Party gifts

The one problem with hosting a party for all the lovely people you know (ok, ok, all the lovely people you know who don't have to get on an aeroplane to come and see you), is that you don't actually get to talk to any of them.  On Saturday it felt like we were just snatching a word here and there between answering the door, pointing people to the food, mopping up drinks spilled by various kids and seeing people out again.  Not that that wasn't enjoyable in itself, but I hope we'll get to spend time with all these friends again in less hectic circumstances over the months ahead.

One set of guests were the hosts of the party we attended at New Year.  At that time they'd told me all about a school they support in the Dominican Republic.  They came across it while they were on vacation there one year, and now they visit annually to help out and take supplies, and they try to raise money in the meantime.  I was impressed by their dedication to this worthwhile project, so invited them to bring some photos and information to our party and we took a collection, in a low-key sort of way.  By the end of the evening there was nearly $500 in the basket. 

Our friends are lovely indeed, and generous with it.

Joe Blog

All that partying yesterday left the kids feeling too tired to go skiing today.

Well tough, we went anyway.  And had a great time - of course. 

My lesson kept me on the Bunny Hop, one of the easiest trails.  But the kids were taken down "Joe's Special" which is a Blue, a "more difficult" trail.  That sounded a bit out of my comfort zone, but when the Boy insisted I try it I rationalized that if my eight-year-old could do it, how bad could it be, really?

Two minutes of sheer bloody terror was what it was - steep and icey with unexpected bumps.  While my son somehow managed to chug down at a sensible speed, his skis firmly wedged in a wide snowplough, I went hurtling along on the very outer edges of control.

But I did make it down in one piece.  Three times, actually. 

Wa-hey!

House Party

It has been a long but enjoyable day.

Up early to do all those last minute preparations that have to be done before hoardes of people arrive at your door.  The Girl and I even managed to fit in our skating lessons, too, before party kick-off time.  There was the nervous tension wondering if anyone really would turn up...and then the first ring of the doorbell followed by full-on socializing for about five hours.

It was a successful party.  "No-Good-Reason" seemed to be persuasive enough to bring around 80 friends out of hibernation for the afternoon and evening.  Guests ranged in age from seventy-plus to under-one, and everyone mingled with ease (no need for any of my contrived questions, after all).  They came from all sides of our lives here:  the Man's work, two schools, the neighbourhood, fair trade, the farmers' market, Five Rivers, 4-H.  We were surprised by how many lovely people we know, and I for one got a real kick out of having them all under our roof on the same day.

So, note to self, we must do this again some time.  But (yawn) maybe not very soon.

Only a paper dream

We've never managed to realise the Girl's dream of having a treehouse - I fear we lack both the vision and the skills for that.  But at least we now have a tree in the house.

The recent burst of party-related creativity has been reminding me of December 1993, when I was living in my brother's house in Oxford.  He took off for a few days, first organising decorators to come in and strip the living room wallpaper while he was away.  Before they arrived I spent a merry day or two decorating the room on my own account, with felt-tip markers:  jolly dancing Santas on the walls, and swags of holly for a border near the ceiling.  Though I say it myself, it looked lovely.  I held a party and invited everyone I knew at the time - a very international crowd turned up.  The guests all drew on the walls, too, and wrote messages in multiple languages.  Lots of fun. 

The decorators duly appeared a couple of days later, as arranged, and magnolia-ed the place.  My brother never got to see the greetings in Burmese and Japanese, or even so much as a holly leaf. 
Whereas you, dear reader...

Concerted effort

Tonight we attended the school's 4th and 5th Grade Winter Concert. 

The gym was packed - standing room only.  4th Grade is so big this year there's a whole extra class, so I guess that's nearly 50 extra parents to accommodate on occasions like this. 

4th Grade strings gave a brief but stirling performance of Twinkle Twinkle and Mary Had a Little Lamb.  To my surprise, there were even a couple of double bassists in the band - you couldn't see them, just their little hands stretching up the necks of their instruments.

