What a Treat!

Trick-or-Treating has been the order of the day, and evening. The Exiles joined forces with us for this great American tradition, thus two evil princesses and a ghost (with a couple of background parents) set out to disturb the neighbours and demand sweets (candy) with menaces.

Except it wasn't really like that. Our pint-sized princesses were as far from evil as it gets, and the ghost very soon looked more like a Boy with a bundle of laundry under one arm. The neighbours were only too willing to be disturbed, their porches decorated welcomingly with pumpkins, skeletons etc, baskets of goodies at the ready in their hallways. The menaces didn't extend beyond giggles and the odd cheeky 'Boo!'

We restricted the number of houses called on to about seven, and had a lot of fun.

The witchy Girl, meanwhile, eschewed the adventure in favour of watching telly, loftily instructing her brother to share his candy with her when he got back. Was she in for a disappointment!

But in fact the best fun was later, when trick or treaters came to visit us. They arrived in ones and twos and threes, usually with a parent hovering behind them in the shadows. A politer bunch of ghouls and vampires you couldn't hope to meet. Also, with impressive originality, a very courteous cruet set (the salt cellar usually masquerades as an Eighth grader on the kids' school bus). Girl and Boy enjoyed taking turns answering the door, proffering the fun-size Kitkats and exchanging 'Happy Hallowe'ens' with everyone.

It's the most callers we've had the entire time we've been here. It almost seems a pity to move, but we've had our latest offer accepted so (all being well) we soon will.

Toilet humour

American English is a surprisingly prudish language. All this 'restroom' and 'bathroom' business. Why not just call a toilet a toilet? Or, if you're posher than me, a lavatory? The Boy explained to the PE teacher the other day that he was late to class because he'd been in the toilet, and the teacher said he hoped he hadn't been actually in the toilet, which the Boy found hilarious.

A 'half bath', in estate agent (realtor) speak, is a toilet-&-basin only - so strictly speaking a 'no bath'. But recently we picked up some particulars for a house that boasts 'a unique bathroom with "twin" powder rooms joining a tub/shower room'. Powder room? Do people still use that expression?

And yet our favourite brand of cranberry juice boasts that it comes 'Straight from the Bog!' - a claim highly unlikely to boost sales in Britain.

The Man is away in Washington again, so for old times' sake we've put in an offer on another house. A bit of nervous tension is good for the circulation (or something). Actually I feel much more relaxed this time round. What will be will be.

Land of the Free

There is a final verse of This Land is Your Land which we didn't sing the other day at school that goes:

As I went walking, I saw a sign there;
And on the sign there, it said, 'No Trespassing.'
But on the other side; it didn't say nothing!
That side was made for you and me.

When I read it I was reminded of this sign which we saw last time we visited Thacher State Park.


We were rather struck by the prohibition on walking barefoot, because we had just passed a fellow hiker with no shoes or socks on. We'd also seen a couple who had clearly strayed from the trail in order to climb the rocks. The spirit of Woody Guthrie appears to live on in upstate New York - there are still people who choose to read the other side of the sign. To someone like myself, naturally inclined to be law-abiding, there's something vicariously satisfying about that.

I enjoyed coffee this morning with a few of the other Cambridge WAGs. It was good to compare notes on how life is going for us out here - for the most part very positively.

Something like a Dame

Well done Royal Rockfish - yes, the mystery photo is of a wind turbine blade on its way to a massive wind farm in the Adirondaks.

Today we took another walk at Five Rivers, viewed a couple more houses and went to Walmart to buy white fabric for the Boy's ghost costume. He wore this to our first American Hallowe'en party. The hostess was, in fact, British and had laid on a condensed panto as entertainment. Oh yes she had! The mainly American audience was somewhat mystified. One guest asked me afterwards if watching it had made me feel at home. I put a hand to my heart and told her 'That's my culture!' and she murmured back, 'I wouldn't say that too loud if I were you...'

