A moment of quiet comtemplation

I took the children to church today. Jodi was off warming up his skiing muscles with a friend so I took them. Both of them. By myself. Now, as lovely as my children are, Finn is four and Meg is nearly two, which is explanation enough but added to that, neither of them are overly familiar with the inside of a church. My fault. So it was with some trepidation that I undertook today's mission. By myself.
I had taken time to explain to them  both that there are moments during the service when you are expected to listen to the Pastor talk, and moments when you can sing as loudly and exuberantly as you like, and very precious moments when you must sit quietly and let church members enjoy the quiet to do with as they please. First mistake. These statements should have held the word 'silence' at least once. Quiet, after all, implies that quiet talking is allowed - as Finn took the time to point out to me during the 'individual prayer' section of the service. Meg loved the music; they have a band in this church, with singers and microphones and drums, and she joined in with gusto. It was getting her to stop when the band finished that was tricky. There were moments of anticipated quiet during today's service punctuated by Meg da-d'da-da-da-ing at the top of her voice. Then, about 25 minutes in,  there was the, "I think I'm going to be sick" incident.
A bit of background for you: we have never been to this church before. Several of my friends go there so we thought we'd give it a try. At least I did. By myself. Thus you can imagine my horror when Finn went white and bottom-lip-trembly and announced that vomit was pending. The Pastor was well into her sermon, Meg having finished singing was colouring and eating apple bread (bad idea - the crumbs!), and we were sitting about half way down the nave. I stole a glance behind me, hoping for empty pews and a quick, surreptitious exit route but, no. Turns out that this church is quite popular and every pew had people in it. What to do? Call it a day and make a sharp exit? Wait it out and hope to make it to the sidewalk before Finn chundered all over the kneelers? We waited with everything crossed. I did put my coat on and I made sure that Meg had her boots on in readiness, but we waited. After a while, Finn decided that he would like to try his snack and once fed, his stomach subsided and his colour returned. Panic over. I took off my coat.
Then Meg, snack finished, enquired, "Home?" in her church filling, high pitched toddler voice, "Home?" Honestly, you spend that long encouraging them to talk and then they drop this on you! I'm sure the gentleman behind us sniggered.
The remaining ten minutes passed smoothly and the Pastor introduced herself at the door and hoped to see us again. I half expected her to point out that child care is available during the service but bless her she didn't. Finn is looking forward to going back as he wants to go to Sunday school where he can ask theological questions of someone more qualified than I am to answer them, and Meg wants to do some more dancing to the beat of the band. Look out St.James, we'll be back!

Our winter house guest.

 We were given this beautiful Bougainvillea as a house warming present by some of our delightful neighbours. Such kindness! The fact that it came with a list of care instructions frightened me at first, but after having read through them a few times and done some intensive Internet research, I'm not frightened anymore, just slightly nervous. (The day when all the leaves fell off was a particular worry.)
You see, the Bougainvillea is not native to New York but comes from much sunnier climes and thus must be moved indoors in the winter to avoid certain death. It seems to be a delicate creature: it must not be kept too dry or too moist, it mustn't be too hot or too cold, and is a voracious feeder but of course mustn't be overfed. I took careful note of everything I read then decided to believe the web page that said, "In the winter, treat your Bougainvillea with near neglect."

Done.

And it's working, wouldn't you agree?

This I include to let certain parties know that I am finally going to taste a specimen from The Chocolate Pizza Company. We received this fantastic looking slice from some friends as a Thank You. I'll keep you posted!

(And if Jodi thinks he's getting any, he's sadly mistaken!)

Who's up for it next year?

A funny thing happens in downtown Skaneateles at the end of January every year; everyone goes slightly mad. How mad  must that be, I hear you ask, we've seen what they pull out of the bag at Christmas time with their 'Dickens-ing' about in costume and singing all over the place. Now what? Well, Winterfest, in a word. And it is fabulous. A day of beer tasting, wine tasting, chili tasting, clam chowder tasting (get the picture?) with a smattering of ice sculptures thrown in along the way and this year, a dude sculpting wood WITH A CHAINSAW. Very noisy and dusty but very impressive.

  

There was a Husky Dog demonstration, I believe; presumably they had to leave their snow tyres at home as there isn't any, not a flake. And then at 12.30 precisely, the madness happens, in all it's teeth chattering wonder.

PEOPLE GO AND JUMP IN THE LAKE.

Oh yes they do! Willingly. In swimmers. In January.

Of course, I say jump, this year they had to run as the lake isn't actually frozen at the moment but is still tending towards the slightly chillier end of warm. (Last year they had to cut a hole in the ice first, very impressive). so the brave, warm hearted and downright daft members of the village plunge into the near freezing depths of Skaneateles lake and people give them money to do it. Again, not quite true; the money is being raised for worthy causes like SAVES and The Skaneateles Volunteer Fire Department so no-one really minds putting their hands in their pockets. It's persuading them to take them out again in these sub-zero temperatures that is the tricky thing. And boy was it cold down in the park on Saturday. Near freezing is one thing but a wind chill factor of about 20 degrees F below is something else entirely. And then jumping in a lake?

So, come on - who's with me? End of January 2013 - Freezin' for a Reason - you know you want to!

 

 

Jumping in the lake for the required 10 seconds is one thing, but spare a thought for these guys who stayed in for the duration. Hot chocolate's on the house!