shrivel. The daffodil show is on this week-end - so I will drag the family off to join the purple-hair-rinsed populace, so we can benefit from a little floral colour.

There's been a falling out between myself and the raccoon. He gave me a very reproachful look last night, as he tossed the asparagus stalks about - he plainly missed his cat-food. I think he has forgotten he is a scavenger (although they sometimes also have rabies). In French they are called raton laveur - Wash-Rat - as they like to clean their food before eating it. Obviously a very picky sort of scavenger, then.

The radio here is excellent - loads of choice. In Switzerland I just listened to World Radio Switzerland, both because I'm very lazy and can't be doing listening to high-speed radio-French (second only to high-speed cartoon French and Molière in my list of "French I could do without"), and also so I could listen to my mate Rachel and get advice on child-rearing without admitting I need it. Oh and also to listen to "Pete on the Beat" (apparently, though this might be a fib) his real name is Warren. But I expect a show called "Warren in his Sporran" wouldn't quite conjure up the right image for radio).

Here I listen to either The Current, which plays a very pleasing mix of music a hip parent can listen with their kids without seeming too sad, and KFAI (KFAI Fresh Air Radio - Radio without boundaries), which plays music from Louisiana, the 50s, anything scratchy and a bit of ukulele. KFAI is run by volunteers and I suspect you can just turn up with your own record collection (Bucks Fizz, anyone?) and the right attitood, and you're on.

And my next favourite thing about Minnesota - old men at the supermarket employed to pack and carry your bags to the car, who then say "It's raining, you get in and I'll load the trunk for you".

Better than Tesco's.

Teenagers!

Bridgjo has decided to get into practice for when T is a teenager. So far, with regard to our stagiaire, he has said:

1. Have you seen the state of her bedroom?!?
2. All she does is eat, then go upstairs. We never see her!
3. Do you know she came in at 10 past 3 last night?
4. If she leaves that door unlocked again, I'm taking her keys off her.

It all seems rather familiar......

Coals to Newcastle

Great weather the last couple of days - it's super to feel the breeze on bits not normally out and about.

On my run this evening I noticed this big red truck outside a neighbour's house. It was there to drop off a snow machine.

And I have finally got my replacement product from Lush. I'd bought some shower gel about 6 weeks ago now, which turned to be pure water when I got home and opened it. I complained to the US, but they "didn't get my e-mail" (I've never trusted computers), so I sent an e to the UK branch, who then got the US to call me, who then sent me a parcel full of goodies. Except it didn't arrive and someone else, it turned out, signed for it. So they sent another parcel. Ditto.

Somewhere I have a neighbour who is perfectly rotten but who smells really rather nice. Anyway, I am English, and Do Not Give Up (unless I am playing cricket), so called them again this morning. This time she drove around, and voila, a nice replacement (bigger) bottle and a little gift-wrapped present of promised goodies.

Tonight we bathe, whether we need it or not.

Today was T's parent-teacher meeting. Very pleased, as I was rather concerned her refusal to speak French would mean her having to redo Kindy, but she is going up to 1st Grade (even though, obviously, she is still an ickle baby to me). The teacher said her maths was great, as she can do subtraction up to 10 in her head (ummm, yes....), and that her cursive-writing (yes, really) was already as good as the first-graders.

They are not reading yet in her class - the French way is to start with syllables. What they emphasise more at this point is their ability to communicate (so, for instance, they take photos of the child and put them in a little wallet, and get the child to describe each photo, writing it down for them and putting it in the same sleeve. Makes for better reading than Twilight), and developing their verbal skills. So you want your child to read at five, or hold a coherent conversation? - our decision is made.

PS I am trying to promote my blog (see one of the sites here: Blog search directory). I have been a bit dubious of web-sites since I joined Facebook and saw "Rachel-E. Hurley has no friends"), so we'll see.