Next the 5th Grade strings, followed by a special tribute to the orchestra teacher who is retiring after 40 years of service.  Some members of staff had pulled together a scratch band and enthusiastically murdered Hot Cross Buns and a reprise of the ever popular Mary Had a Little Lamb. 

A little more instrumental entertainment, and then the choirs:  4th Grade, 5th Grade and a grand finale featuring the whole lot (about 170 kids).  There was a wide variety of songs, with an international flavour, and the performance was pretty slick and polished.  Big smiles all round - a good job done by all.

The Girl was whisked off to a post-show ice-cream celebration with a bunch of her girlfriends.  The Boy came home and was treated to milkshake and a mini-muffin in recognition of the fact that, having had to watch the dress-rehearsal that afternoon with the rest of the school, he'd managed to sit through the entire seventy-minute performance twice in one day.

Any answers?

Some more questions we might be inviting people to ask at our fast-approaching party:

Excluding people, animals and photos, what would you most want to rescue from your burning house?

What’s the best piece of advice anyone ever gave you?

If you had all the time in the world, what would you do with it? What if you only had one hour?

When you achieve global domination, what will be the first law you enact?

What is the best thing since sliced bread?

The thing is, I'd really quite like to hang on to all the questions myself and just interview everyone, because I'm genuinely curious to hear people's answers.  But I think I'd better not because if I did probably no-one would ever come to a party at our house again. 

Having said that, feel free to supply any answers of your own, if you're willing to share...

Different states of snow

More snow fell in the night - a couple of inches, which in these parts is known as "a dusting".  However, it looks like the next severe regional winter storm, which has been muttered about since last week, is going to avoid us and dump on Maine and New Hampshire instead.   Part of me feels like we'll be missing out somehow, but most of me thinks we've plenty enough snow already, thank you (especially since we started making our own). 

To those of you who enjoyed yesterday's blog entry: you're welcome, we aim to amuse.  Since there's no possibility of topping that today, here are a few local snow-scene/wildlife pictures from the last week or so:

Arctic monkey business

When we woke up this morning the temperature outside was minus 12F.  Or -24ishC, if you prefer.  If you want to know how cold that is, well, it's pretty darned cold.

But one really good thing about way-below freezing temperatures, as just about everyone in this region has been finding out today, is that you can do tricks like this:

And here we go again.  But remember kids, don't try this at home:

My beloved rather fancies himself as a popular science presenter - what d'you reckon?  Bless him, he's always been a bit of a headcase.

Getting our ski legs

Skiing is a very exhausting thing to do - if you are a creaky old adult.  It seems to have the opposite effect on the children.  Even after a whole afternoon on the slopes they've still been bouncing off the walls with energy all evening. 

It was good skiing today.  The forecast had threatened desperately cold temperatures, which kept quite a lot of people away.  In the event it really wasn't that bad, and the four adult learners who showed up (usually there are eleven in my class) appreciated the chance to advance our skills in a smaller group.  We had our first trips up the mountain on the chair-lift and a lot of fun coming down again on our skis (more-or-less). Though mostly the "Bunny Hop" is a case of winding your way down relatively sedately, there's one stretch where you just have to point your skis and shoot downhill as fast as you can to gather enough momentum to cross a plateau.  Air and falling snow whistling past your ears - it feels great.

The kids also managed to get up Willard Mountain today, and down again, so we're all enjoying quite a sense of achievement (as well as achy legs).

Breakfast at Applebees

We started our day at a local Applebees restaurant, where the Girl's fellow fifth graders were holding a fundraiser.  Breakfast at $5 a head can't be bad, albeit the menu was rather restricted.  The Man and I munched through pancakes and syrup, washed down with coffee.  Our Girl positively inhaled two plates of bacon plus pancakes - not just her own but her brother's too.  He slightly grumpily made do with a glass of apple juice.  He's not really a cooked breakfast kind of guy.