The Boy had foregone eyeholes in his costume, which proved a little inconvenient, but pretty soon he forewent the entire outfit so as to be better able to fill (and cover) his face with chocolate cake. Meanwhile the Girl ran witchily around outside in the cold with her school friends and a good time was had by all.

Wet, wet, wet

Today it rained. And rained. And rained.

A family came to look round our rented house, with a view to buying it. Looks like they might be serious. So if we don't get a move on and buy a house ourselves we could be out on the street come January 1st, which is not a happy prospect.

It rained some more.

And, er, that's about it.

Keep your guesses coming in for the extremely long "nuclear slug" thingy (clue: they come along 3 at a time) and captions for the old sea dog.

Long haul

I went to school assembly this morning and it was the usual good laugh. Also we sang the first three verses of the folk song This Land is Your Land by Woody Guthrie. The deceptively simple lyrics reminded me just how vast this country is. Britain is going to seem awful small when we go back.

I drove up to school through thick autumn mist, though by the time I left half an hour later the sky had cleared to blue again. It's definitely getting chillier now and feeling more like autumn should.

The Man has been watching these going past his office window every day. Any guesses? (This competition is not open to the Man's colleagues.)

Crafty sods

This morning Exile #2 introduced me to the wonders of Joann’s Etc - all your crafting needs under one roof! It’s a great source of quilting supplies and other useful goods, but I’ll also know where to come if I ever require a plug-in Comfy Candle Warmer (to heat up a scented candle without having to set light to it - thrifty!); or a set of Hallowe’en costume patterns for a dog; or a legless Barbie on a spike to stick into a crinoline cake (in Britain you'd just pull the legs off your own Barbie, surely?). I tell you, in this country every need is catered for, even ones you can’t imagine ever having.


As Exile #2 observed, the dogs pictured in their Hallowe’en outfits in Joann's looked pretty cheesed off. Not so our Doggie, who I think looks rather distinguished in this cunning pirate-Pilgrim-Father-goes-a-witching disguise. Captions welcomed if you feel so moved.

The Man keeps going on about the sodding men at work. He says they've done a lovely job putting down new grass around the office building. People round here don't seem to use the word turf.

On the shelf

For a few weeks now I have gone into school on a Wednesday morning to help in the library. Generally I shelve books, but today I was promoted to checking them out and got to meet most of the Girl's class who were making their weekly selections. The 2-3s (it's a combined year-group class) are an eccentric but likeable lot and the Girl seems to fit right in with them.

We were all back at school in the evening for a pot-luck supper and a chance to meet other parents and tour classrooms etc. I have to admit to feeling quite overwhelmed with homesickness during the eating/socializing part of the event. It doesn't hit me that often, really, but more when I'm in friendly but still unfamiliar crowds than when I'm alone.


By the way, on the route to school we pass this sign. In case the words aren't clear it says that New York State has 2,110 structurally deficient bridges. This is not reassuring information, especially because just as you pass the sign you realise you have become inextricably committed to driving through a spaghetti junction of over-under freeway bridges. Someone's making a political point, I'm sure, but I kind of wish they wouldn't.

Faint expectations

It was the Man's turn to get up early this morning. Not to catch worms, though - he had to make a work trip.

I took the children to the doctor's in the afternoon for the first of three Hepatitis B shots. This is a standard immunisation in the US (unlike in the UK) and required by school.

The Girl was typically stoical - she didn't so much as flinch. The Boy did flinch, and bled a bit, but mainly seemed distressed about having to wear a plaster (band aid) on his arm. Can't think why he's such a woose. Meanwhile I had cleverly remembered to look the other way while the doctor stuck needles in my kids and therefore managed not to faint.

We all awarded ourselves bowls of ice-cream for bravery when we got home.

The early bird...