Book critic

So the stagiaire's arrived. She's very sweet, and tends to spend all her time in her room, scurrying mouse-like each time she hears a loud noise (ie frequently). Bridgjo managed to winkle her out of her room last night, and they spent a mutually enjoyable evening (apparently) improving each other's second language.

I went off to Town (someone else drove) to go to the Book club for the first time. I think I upset one or two, as they are all a bit younger than me, and very into Twilight, one of their previous books (yes, it's one of those book-clubs, although the wine seemed to be rationed, and there was no male strip-tease. Damn'). They asked me what I thought, so I said it was poorly written, atrocious grammar, obviously it had never been copy-read, and as tedious as taking tea in an old people's home, without the benefit of the distraction of a ticking clock. One of the girls piped up nervously "Well....you're entitled to your opinion".

T has parent-teacher conferences at school this week, so we have Thursday and Friday off. You would think that it could have dove-tailed nicely into a long Easter week-end instead. But, then, the weather is in the high 70s at least for today and tomorrow (and probably snow next week). We planted pansies...I feel so grown-up.

Full Cavity Search

Alas, my age is now truly showing. And I am now the nervous possessor of my first crown. T was a little more optimistic than I about this news, not surprisingly for someone who wants to be a princess when she grows up.

It didn't hurt in the least, but I do not recommend the laughing gas. I would be dreadful in any night-club nowadays, as it took the dentist about 3 seconds to talk me into this (albeit, legal) drug. For anyone who's not tried it before, don't. It makes you feel tipsy, and not at all giggly. There was a time (about 19) when if you'd told me I could be flat on my back, drunk, in room full of strangers, and no-one would have tutted at me, I'd have looked from left to right, and leant forwards. Not nowadays.

I didn't like the way my mouth was propped open for 3.5 hours (except for 20 mins, when he said "We'll just give your mouth a rest now for a while", and they obviously all buggered off to lunch). I had video glasses (very Logan's Run, but without the need to top myself), so watched Shallow Hal, all the way through for the first time. I also wasn't too keen on hearing one of the nurses whisper to another "Well, she is English....".

Tomorrow we take possession of our stagiaire - the French girl who will be staying with us for the next 10 weeks. Worryingly, looking at her CV, I see she actually has more in common with bridgjo than I do (saxophone, tennis etc). Well, it'll improve his French.

Building Bridges

I finally gave up today trying to find a parking space close to the door of the gym, and instead decided to go for a bike ride.

There are two reasons I have never faded away whilst on a manic fitness regime:

1. I get hungry afterwards, and although I will cheerfully nod a brief hello to the fruit-bowl, that's only because it's on the way to the crisps. The training mantra for the Olympic Team, alas, has never been "Train hard! Eat lard!"; and
2. I get knackered afterwards, so instead of expending every-day chore energy in addition to the exercise, I normally nip upstairs for a Nanna-Nap instead.

Powered up by a bacon-buttie, I went off on the bike trail down to the Midtown Corridor.

Minnesota has a bit of history when it comes to bridges and their rebuilding. There's very little about this particular set on the internet, and bridgjo got very James-James on me because of its proximity to Town. It was "beautified" recently in response to the fact that it was a disused train-track bordered by disused oil refineries and mills, which encouraged broken windows, gun-crime and general naughtiness.

There's a pretty good chance I won't go there again, and instead turn right to Lake Minnetonka instead, which after all has a cafe.

However, it's quite intriguing. In the early 1900s they decided there were far too many rail-road-crossing-related deaths (too many hyphens?), so they put up 37 bridges, each about 200 yrds apart, one for each tiny street which crosses it. With amazing foresight they removed the track whilst building work was in progress, and, for wont of supporting HTML to say otherwise, it seems they then failed to put it back. Problem solved.

All the bridges were poured in place, and there was a bit of a problem with quick-sand. And unfortunately that seems to be all there is to know.....one of those things you should see when you're here, a bit like the lawn-mower museum in the UK.