We were waited on by kids, and very attentive they were.  In fact I don't think I have ever been so waited on in my life.  But they were all having a great time and feeling useful, so that was fine.

It has been a cold day, but with sunshine and not a breath of wind it hasn't been unpleasant out.  After our usual skating lesson the Girl had a snow-shoeing adventure with her Girl Scout friends at Five Rivers, so the Man and I did a bit of snowy hiking on own account and covered several trails.  Our favourite nature reserve was looking very beautiful tucked up under a thick layer of white.

Tonight the temperature is dropping steadily, and the next couple of days are going to be Arctic-like, I fear.

Got snow?

Talk about a winter wonderland.  A couple more inches of snow fell in the night. 

The local school district makes its decision about snow closures and delays at 5am:  I know this because it's when I was woken up by my cellphone beeping, and a text message telling me school would be starting two hours late today.  Nice of them to give me such a headstart on a lie-in.

As it turns out, they probably made the wrong call this time.  By breakfast it had stopped snowing, and there was barely another flake all day.

I don't know exactly how much snow has accumulated by now.  Because of the ice a few days ago, it's impossible to plunge a yardstick more than half way into any snow pile.  But if it goes on like this, it may not be long before the furniture on the deck disappears altogether...

DARE to be different?

I've mentioned the school's DARE programme before.  Yesterday the kids in the Girl's class presented essays they'd written in response to several weeks of anti-drugs education.

All very earnest, they were, as you'd expect.  I'll admit I was all for the horrible warnings about the dangers of smoking - nasty, smelly, unhealthy habit.  The potential ill-effects of marijuana were covered in gloriously grim detail.  And then alcohol.  Well, I'm not much of a drinker these days, but I do know, from experience, that the odd glass of wine with dinner isn't immediately going to send me into an alcoholic coma.

I was left feeling a bit concerned that DARE had gone for overkill rather than realism.  It seems to have just been a blanket exercise in trying to scare the kids off everything, rather than addressing the potentially more useful lesson that some things are, for most people, okay in moderation.  A missed opportunity, I fear.

Anyway, having listened to twenty-four eager-faced ten year-olds promising me certain moral degradation and/or death for so much as thinking about booze, I can tell you, even I felt ready for a stiff drink.

Just say no

We woke up to yet more snow, though apparently not the sort that caused the school transportation system any worries, so no snow day today.  But it carried on snowing right through to the afternoon, adding yet more inches to the snow and ice already accumulated. We've got a proper winter going on here, that's for sure.

I have had a very busy day, rushing (carefully) from one unrelated thing to the next: an event at school, a phone meeting followed by a couple of good face-to-face meetings this afternoon and evening, and between times feeding children, helping them with homework and ferrying them to and from 4H.  A nice change, really, after yesterday's cabin fever, but tiring.

So although I've a half-formulated composition in my head about the anti-drugs essays I heard being read out at school, I think I'll save it for another day.

Decking the halls

Yesterday was a holiday, in honour of Martin Luther King Jr, so we had a long weekend.  I'd planned to spend today catching up with myself, but as it turned out the weekend wasn't over yet.  A winter storm blew in overnight and gave us another snow day.  Yippee again (she says, with slightly less conviction than last time).

This storm brought ice as well as snow, making the roads yet more treacherous.  The Man made a brief attempt to drive to work, but (to my relief) thought better of it and soon turned back.  He then shut himself in our home office while the rest of us rattled around.

As mentioned yesterday we've a party in the works, so the kids and I ended up spending quite a lot of our unscheduled day off making decorations - all very Green, using recycled materials.  The house is starting to look rather jolly, and we may just be tempted to keep the wrapping paper bunting and tissue paper flowers up until further notice...

Thanks for your question-suggestions by the way - keep them coming.

