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.

Water, water...

There's an awful lot of water about at the moment - but luckily for us we are quite high up, and far enough away to be able to breathe a sigh of relief. Not a nice time of year to be flooded out though - day-time temperatures are still below freezing. The snow melted very efficiently within a couple of days, without the customary (for us Brits) slush and fog. Rather it just melted into water (obviously) and then ran off. Unfortunately for the Red River area, they are cursed with a north flowing river which took this run-off and attempted to move it northwards - the way of which, of course, is blocked by yet more ice and snow, it being within coyote-tossing distance of the North Pole an' all.

T and bridgjo will today be going to see some maple-tapping at the Arboretum. Whilst I, naturally, will be recovering from yet another virus. This one had me in Urgent Care once more, where it was suggested with my next visit I could qualify for a set of crystal glasses. I experienced 2 litres of saline and an unexpected spasmed vein (not recommended). I am quite cheerful again, so don't send flowers just yet. Bridgjo is convinced that I actually can contract diseases orally. No, not by snogging, but rather by talking about it. I have only to hear that someone got up that day feeling slightly squiffy, and, lo, within the hour I am running a temperature and asking to whom I should leave the spoons.

T's French is coming on in leaps and bounds. She told me today "I did some bon travail today, Mummy". She does extra French twice a week before school, and loves to take things in to show her teacher. Picture the look on a French woman's face when I told her this week that T had brought in her pet asticot to show her.

We'd gone for a bike ride last week and found these intriguing seed-pods. When we got them home, and opened them, we found that were actually home to a sort of larvae. T naturally wanted to keep one as a pet. It lasted about an hour before it very obviously died (by turning a rather disturbing darker shade) - I wanted to replace it with a piece of basmati, but realised that T might rumble me. Anyhow - it was this she took in to show her teacher this week.

She had a pyjama (pajama?) day on Friday - the last day of school for a week. More of a pyjama and thermals day actually, but the kids think it's hilarious.

She has also completed a little pottery course at school. It's a little different from the one I did at Gladstone pottery when I was about 10. There, as it took place n one of the five Towns, one of the main lessons emphasised the importance of "How to look under the saucer to see where it was made". They have brought in a local teacher from the Art Centre, who's actually from Senegal so speaks French, and by all accounts it's everyone's favourite lesson. Here's the article I wrote for the weekly news-letter:

Hands up all those parents who have ever said "That's lovely darling. What is it?" Yes, you. You at the back - I can see you! You see, what we, as Parents, have all been missing all this time is any artistic ability whatsoever.

Luckily, that ability can be found in Adama, who has managed to nurture and drag the tiny amount of natural talent any of our kids have and has turned it into an amazingly accomplished show.

Yes! There's a crocodile. Yes! Yes! And a bird!

I wasn't the only one exclaiming; everyone one I walked passed in the gallery was amazed at the flair and, quite frankly, genius that the children are showing here. These are pieces we are all going to treasure for many years to come. And our children themselves will treasure the memories that these weeks have given them.

They have set-up a gallery for them in one of the class-rooms. In a moment of dreadful puns, a troubling side-effect of my illness, I suggested they call it the Pompidou-dou Centre (dou-dou means cuddly toy in baby French). How we laughed.

Can I smell gas, or is it me?

I never thought I would ever murmur "Mmm, five degree centigrade. Nice", but the snow is melting in an efficient non-foggy/slushy sort of way, and the brown grass is peeking through. Unfortunately this is uncovering my guilty little secret of approximately 27 bags of leaves I neglected to rake-up pre-snow-fall. They have now degraded to create one enormous matted carpet, which makes me swear under my breath to Do Better next time. Or just to swear.

On the other hand, it meant that whilst I was out I smelt a gas-leak. When I mentioned it to John, he nodded wisely and said "Yes, a passer-by said the same thing the other night". Anyway - I called the gas people up, and they sent someone round within ten minutes. His "nose" couldn't detect anything, but his actual nose could, so he called out the emergency team. I had great confidence in all this activity right up to the moment one of these "Best of the Best" stubbed out his ciggie in the middle of the road.

None of them accepted the offer of a cup of tea. Odd.

They were there all day today, and although I was concerned they were going to dig up Jerry's pristine bowling lawn opposite, they dug a hole between me and my neighbour's, and carefully re-raked all the leaves back over the in-fill.

And this morning we saw a deer at the bottom of our road.

Truly spring is here (until the next snow-fall).

Spring is here (possibley)

Last week was below zero F, and today was 62. T was amazed "and I went outside today to play, and I didn't wear a coat, gloves, scarf, hat OR snow-pants!!!!!". Straight after school we went to the park to play - a first for this year. We might well get more snow, but today at least I dreamt of outdoor cafes and even managed to shift three bags of leaves (deeply regretting allowing the snow to cover my laziness in November).