In spite of the two bike pants, and the Gel-tech seat, I am suffering from Biker's Bum though tonight, alas.

I have spoken to the Lawn Nazi across the way (OK - Jerry) (oh, just realized). I asked his advice about lawn-upkeep - he seems very nice, and does not seem too upset that the council did actually dig up his lawn last week (I hid).

And Brian came round to sort out the garden for summer - I now have about 50 bin-bags to dispose of. Luckily for $70 a year, Randy's will come and pick them up for me.

Go back to Canada!

I have been reviewing swimming in the lakes here, as I noticed in Switzerland there were lots of rats around (well, I guess "lots" as I actually saw two), and am a bit wary of disease. Plus the lakes here do seem to be full of boats during the summer, i.e. lots of oil and sewerage.

But, it seems that Minnesota takes this as least as seriously as I do, with slightly less righteous anger against vermin. Their aims are to:

• Fence swimming beaches to exclude geese
• Relocate adults and young out of state during the molting season
• Prohibit feeding of geese on swimming beaches
• Herding geese off of beaches with trained border collies
• Pick goose dropping off of beaches daily

Geese - slightly more endearing than rats, plus the added entertainment value of border collies.

I was speaking to a chap in the hot-tub today (very "Housewives") who told me that the best place for out-door swimming can be found in the lakes on the border with Canada. Obviously the geese must be trying to keep away from there...

Happy Easter!

It has been a beautiful weekend. About 52 degrees; a temperature at which you feel compelled to cast off the down, and maybe even don a light sweater.

Yesterday we went to the Lowry Center and had great fun in the feeble sun-shine doing a treasure hunt. There was a short course in the woods, which T hared around, searching for hidden bags filled with pebbles - once she had collected eight, she could trade them for a bag of cereal or an orange (very health conscious). They were extremely tricky to find, hidden as they were in tree trunks and under leaves. They also had a small petting-zoo (with some fat rabbits, extremely stunned chickens).

Today's event was at Linden Hills, where there was a snack for the kids, with a puppet show, followed by an Ester Egg Hunt. This was slightly more traditional in that there were (it seemed) hundreds of plastic eggs hidden around the play-ground by the Community Centre, which were filled with small sweets.

I have rarely seen T run quite so fast, and she used her elbows admirably. We are very proud.



She wanted to take the bunnies home.

Linden Hills is a great area; I'd be quite happy to live there. Nice vibe to it, and loads of restaurants. We ate at a French restaurant today, and I appreciated the real tuna steak in my Salade Niçoise (yesterday, when I had it too, it was still in a cylindrical shape, perched on top of a pile of wilted greens). Purple potatoes too.

And another thing

Whilst I was in T's class today, I had to take umbrage (silently; I am, after all, English) at her English teacher. To explain, she's quite lucky in that Wednesday is not a holiday, like most other French and Swiss schools, but is actually taught in English. I always make sure, pushy-mummy that I am, I glance at the walls to check the words they are working on this week. The list today, was "Words rhyming with 'all'":

All
Fall
Ball
Hall
Gall (running out of the alphabet at this point)
Stall
Doll

I shall have to have (well-enunciated) words...

Hair today...

Yes, it is indeed the time of year a young man's fancy turns to spring, and a girl's more prosaically to "Well, what can I spend his money on now?"

In my case I have decided yet again to go short (hair, obviously). It is all a contrived plot on my part to get fit. I've got the clothes (too much spent in REI), the hair style - now I just need to fan the hidden flame of the desire for aching bones so I can actually be bothered to use that membership at the health club. I cannot find it in myself to criticise Americans, but you know, it really bugs me when all the parking spaces have been taken up closest to the entrance at the gym....

A little bit wary when I got at the hair-dressers, where I was greeted with "Have you come to have your hair cut? We are sooooo excited!". I am assuming here that this mad person actually worked there. At least, she brought me a cup of coffee when I said "Er. Yes. Tea?"