Question time

We're hosting a party in a couple of weeks.  It's billed as a No-Good-Reason party, a celebration to help break up the long winter season.  We're inviting friends from various areas of our lives here, and it should be an interesting mix of people.

Now I'm sure most of the guests are perfectly skilled conversationalists in their own right, and even if they don't know anyone else here they will manage just fine.  But I'm conscious that I often find party small talk hard work, especially with people I know only slightly, if at all.  With that in mind, I'm thinking of giving our guests the option of reaching for a random talking point, perhaps offering a dish of them alongside the snacks and dips.

For example: 

What has made you laugh this week?

In your opinion, what book should everyone read?

If you were going to wake up fluent in another language, which language would you want it to be, and why?

If you could nominate a secular saint, who would you choose (must be a dead person)?

If "the elephant in the room" was an actual elephant, what exactly would you do with it?

If you can offer more suggestions that'd be great.  Or answers for that matter.  Or if you think this whole idea is pretty dodgy, that would also be useful to know.

Downhill all the way!

A lazy morning was followed by another energetic afternoon on the ski slopes.

The lessons all went well.   The Boy still takes a few tumbles, but gamely bounces up and carries on.  The Girl seems very at home on skis - the skating and last year's cross-country skiing must help, but I think there's a touch of natural flair there, too.  After the classes we all tried out (the lower slopes of) the mountain and she went whizzing down several times, fearless and joyful.

I don't approach rapid descent as boldly as my daughter does, but I did manage to get down more than once without dawdling or falling over, so I think I'm doing ok too.

Maybe next week I'll see the views from the top of the mountain, but first I'll have to learn to ride one of these.

  

For the birds

Behold the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor do they reap. 

Neither do they clean,  nor do they cook.  And nor do they spend half the morning dragging a nine foot Christmas tree out of the house, hoovering up the pine needles, taking the hoover apart to unclog it when it starts blowing pine needles out instead of sucking them in, then hoovering up all over again... 

No, all the birds of the air have to do is hang around in a tree and wait for us to fill the feeder. 

Mind you, they do have to hang around out there even when, like this morning, it's minus 4F (-20C). 

And another thing, they probably don't get to entertain visitors from the Hudson Valley whom they've not seen for twelve years and who come bringing interesting conversation and delicious homemade apple tart. 

OK, maybe there are some compensations for the human condition.

Pet peeves

I was listening today to a radio phone-in on "language pet peeves".

Interestingly, more than one caller had a pet peeve about a point of language usage that wasn't even wrong, such as using the noun team "as if it's a singular" (um - it is).  Someone else got very irate about people who say "two thousand and three" because "the word and has no place in a number, unless it's representing a decimal point."  Sorry, caller, on behalf of all my compatriots for getting that one wrong all these years. 

I gave up being peeved about the "misuse" of the English language a long time ago.  It's a wonderful ever-changing thing, and fun to play with.  As long as you make yourself understood, use it how you like that's what I say.  I will admit to having been put off for a while by the American use of the word "momentarily" to mean "in a moment" rather than "for a moment".  When the captain of a plane you're on announces, just before your destination, that "We'll be landing momentarily," it's a bit concerning.  But if an entire nation wants a word to mean one thing and not another, then who am I to quibble?  Pants is another good example.  It's only a problem if you want it to be.

What I mostly learnt from the rather entertaining phone-in (and it wasn't short of callers, dear me no) was that people probably shouldn't keep peeves as pets.  They seem to make their owners grumpy.  One woman even claimed her pet language peeves keep her awake at night. 

Personally, I think she might be better off with a goldfish.

Party favour

We had rather a disturbed night, with the Girl throwing up for a couple of hours, poor thing.  She woke up in the morning as fit as a fiddle, but of course couldn't go to school.  So we had another day hanging out at home (though we did manage a trip to the ice rink, where there are so few people on a weekday there was no risk of her infecting anyone even if she was carrying any lingering bugs).