Got up early this morning in order to catch a worm. In fact we got lucky and caught two. The Boy was very thrilled and popped them in a shoebox full of soil and leaves which he then took to school on the bus (the driver kindly turned a blind eye - strictly speaking pets are forbidden on school transport).

His new interest in minibeasts comes from all the nature study they do in his class. They have a tank of bullfrog tadpoles and an ant farm, and they have also watched the evolution of a caterpillar into a monarch butterfly. They are required to make observational drawings of the things they study - though when they were looking at cabbage leaves recently the Boy was clearly focused on the bigger picture. He produced a fine sketch of a lots of chairs round a table, a tiny splodge of green barely discernible in the middle.

The children are also encouraged to draw a frame round all their pictures. Guess what frame the Boy invariably draws? Yep, a train track. That's m'Boy.

Fall - into summer?

It has been another remarkably summery (globally warmed?) late October day - bright sunshine, blue skies and temperatures in the mid to high 70s. An unseasonable but perfect day for viewing the fall colours.

Why do people go on and on about the fall in New England? Because it's gorgeous, that's why. Sure, we have a few trees in Olde Englande and they look very nice for about a week, if it doesn't rain too much. But here there are trees and trees and trees, and they glow with colour as far as the eye can see.


It's all wasted on the Man, of course, because he is red-green colour-blind. Nevertheless, off we went back to the Indian Ladder Trail at Thacher State Park (now spelt correctly), where the autumnal views were spectacular. Alas, the photos we took don't really do them justice.

Having completed the journey one way along the trail, the Man offered us all the choice of taking the lower or higher route back to the car. 'Higher!' piped up the Boy - or so we thought until he added, 'Hire a taxi!'

Later we left the children in the care of our friends the Exiles (thank you!) while we rattled off a couple more house-viewings. One had a great location, but such a weird layout, with the upstairs a maze of interconnecting rooms. The clue was in the listings blurb: 'endless possiblities on the second floor'. Hmmm. Another person viewing had lost her son up there - wonder if she ever found him?

Gotta catch 'em all!

One of the Girl's classmates has initiated her into the world of Pokemon trading cards - guess what she wanted to spend her pocket money on this week? So, a family outing to Target, where she bought a little packet of cards in an excitingly shiny wrapper.

It's all very mystifying stuff. A typical example: 'Once during your turn (before your attack), you may put Marill from your hand onto Azurill (this counts as evolving Azurill) and remove all damage counters from Azurill.'

What does any of it mean? Not even the Girl has a clue, though no doubt by this time next week she'll have a PhD-level understanding of it all - which I fear she may want to share with the rest of us...

Cherry picking

Have the Girl and Boy lost their accents yet? To my surprise, no. Even after two months here they still generally sound like Charlie and Lola. However, just lately their conversation has begun to be peppered with phrases like 'sooo cool', 'awesome' and 'freaked out', and sometimes they do that rising intonation thing - you know, going up at the end of sentences? Even though the sentences are statements not questions?

It's happening...

Yet more house-hunting today, or rather revisits to a couple of possibles. There's another to see on Sunday, but I think we're at the whittling down stage now.

Although the search for a house is at times frustrating, it can be entertaining too. Some vendors really dress their houses to sell - how about this for trying to sell a lifestyle!



This particular house was sooo cool, with an awesome living room, but I was like totally freaked out by the tiny yard and single gar-ahge?

What's the matter? What did I say?

Field trip of dreams

This morning the Boy had his first 'field trip' - a class visit to CMOST. He shared a car with his two girlfriends (thereby hangs a tale...) and I also went along for the ride.

Prior to running riot in the museum proper we were ushered into a room where we learnt all about what living things need for survival, and were introduced to a Honduran milk snake and a box turtle (tortoise). The latter can, impressively, seal itself in when frightened by closing up a flap at the front of its shell. Never knew that before.

We also got to see an animated film projected onto the domed ceiling of the planetarium. Apparently it was about weather, but I couldn't make head nor tail of it . I think I may have dozed off. The Boy thought it was great - lying down and watching telly being two of the things he does best.

