As-tu un animal?

It has been a long hard road, but finally we have made it. Between the children and myself, the many hours of hard work and concentrated effort have paid off. At last. We have chipped away, we have niggled and we have wriggled into any gap that dared to show itself. Indeed on more than one occasion there have been tears. But on Saturday we declared ourselves victors! 

We can now proclaim ourselves to be...........PET OWNERS!  
(The defeated opposition? Daddy!)

Oh, yeah! There's no standing up to the three of us when we band together! And so it was on Saturday morning that we walked into PetCo exchanging high 5's and slapping each other on the back. "Show us your bestest fish!" we announced.

I know, fish? But it's a start and the children are delighted. Once we got passed the quite substantial attitude on display from the shop's staff ("You're not planning on putting fish in that tank today, are you?"), we  had fun picking out just what we wanted.

Never one to do anything by halves, Jodi had done his research and decided on a 29 gallon aquarium, fresh water, no stand, and yes, we know that you have to give the water 24 hours to get up to temperature before you put the fish in. (You're not planning on selling anything to anyone with that attitude today, are you?) We chose a sunken pirate ship, naturally, and a faux log with plenty of hiding places (I told you we'd done some research!) and plenty of pretend plants so we don't have to deal with too much algae build up (See? See? They didn't employ ALL the smart people in this pet shop!) Jodi selected a tank which came with a filter, heater and thermometer so we just needed some food and, eventually (obviously not right now, as the water won't have had time to heat up) some fish.

We set the tank up in the sun room, not in direct sunlight of course, and filled it  with the rinsed gravel, carefully washed ornaments and 'plants' and some of the coldest water I have ever had the misfortune to carry about in a bucket. We took the water from the outside taps meaning it came straight from the well before being messed about with in our complex filter system.  I swear it was 6 thousand degrees below freezing outside and snowing, damn it.

The children and I went back to choose the fish on Monday, which had given the water in the tank plenty of time to get up to an electricity draining 75 degrees F. We were greeted by a lovely sales assistant this time, who gave us her very best information about The Right Fish For Us; Yes, you can have 6 fish in that tank but don't buy them all at once, only buy 2 today. No, you can't buy a sucker fish today, you have to let the algae build up first. No, you don't just feed them once a day, go for twice or three times. No, don't choose Tetras they're not as hardy as the Molly or Platy varieties.

So we took a few minutes to have a look and decide which ones we wanted.

A different sales assistant came over when we looked ready. and had her say; Yes, 6 is a good number, of course you can buy them all today! A sucker fish? Sure! Just get some algae pellets so he's definitely got something to snack on. No, strictly once a day only for food! Molly, Platy or Tetra, they'll all do equally well.   

Hmmmmmm.

We did what anyone would do with a bit of background knowledge and conflicting advice: we believed the bits that suited us best. We bought 5 fish; a pair of Dalmatian Mollies, a pair of Sunset Fire Wag Platy, and a sucker fish, mainly because they are pretty (except the sucker fish, nothing pretty going on there). And they all survived the journey home. Phew!

On Thursday, Meg and I went back to PetCo, not to return any dead fish, they're all still eating and pooping in our tank, but to buy a pair for Meg to have as her own. She chose a pair of tiny orange Sunset Fire Platy and named them both Nippy. They too made it into the tank alive, and seem to be flourishing, along with Spit and Spot, and Falcon and Skywalker. Bet you can't guess which fish belong to Finn?! Ole Suckerooni is still hanging out under the log, we think; he's not very social but he hasn't floated to the top yet either ........

The kids are both fascinated by them,  but Finn is particularly pleased. In French lessons, instead of being the only child to say 'Non, je n'ai pas d'animal,' he can now proudly proclaim, 'Oui, J'ai sept poissons!'

 

It's better than telly!

Independent woman!

My darling daughter! I thought things had gone a bit quiet one afternoon.......when I investigated, this is what I found..........."I'm hungry, Mummy!" by way of explanation.  So I see.

For the love of.......

...........CHOCOLATE!

 

 

We took a trip to Washington, DC over New Year and as it is a remarkably long way, we broke up the journey at Hershey, Pennsylvania to soak up some local culture, which just happens to be chocolate!

Hershey, as you may well know, makes these:

 

But did you know they make them this big? (This one's for you, Mutti!)

There are loads of things to do at Hershey World, educational and otherwise. I'd advise you not to ask Meg about the singing cows on the train ride round the 'factory'. She is still confused about how they were taught to sing and who looks after them while they are working........

We opted to bypass the educational and head straight for the delicious. We donned the appropriate amusing attire and licked our lips in anticipation of designing our own chocolate bars.

It works like this: you choose the chocolate you'd like for the base of the bar, and a selection of chewy and/or crunchy bits to go in the middle, then follow your bar along the conveyor belt as it's put together and covered in milk chocolate before being boxed and wrapped in your own carefully designed packaging.

We only made three as per bar they are quite expensive  - $15 each in fact! Expensive enough for some of us to look quite concerned as we are doing our 'Chocolate Factory' soft shoe shuffle!

Happy Birthday Grandpa!

Oh Crunch!

I went to my first ice-hockey match at the weekend. That's not strictly true of course,  I have watched a high school match and I have sat through Finn's team 'playing' oh, so many times, but until Saturday I had never experienced a head to head between two professional teams. The Syracuse Crunch were the home side and last week they were facing their nearest big city rivals from Rochester. Two local cities meant lots of fans from both sides and the arena was full.

Ice-hockey is fast. So fast in fact that if you keep your eyes on the player with the puck, as soon as he passes it, the play is lost to you, or to me anyway. I found out very quickly that the best thing to do is keep a broad view of the whole rink, that way you can follow the play as it happens and not spend the whole game two shots behind the puck. Luckily for me we had seats way, way up so it was easy to watch all the ice at once.