She was so entirely well later on that we decided to make up for the relative inactivity of the day by having a very busy evening.  She had an audition for the 5th Grade musical scheduled, so we got her to that, but either side of it she also attended a Girl Scout event making up "party boxes" to donate to the food pantry.  Several scout troops were involved, filling boxes up with plates and balloons, gifts and party bags.  There'll be a few little kids who might otherwise have had to go without a birthday party who'll now get to have some fun, so that seems like a good deed done.

It's past her bedtime now, but she still going strong.  Wish I could say the same...

Snow on snow

Well, it did snow.  It started in the small hours and fell steadily most of the day.  The children were off school - yippee - and the Man worked at home until early afternoon when he headed out to the office because it looked like the weather was beginning to clear.  But he didn't stay there long because the snow started up again soon after he arrived.

It's hard to say exactly how much new stuff we have as it was falling on the remains of the last lot, but we reckon upwards of a foot by the time it stopped. 

It looks lovely.

I spy...

Word is, there's more snow on the way.  Possibly quite a lot of it, though as usual here in the Albany area we'll be on the outer edges of the storm.  The prospect is causing a deal of excitement in our household tonight, with high hopes of tomorrow being a Snow Day. 

I had to go grocery shopping anyway today, but the idea that we might be holed up (for as much as a day!) encouraged me to load up my trolley more than I usually do, perhaps.  It's a bit like that feeling you get before Christmas Day, the sense that you might never have easy access to food again so better stock up now because you know there'll be no choice but to forage for berries after this...oh, except that the supermarket will actually open again in a mere 24 hours (ok, maybe 48 hours in Britain because of Boxing Day - but anyway you're still going to be able to buy milk at a petrol station).

For fresh-air-and-exercise today I took myself for a brisk walk at Five Rivers.  It was very cold.  There weren't too many other people about, but I did spot a pair of eyes on me... Can you?

HP sauce

Lately I've been obliged to listen to a great deal of Harry Potter on audiobook.  In an open-plan house like ours there's just no escape. 

I've always resisted HP, partly as a knee-jerk reaction to all that hype and also because I'm really not a fan of fantasy fiction.  Elves and wizards - give me a break.  But hearing it going on in the background for many (many) hours over the past few days and weeks has begun to break me down, and I will grudgingly admit it's a pretty good story, even if there is an awful a lot of it.

Most recently it's been Book 6, Harry Potter and the Halfblood Prince - all 17 CDs of it.  Some serious themes are addressed and there are scenes which could arguably be considered too shocking and disturbing for the younger listener.  I've noticed our resident eight year-old's face become a picture of horror at several points in the story:  all that snogging.  Yuk!

Joining the ski set

The main destination of our little jaunt last weekend to Washington County was Willard Mountain.  We went there to get fitted for skis, in preparation for six weeks of lessons.  Lessons began today. 

Willard is a small and friendly family-focused ski centre.  Klosters it isn't, and that suits us fine.

Yay - downhill skiing is fun!  As the Man (already a skier) had always promised, it's really much easier than cross-country.  At least, it was today on the beginner slopes learning the basics.  We learnt to ski very slowly, without poles; got to grips with a draglift; and by the end of the session we were gently slaloming down a slight incline and feeling pretty good about it. 

The real challenge of the day for me came when we went back inside the sparcely-lit ski-lodge.  My reactolite-darkened prescription glasses completely steamed up, leaving me virtually blind for about five minutes.

Forty, a jolly good fellow

A day of snow, shovelling, skating and socialising.

We've been out partying tonight, celebrating with our young friend the Exile who turned 40 today - Happy Birthday!  We had fun catching up with various people, some of whom we haven't seen for quite a while, and the kids loved playing on the Kinect (for Wii is just so yesterday). I just can't keep up with all this technology, but at least I'm not alone.

It was altogether a fine party.

And now to bed, as we have more adventures ahead of us tomorrow...