Rake's Progress

A few days ago someone from our neighbourhood was commiserating with us, rather pointedly we felt, on the number of leaves that had fallen in our front yard. True enough, the patchy grass and toadstools were now covered with a yellow and brown leafy carpet - satisfyingly crunchy underfoot, the weather still being mostly dry.

The Man joked that he was hoping it would snow soon and we could forget about the leaves, but that was met with a deal of tutting and head-shaking and 'You don't want to be doing that'-ing such as couldn't fail to touch any English heart.

So at the next opportunity the Man set to work with the only tool available, our garden rake. He managed pretty well, considering, and soon had a couple of big leaf heaps by the edge of the road which the children took delight in leaping into and redistributing over the lawn again.

Hence this afternoon I found myself in Walmart selecting leaf-rakes, in various sizes to suit various members of the family. This evening we tried them out, with great success. The leaf piles are now enormous and awaiting a visit from the municipal leaf collectors.

However, the fall has by no means stopped falling. I'm sure the rakes will see plenty more use yet.

RAVishing

After yesterday's environmental blog event I'm a little uncomfortable admitting that today I've been having fun getting to know our new SUV.

For those of you interested in such things, it's a Toyota RAV-4 basic (slightly less evil pollution-wise than the razzier models), with additional seats that fold away in the boot (trunk) in case we need to turn it into a bus occasionally. It has all sorts of entertaining features involving light and sound, hidden compartments everywhere, and more cup-holders than you can shake a stick at. There are even additional cup-holder upgraders hidden in one of the secret compartments. It's roomy - the kids can't kick us in the back anymore - and altogether a far cry from our faithful old Nissan Micra, which frankly we could throw into this car's boot and still leave room for a sofa or two (nah, only kidding about the sofas). Like a Chelsea tractor it's a four wheel drive, but chances are during the winter here we might actually need that facility.


For those of you much more interested in knowing about things that have fallen off trees, here's what was inside Sunday's mystery items.

None the wiser?

Walnuts. So there you go.

Guess not

The Man writes ...When Katie Melua recorded "Nine million bicycles" a couple of years ago, she sang:

We are 12 billion light-years from
the edge,
That's a guess,
No one can ever say it's true,
But I know that I will always be
with you.

Physicist Simon Singh was moved to re-write the lyric:

We are 13.7 billion light-years from
the edge of the observable universe,
That's a good estimate with
well-defined error bars,
Scientists say it's true, but
acknowledge that it may be refined,
And with the available information, I predict that I will always be
with you

To her credit, Katie Melua recorded the new words, admittedly with mixed results.

What Singh was highlighting in his original article was the "growing belief that scientific results are merely subjective guesses". This depressing view was recently evident in the response to the award of the Nobel Peace Prize to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. If I am to believe the comment pages on the BBC, the IPCC are "PC lefties" without any understanding of the basic laws of physics and Global warming is a myth and an excuse to tax everybody more.

The IPCC's role is to summarise the up-to-the-moment understanding of climate change, its causes and its impacts. Each report is the culimination of thousands of person-years of painstaking measurements, computer models and analysis. This is difficult, complicated and important work, done by serious and dedicated people, and needs to be taken seriously by us all for the sake of future generations.

Shiver me timbers

Another fine day to spend outdoors, this time at a 'yard party'. One of the Boy's classmates was celebrating her birthday with a pirate theme. Eye-patches were handed out, there was a plank to walk and treasure to be had. There was even a pirate puppet show. But the really big attraction had little to do with pirates. Yikes!

Although it was pretty chilly, the company, the food and the setting were just great. We were surrounded by trees, from which had fallen these mystery objects. What d'you suppose they are?

Fair's fare

We spent the afternoon up at the children's school enjoying the annual Fall Fair.


The school grounds alone looked pretty fair.


The Girl, disguised as a bear, tucked into some hearty fare.


