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.