Ms Albaniana's feeling for snow

It has been snowing all day.  There's some language, isn't there, that's alleged to have 150 different words for snow?  In English we have lots of words to differentiate types of rain, but not nearly enough vocabulary for snow.  When it rains we can say it's spitting, or drizzling; sheeting or pouring; bucketing down. There might be drips and drops; or a sprinkling; a downpour or a deluge.  It rains cats and dogs!  But we seem to have very few really expressive snow words: it's light or heavy, a flurry or a blizzard...and that's about it.

Unless you know better?  Do we have a special word or phrase for the snow equivalent of constant drizzle?  What's it called when it falls all day in sizeable flakes, but not so heavily as to be a blizzard?  We talk about slush, but what about that intermediate stage when the snow, which started out too powdery to handle, melts just enough to become good building material?

Why don't we have more words for snow, when plenty of the English-speaking world (like our corner of it, today) does have experience of the stuff?

Chirpy chirpy chip chip

I've had a happy day.  Not yippee, wa'hay happiness, but the everyday contented sort that comes from fresh air and blue sky (walking the Boy to school); and from challenging exercise (I made it to the ice-rink and I'm getting closer to nailing those fiendish Mohawk turns); meeting up with a friend (for coffee, a pastry and setting the world to rights); a spot of creativity (mucking about with wire and beads); and a sense of accomplishment (managing to finalize arrangements for a fair trade meeting I've been trying to organise all week).

Another job today - Twelfth Night - has been taking down the Christmas decorations.  It's a task I get to do mainly by myself as everyone else deems it "too depressing".  Yes, it's a shame to say goodbye to the pretty lights and ornaments, but I honestly don't mind.  It feels like it's time.  Most of our neighbours haven't waited this long - there have been trees lying out by the roadside since New Year's Day, waiting for the Town recycling service to come by and chip them.

Another way to re-use an old Christmas tree, I learnt today from a bird-related radio phone-in, is to leave it sticking upright in the snow for the rest of the winter, as a shelter for the feathered ones.  I also learnt that it's possible to teach chickadees to feed from your hand - which sounds rather cool - but the cheery expert added that although it does the birds no harm and it's a great way to show off to your friends, it can soon get a bit old being bombarded by hungry chickadees every time you set foot outside your house.

Nature - no place for naturists

It was time again today to retrain for teaching winter classes at Five Rivers.  I spent the morning plodding through what remains of the snow in search of tracks and other signs of animal activity, with a group of fellow volunteers and our expert instructor.  As ever, it only took five minutes studying and observing to leave me awestruck by nature's glorious efficiency - everything interdependent and evolved to survive together in the existing conditions, nothing going to waste.  The natural world is the definition of sustainablity.  How did we humans as a species manage to adapt ourselves so far out of kilter with this perfect system?

On a more basic level, the other lesson I learnt today was "Dress warmly".  You'd think I'd know that by now, wouldn't you?  Well, it's not like I was out there in a swimsuit.  I had on thick trousers, thick socks, snowboots, a down jacket with a fleece under it and a long-sleeved thing under that, hat, scarf, gloves - enough, I'd assumed, especially given that it was above freezing today.  But what's fine if you're constantly moving (snowshoeing, sledding, skiing) doesn't work so well if you need to stand around examining rabbit chews and squirrel stores.  So next time I'll wrap up in even more layers, and I'll also be very aware of just how cold my students (and there's always at least one who's inadequately dressed) are likely to be getting.

Crafty wee things

With one thing and another, I haven't had too much chance to get crafty lately.  I threw together the Boy's natty Christmas balaclava (and he wears it every day, I'm touched to see), but that's been about the extent of it.

But the Girl is often busy in her room hooking rugs or, most recently, putting together these dainty little things - the pencil is just there for scale.  She got a great book for Christmas called Beadlings which I would highly recommend if I hadn't just found out it's now out of print and the cheapest one available through Amazon UK costs £135.  Looking online there's another book called Beaded Critters which has similar-looking projects.  Anyway I was allowed to make a teeny lizard - a bit fiddly but really not difficult, and very satisfying for some reason.