Girl and Boy fared well at all the stalls and we got to take all this lot home with us. Aren't we lucky!

Nobel endeavour

I was only joking the other day when I wrote about the Man's annual disappointment on not being awarded a Nobel Prize. But blow me, we wake up this morning and find that two of our friends have won one, and the big famous Peace one at that! Neither of them is Al Gore, but they are both members of the UN's Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. In case they should be reading - congratulations, you are worthy winners and we're proud and happy to know you.

More house-hunting today, followed by a trip to a broker to buy car insurance. In the package of paperwork we left the office with was a booklet on how to drive and advice on how to apply for a driving test, which was a bit disconcerting in a hard-to-define way.

As a new car is about to enter our lives, so our hire car, containing the Sat Nav, is about to leave it. Recently I've realised that I can now manage pretty well around Albany without satellite support. Somehow all the pieces have started falling into place. Just as well, as my Sat Nav friend has been having a virtual nervous breakdown. The other day she kept informing me that I had driven into the Hudson River. I told her, look, even taking my past record into account, I'm not that bad a driver.

Tree urchin

Today's highlight was meeting a couple of accountants from the UK for a tax consultation, so that tells you all you need to know about what an exciting day it has been.

Yesterday, after our car and sandwich-buying extravaganza, we had a Listening Conference with the Girl's class teacher. It was very reassuring to know how well this teacher seems to understand our Girl already. At home we hear positive things about school, and at school we heard good things about the Girl and how she's settling in, making new friends and generally doing fine. The Boy has also managed to make an impression on the same teacher. Apparently he marched into school the other day and announced 'I can hear with my tongue!'

SUV or not SUV?

The thought of going back to see Janice again was just too exhausting, so we ended up at a different car dealership where a gnarly old fellow called Grandpa Jed (or something like that) told us his life story, and that of his parents, and incidentally sold us a small SUV. We'll collect it on Monday -the day I'm supposed to be blogging for the environment. Ahem.

On the way to the dealership we had stopped by at an up-market deli so that the Man could grab a quick sandwich. Ha! Simply ordering the sandwich took about half an hour, involving an incredibly detailed discussion of its constituent parts. Then the earnest young assistant lovingly prepared it, layering the cheese slices just so, selecting the perfect pickle... If he'd actually baked the bread it wouldn't have taken much longer.

It was a bloody good sandwich though.

The deli specializes in fine cusine from abroad. In amongst all the fancy bottles of extra virgin olive oil, the gourmet chocolats and vintage salamis were examples of the 'best of British' (Hobnobs and Bassett's sherbert fountains particularly stood out). The assistant was also pleased to show us a selection of chocolate squares presented (as we English always prefer) in wrappers depicting famous British writers: Jane Austen and Shakespeare and the like. 'I'm a big admirer of Shakespeare,' he sighed, throwing in a line or two from Hamlet before telling us all about his acting career. Not that we were in a hurry or anything.

Moving house

Much of our house-hunting is done over the internet, tedious trawling through listings. But today we chanced across our ideal home right there on the highway. We gave chase, but all in vain.

Maybe we need a faster car as well. Or maybe we should just buy a Winnebago?

A fistful of dollars

Columbus Day today, so no school for the Girl and Boy. They had been badgering me for some time to take them to Crossgates Mall, the Girl having plans to spend her pocket money, the Boy because he wanted to choose a winter coat (now there's a turn-up).

So, off we went. The Girl, who had been saving her weekly two dollar allowance for almost two months, excitedly thrust an impressive wodge of notes at the toyshop assistant. The object of her desire? An 'e-pet' - a doleful looking cuddly puppy. It comes with a code that allows you to log on to a fairly average website. As seen on TV. It doesn't move me too much, but then I am not a 7-year-old growing up in 2007.