I had my teeth checked on Tuesday. As bridgjo mentioned, it's a bit like waterboarding (which I am reliably informed is something harsher than water-skiing), as they no longer use the "public spittoon" but insert a vast array of hard-ware into your mouth for hosing out, and sucking up. Quite unpleasant. I now have sparkly teeth - although she told me I drank too much tea (as if).

I went to T's school today to sit in with the class. One of the songs they sung was Savez-vous plantez les choux?) (do you know how to plant cabbages - quite a serious French subject, and not to be mocked). As you can see from the link, the idea is that the children learn parts of the body, by tapping fingers, knees, elbows, feet etc on the ground as they pretend to plant the cabbages. Great hilarity (bearing in mind they are 5) ensued when the prof asked "What shall we plant with?", and they all suggested "Ventre! Fesses!". Not really one for the video library.

PS I am having geek-type fun with the labels on my posts - they are used to identify the adverts placed at the side. I am starting to enter words just to see what comes up. See it as evidence of my puckish sense of IT humour.

Minnesota Weather, Part 365

Well, this is the view this morning from our back-room. Yesterday spring, and a "quite warm for the time of year, fancy a cup of tea?" sort of day, and suddenly (can you use "suddenly" when it's happened twice in one week?) another 4" snow. I checked on my one solitary daffodil yesterday, and it was looking decidedly peaky.

I don't hold out for much in the way of success this year with my tomatoes etc. I have the front-room set up like a drugs farm (but no need for extractor fans) with little seedlings sitting over heat vents, and a paddling pool full of potted plants (incidentally, we don't use that wing of the house much). However, the other night I was working away in my study, when there was a huge commotion outside. Two raccoons sitting next to the French windows having a row (or something). What with them, and the day-shift of rabbits and squirrels, there is the possibility that it will not thrive.

T thinks that if we set up an actual cafe on the decking for them, they may be distracted enough. Except that the raccoons (or rats) have already started nibbling through that too.

This last picture was taken a few weeks ago when the lakes were still frozen. The ice has all melted now (well, at least yesterday it was). I am beginning to cultivate friendships with people who have boats, although I was told it gets completely rammed at the weekend on Lake Minnetonka.

Syrup from Sap

We decided in the end to go to the Arboretum yesterday. As it was the pancake breakfast, it meant we did not have to pay the entrance fee. We should really become Friends, we go there that often....but then again we can get free passes from the library.

The breakfast was very popular - as many as you could eat (about 3 as it turns out, as they were the thick, fluffy variety), chickens sausages and lashings of syrup. I was mentioning to a friend of mine (American) last week that it was a bit odd for us to see people pouring maple syrup over their bacon. "Urgh!" she agreed, "That's disgusting! It's not bad on sausages though....".

It was a nice bright, tingly sort of day, so it was actually getting quite warm by the time we decided to see the maple tapping. It's very intriguing - they put metal taps into the maples (about an inch in), and then link them all to one enormous central hose which then leads to the syrup house. So overhead, in this wood are all these reticulation hoses. Prime syrup-gathering times are when it's below freezing at night, and above during the day (so most of the year, then). This means the sap actually freezes in the pipes, as it is about 97% water, 3% sugar. It's then boiled down; 40 gallons (I think) gives about 1 gallon (or cup, I can't remember - I was getting a bit high on the fumes by this point) of syrup. Apparently up in Alaska (and, obviously, the Ukraine), they make syrup out of birch.

After that we had a nice amble about the grounds, and then went to the potato exhibition at the children's centre there. T potted the smallest potato I have ever see (pea-sized), made potato-print pictures, coloured in a potato, and made some potato snacks. There was a bit of a theme.

We have just been experiencing the famous "Minnesotan fake spring" as tomorrow it is forecast 6 inches of snow. My poor little daffodils are only just nervously peeking their little heads out, and now they'll get frost-bitten. I saw on the local Daffodil Club web-site that they are actually considered a summer flower here.