Meanwhile the Boy has a whole year to work on building up a fleet of miniature paper aircraft, thanks to another Christmas present, a plane-a-day calendar.

"My country..." "No MY country..."

Every year at school the 5th Grade puts on a musical, and by all accounts it's quite a grand production.  The Girl will be auditioning soon (for what she fervently hopes will be a non-speaking part) and will be required to sing "America."

You know the one - My country! 'tis of thee...etc.  According to the practice sheet the Girl brought home today, the words are by Samuel Francis Smith and the tune is "traditional".  Yeah, traditionally the national anthem of Great Britain!  We are urging our daughter to sing God save our gracious Queen instead - not because we're ardent royalists, but because it would be funny.  She flatly refuses - not because she feels fervently loyal to our host country, but because it would be so embarassing.

Meanwhile I find myself being drawn back to a dramatic production of another kind.  I haven't listened to The Archers for years - not since moving out here, certainly, even though I perfectly well could thanks to BBC Radio Four's "Listen Again" service.  Anyway, a headline in yesterday's Guardian online lured me back to world's longest running soap opera, and, oh the shock and horror, they've bumped off one of my favourite characters! How will Lizzy cope?  Will David ever forgive himself?  And will the vicar let Nigel be buried in his beloved gorilla suit?

Yes, I daresay I'll be tuning in again...

The promise of a rose garden

For reasons which will become clearer next weekend, we had to make a trip northeast to Washington County. We had never been before, I don't know why.  It's not that far from home and rather scenic.  A lot of farmland, and quite hilly.  It put me in mind of Yorkshire.  There are many dairy farms, and I've heard the local chocolate milk is second to none (maybe they feed the cows on a diet of pure chocolate?  Who knows?).

After trying some things on our feet and on two of our heads, we came home via Saratoga.  At a junction we found ourselves opposite the entrance to Yaddo, a long-established artists' community.  The building and much of the land around it is private and off-limits, but its famous rose garden is open to the public.  Though who would visit a rose garden in January?  Not two members of our party, who resolutely stayed in the car while their indefatigable parents paddled across the mud and last traces of snow to see these imprisoned statues and, er, some more mud.  Never mind.  Perhaps we'll manage to visit again at a more suitable time of year.

The rest of the day has been spent at home, the house ringing to the sound of Jim Dale reading from two separate volumes of Harry Potter simultaneously (both kids are now undertaking their own personal Harrythons, and are at different stages).  It's the last day of the holidays.  Hooray.  Tomorrow the Man will be back at work, the kids at school.  And me?  Oh, I'm sure I'll find something to get up to...

Thaw point

After such a late night for all of us we were happy to have a not too taxing day today - except when it came to filling out my online UK Inland Revenue Self-Assessment form (why do I need to fill one out?  Why indeed?  But I do).  Tell me, how am I meant to "correct" my postcode - in order to be allowed to submit the form - if they won't even let me put anything in that box?  Hrrnggh.

Anyway.

It was surprisingly mild out, many degrees above freezing.  Alas, the Girl's Harry Potter snowman, made yesterday, lost his head completely.  Here he is in happier times:

The kids were too tired to get out of pyjamas, never mind be dragged to Five Rivers, so the Man and I enjoyed a quick scamper round by ourselves. 

Hip-Hoppy New Year

Some guests at the Thanksgiving party we attended in November invited us to join them and their friends to see in the New Year, so that's where we've been tonight and we had a fine time.  There was food and drink, a bonfire in the snow, breakdancing in the basement (for some of us), a flaming homemade figgy pudding (one of our hosts was British) and the strange custom of this land of gathering round the TV at midnight to watch a ball slowly drop in Times Square.  We all had fun, and now embark bleary-eyed into 2011.

May this be a good year for you.