(I am a child of the 1970s. I found out in Borders today, to my consternation, just how venerable that makes me. A display stand for publishers American Girl bears the legend: Meet '70's girl Julie Albright - NEW Historical Character!)

The Boy managed to select a coat, so there's a chance he might actually deign to wear it come the big freeze. Miracles do happen!

The Nobel Prize for Physics will be announced tomorrow, so of course the Man's on tenterhooks. It's the same old story every year. The disappointment he can handle. It's the hope that always hurts.

Gazumped

Well, we were buying a house.

This morning we were informed that the vendors had received yet another offer 'substantially greater' than the one they'd verbally accepted from us. Did we want to raise our offer?

Instinct told us, no. Nevertheless we spent an uncomfortable few hours mulling it over. Then later in the day we found out that the vendors were now wanting some $25,000 more from us than we thought the house was worth.

That simplified matters. We walked away.

Not to worry. These things have a habit of turning out for the best, and though it was a lovely house we're sure we will find another that suits us even better. The whole business has been fairly stressful, but we are the better educated for it. We'll be having no more dealings with miniature dalmatians for a start.

Housing worries aside, we continued to enjoy the company of our friends and hope they didn't find us too distracted. Before they left we visited Henry Hudson Park. Later on we drove up to Saratoga Springs for another party with work colleagues.

Love Ertz?

Good friends have come to visit, up from Providence, Rhode Island, so we've been enjoying their company today.

When I picked the Man up at the airport last night I snapped this lovely thing, displayed in a stairwell. At first glance I thought it was elaborate macrame, but in fact it is made of 'Chenille Stems' (that's pipe-cleaners to you and me). According to the nearby blurb, the artist, Ginger Ertz, 'hopes that the formality of its radial symmetry, coupled with its soft, organic, biomorphic quality will give travelers something to enjoy and remember'. Result, Ginger!


As you can imagine, I'm now wanting one just like it for our new house. I'm also thinking the 'artist' known as 'Insanely Livid' might like to reproduce it to submit in the next Linton Garden Club Show (category 125: Any Other Craft). It'll win you 50p or my name's not Albaniana.

House-bound

Whew! What a day. I've hardly done a physical thing, yet I'm exhausted.

All day long, emails and phone calls, or waiting for phone calls, and anxious conversations about whether we should make an offer on the house, and if so for how much. The decision-making process was made all the more complicated by the fact that a) the Man was still away in Washington and b) we hadn't had the chance for a second-viewing. Oh, and c) we had to act today. No pressure then.

So finally we put in an offer, only to discover we were up against two other bidders. Should we raise our offer? More agonies of indecision.

We really, really don't like making decisions.

Well anyway, the upshot is, the vendors accepted our offer. We're buying a house!


Whaddya think? I reckon it'll be just lovely once we've shooed out all the critters...

Soap opera

Went on a lovely walk this morning with Exile #2 and her youngest offspring, round one of the longer trails at Five Rivers. How pleasant it was to stroll along enjoying the sights and sounds of a nature reserve without once hearing the whingeing call of Ambulator Reluctans (aka the Boy, who was at school). Exile #2's little one is still a baby in a sling and is yet to hone his whingeing-on-walks skills.

It has been warm and summer-like for the last few days. No sign of this nine-month winter everyone talks about.

As I write now I'm feeling a little tense and anxious. Late this afternoon I got an email telling me that someone has put in an offer on the most promising house we've seen (it ticks a lot of our boxes). Typical. The housing market round here is slow to the point of being stationary, and I go and fall for the one house that someone else wants. So, do we put in a counter offer? I need to discuss it with the Man, only he's away on business and I can't reach him on his mobile. Aarghh.

I'll try and distract myself with an episode of ER. I don't know why I watch it, it's rubbish, but there you go. Call it an addictive habit. For some it's soap operas, for others it's the football season, and for others again... reading daily blogs, perhaps?

Tune in tomorrow for the next 'exciting' installment...