This weekend was the chocolate festival - which, as my Swiss friend here says "Isn't quite Swiss chocolate, hein?", but there was lots of selection, and stuff to try - lovely chilli and dark chocolate, and a rather perplexing mango and white chocolate. The people who go every year had it sussed, and took their own Tupperware containers for the samples.

Blessed as I am with a child who can do without chocolate, there was extra for us, and there is still quite a lot left in the fridge (I'll make it clear, in case you think the sugar rush went to my head, and I was kicking people out of the way, it's actually a bit pricey to get in, and the ticket is clipped each time you get a sample, so that you can't lift loads and then decide to sell the proceeds on eBay afterwards).

Tomorrow T has to wear green. Of course she does...Slainte!

Holy Relics

It can be so easy to offend. Unlike Back Home, here people are genuinely religious and fervently patriotic. Both quite admirable traits. Although I cannot quite get my head around a chocolate crucifix for Easter. The company who makes it are called "Abdullah".

Nevertheless, I was slightly wrong-footed when, at T's "How to be a Princess" Tea-Party ("Come and learn good manners, and wear a pretty dress!") at the local Community Centre, the lady leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially to the girls "You know, we are ALL princesses in God's eyes". Which may be perfectly true, of course, but sort of unexpected, and a little bit creepy in a "don't forget your balloon and Gideon's on the way out" sort-of way.

She got to wear her favourite frock and be with her current best mate though, and was hoping it was going to be a weekly course.

All the fun of the fair

So I managed to survive 6 days at Disney.

Bit of a hiccup on the way when we missed our connection (I was told off by bridgjo for recreating a scene out of that RyanAir reality TV program....but I felt compelled to as the plane was still at the Gate). No matter, on the way back we managed to get an earlier direct-flight, which just goes to show something.

It meant we got in a little later than we expected, so couldn’t go and see the fireworks that evening. Instead, we had an early tea (I asked for “mange-tout” and the chef said “Oh, you speak French”), and were in bed by 8. Up bright and early to get to the Magic Kingdom at 8am. Beforehand, bridgjo called reception at 6a.m. for some question, and, as a good-bye, an extremely tired/disinterested voice yawned “And you have a magical day now…”.

We were at the All-Stars Music. Pretty basic, but there were two pools, and the food was OK-ish. A mad scramble each morning for breakfast, and a limited choice for tea, but there you go. I was very English and made sandwiches each day for lunch.

T’s face was a picture when she saw Cinderella’s Castle for the first time. I really think it was, indeed, all quite magical for her. Yes, Disney is over-priced (though not much evidence of economic crises there), yes, it is tacky…..but I’m beginning to understand that that is precisely the idea.

Naturally, the first task was to send the fastest person in the group (bridgjo) to get the FastPasses we needed, and for T to go and wake-up Tinkerbell. She took it very seriously, shaking a little bell and saying “Tinkerbell, come out! Where are you?” (and lo, there she appeared at the back of the shop – quite clever, really.

We didn’t buy into getting everyone’s autographs, as the queues were way to big – instead I stumbled on another wheeze. Almost every Cast Member had a roll of stickers, so T spent quite a happy time collecting as many different ones as possible.

T was up for all the scary rides and adored The Haunted House as much as the Adventures of Pooh. Pirate is still a favourite, and Lilo and Stich seems to have been recycled from another film (I think maybe Gremlins?). There were some ingenious “interactive” shows with Monsters Inc and the Turtle out of Nemo. Really quite clever.

We did a park on each day, with Epcot second on the list. I love its naivety, and, bridgjo tells me with Internet authority, it was Walt’s favourite park. It probably has changed very little since the 1950s, apart from the technology of the rides, and quality of the food.

I like Hollywood Studios (MGM). I think the back-lots are great, and the Muppet show is still going strong. We all went on the Tower of Terror, and T’s post-card home rea “I went on the Tower of Terror. I held Mummy’s and Daddy’s hands so tightly I left nail-marks”. Yet she was giggling when she came off, and immediately wanted to go on again. It seemed to be much longer and scary than we remember, but it is good.

The Animal Kingdom was lovely, as it reminded me at least of South Perth Zoo (but more screaming). The Dinosaur ride must be one of the best ghost-type trains there. T loved it of course, with all these dinosaurs leaping out at you. The children behind us, however, were hysterical. A bit mean, I thought, especially when their mother smiled wryly at us and said “They were like this last time too”. There was a nice pseudo-safari ride there (T thought the hippos were hilarious), though the water ride was too short. Here we got a good bit of customer service when T lost this tiny light-up Tinkerbell clip (actually free with a drink at one of the restaurants). When I asked at Customer Services, not only did they commiserate with her, but told her to go to the shop and pick out a Tinkerbell toy. How sweet is that?

The weather was great. Actually, it had no choice. I was determined to feel air on my arms, and actually ended up getting a very slight tan (already fading, alas). I do find the number of people a trifle overwhelming. It was packed every day, and you really needed to book a restaurant for lunch and dinner if you wanted to get in anywhere.