Housey housey

I have received several suggestions via Comments as to the sort of house we should be looking for. Here, in no particular order, are some of my immediate family's requirements:

The Girl would like:-
to be able to catch the same school bus with the same friends as now; a tree suitable for tree-house building; a sledging slope in the yard (garden); a low mantelpiece so that her mother can't keep hiding the TV remote up there.

I'd like:-
walkability, ie the possibility of walking out of the front door for a purpose other than keeping fit; nothing too bland or too flashy; a pleasant neighbourhood; something easy to keep clean (housework not being my forte).

The Man would like:-
a convenient journey to work; an attractive yard; air-conditioning; lots of square-footage so that he can say 'Look how big my house is!'.

The Boy would like:-
a swimming pool; a chimney (to facilitate possible visits by Father Christmas).

We'll have to make compromises (not least because some of our requirements are contradictory). But I guess as long as we focus on our real priorities we'll find somewhere we can all feel happy to call home. Better keep an eye out for a nice low mantelpiece and a working chimney, then.

Oh, and we do want space for guests because we hope friends and family will visit. You will...won't you?

Cross purposes

Another day, another house - this time one which may be promising. I'll keep you posted.

We also had the fun of an international credit checking conference call. A firm has been employed by our mortgage brokers to check with our UK credit card companies that we are not 'delinquents'. So, a three-way call was set up between the credit checking company in Vermont, the credit card agents somewhere in the UK, and ourselves at home in Albany hovering over the Man's mobile (cell) phone switched to speaker mode. There were some bizarrely entertaining clashes of culture as the British and American personnel attempted to interact, mostly at crossed purposes:

Female employee of credit check company: Hello, I'm a cross American who talks incredibly fast, working for Blah Blah Blah Company and I want you to give me information about one of your customers, right now, before you've had time to assimilate anything I've just said.

Employee of credit card company: Um, er, I'm just a very timid British girl in a call centre. I can't understand what you're saying and you're really scaring me. I'm sure I'm not meant to have to deal with this kind of thing... Help!

Cross American: C'mon, c'mon stop wasting my time...

Timid girl: Hang on, maybe you should speak to... I'll just put you through to...

Well-spoken Englishman: Hello, I'm quite posh and have a position of great responsibilty. How can I help you?

Cross American: I'm a cross American... etc etc.

Well-spoken Englishman: Who did you say you are? Well, I don't know about that. Ah, the English gentleman concerned is also on the line you say? In that case I shall deal exclusively with him. Now, sir...

Well, ok, it wasn't quite like that, but you get the picture. Fortunately, for my credit check we were put through to a lovely Northern Irish chap who was all charm and efficiency.

Custom. Car.

House-hunting and car-hunting today. We looked round just one property, a ‘custom’, i.e. designed by its first owner. Grand Designs it wasn’t. Looked like someone had scribbled a few randomly interconnected squares and rectangles on a piece of paper then given it straight to a builder – clearly no architect worthy of the name had been near it. Ah well. Another one crossed off the list.

Then on to a car dealership, where we were looked after by Janice (not her real name, but if you’ve ever watched Friends you may know who I’m thinking of). She had the look – big hair, perfect teeth, immaculate make-up – plus a Noo York accent to die for. She found us baffling yet amusing. The most neutral of remarks from us caused her to throw up her manicured hands and cry ‘You’re funny!’

To be honest she had some trouble even hearing us. American ears are accustomed to a different pitch and louder volume. And when we were audible she didn’t necessarily understand what we were saying.

But perhaps the biggest problem as far as we were concerned was that she didn’t seem to know anything about the car she was trying to sell us. Or cars at all, really. She told us she used to be a mortgage broker (as recently as last week, perhaps?).

She was very nice, though. Poor lady – a car sales rookie, and she gets landed with two clueless, mumbling foreigners as her first clients. As we drove away from the lot, without a new car, we saw her hovering on the forecourt with a coffee and a cigarette, recovering.