There were a few things I had expected to see, I've watched enough American TV to have picked up a few hints, but a couple of things caught me by surprise. Kissing Cam was one. I don't know if this happens anywhere else but it would appear that during this particular phase, if you notice that the big screens are showing you, you must turn to your significant other and....well....kiss. Everyone knows about the music they play at hockey matches whenever anything significant happens, or just, like, all the time, but did you know that groups of the crowd get up and dance like lunatics at this point? Well, they do. Or at least the group of pre-pubescent kids in front of us did. I thing it was mainly a ploy to get the big screen cameras to zoom in on them, and with the amount of unsuitable hip grinding going on it is surprising that they didn't.

The range of reactions from the crowd took me back a little. There was some clapping and cheering from the Rochester fans, (they scored four times), a lot of gasping and groaning from Crunch fans (after about a million shots on goal they scored once), and a seemingly continuous banging together of the inflatable, plastic sausage things. There was one moment, however, when the entire arena errupted: the crowd leapt to their feet,  they roared, they waved their arms, they stamped their feet, and for a few moments nobody left their seats in search of beer and hot dogs. The occasion? Was it the late appearance of the somewhat lacklustre Crunch cheerleaders? No. Did the concession stands announce that they were no longer selling junk food, only veggies and hummus? No. This is what happened.

Two players collided, there was a stick involved somewhere and a whistle was blown. One pushed the other, he pushed back and it was on. Gloves were thrown on the ice, helmets were torn off and flung, and fists were raised. I kid you not, these two immensely well paid, grown up men from the 21st century circled each other with their dukes up. Then they went for it! Proper fighting! At a sports event between people who were quite old enough to know better! Punching and pulling shirts and more punching.......You can see why the crowd was enjoying it so much, can't you? And the funny thing is, if there is anything at all funny about men behaving this way in front all a paying crowd, is that the unwritten 'Code' means that referees don't have to intervene until or unless the players throw each other on the floor, (which is when the sharp blades they have tied to their feet could inflict some serious damage I suppose), or it is deemed that one of the players has taken enough of a beating. Yikes. It is a draw for the sport apparently and many fans go to watch matches purely for this 'entertainment'. Teams even employ 'goons' especially to fight for them (with little or few penalties inflicted) and a number of fights are prearranged. Prearranged fighting! Now do you understand why Americans don't really enjoy soccer?

Our Christmas.

 

Jodi found his perfect tree, Finn was delighted that Santa brought him his longed-for hat, and Meg found it all so overwhelming.

Finn proudly played a Wise Man in the pageant, Mummy managed not to cry while the children sang Away in a Manger, and we remembered what Christmas really means.

Christmas in the sun.......

and the snow!

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, pulling out my hair!

Meg wanted a dress like her in Tangled. "Like Rapunzel's you mean?"

"Yes, like Rapunzel's"

"Shall Mummy make you a Rapunzel dress?" I asked a little hastily.

"Yes."

"And will you wear it if Mummy makes you a Rapunzel dress?"

"Yes."

OK then. Promise believed, I set out to find out how to make a Rapunzel dress. Now, I have come accross crafting blogs before and love the fact that there are people out there who sell their handicrafts online or indeed their cleverley designed paper patterns (this purple and green dress I made for Meg in the summer was from one such blog) but I was particularly overjoyed to find a clever lady here who shows how to cut your own pattern using just a t-shirt for reference! Cool!

 

So I did. I tried my best. I struggled with the ridiculous fabric they call costume satin, and a daughter who refuses to try on my creations until they are finished, then with a bodice that was too long at the waist and too short accross the back.....but eventually....success. You may notice that the pattern on the website doesn't have the princess kick pleat in the front; that, I am proud to say is all mine.

 

Anyway, dressing up costume finished. My end of the bargain upheld. Has Meg acually worn the dress? Well, I have photographic proof of the two occasions on which she deigned to put it on right here. She wore it for about as long as it takes to get a decent picture, then took it off.

 

I don't think that really counts do you?



 





Please be upstanding.......

......IT'S HERE!

But what is it?

 

 

 

Can you tell what it is yet?

 

 

There it is! You got it!

    



High on the hill was a lonely goatherd...

Jodi says he doesn't want me to make one for him. I just cannot imagine why! I'm having one......maybe........

Is it too soon?

Barking up the wrong tree?

We had a breakthrough last Thursday and it was all thanks to Miss. Madeline. I am talking,of course, about Meg's rather tentative initiation into the world of ice and the skating thereon. We were having many excited conversations in the countdown to each Thursday lesson about how great skating is and just how much fun it can be. then after the lesson there were delighted announcements to anyone who would listen that she had just been ice-skating, what a clever girl I am! But while actually out there on the ice? Hmmmmmmm. Excitement quickly dissolved into a lip-trembling, wooden legged panic with a complete refusal to do the actions to Heads, shoulders, knees and toes. Poor old Meg.

I tried being supportive from the gate, and being on the ice with her but nothing was quite right. I was just starting to wonder whether ice-skating lessons were a good idea for a 2 year old when Miss.Madeline had a burst of inspiration. "Get her to bring one of her toys with her next time." So I did. We spent a week deciding which particular toy should share the ice with Meg - she picked the elephant called Monkey (all Meg's toys are currently called Monkey) and packed him into the car with her gloves and snow pants. When it came to skate-lacing time Meg denied any knowledge of poor old Monkey and refused point blank to take him with her. I put him in my pocket. Meg was duly delivered into the capable hands of Miss.Madeline and stepped bravely out onto the ice. Five minutes later, as anticipated, the lower lip commenced its wobble and Miss.Madeline zoomed over to me with a question, "Did she bring....?" she started.
"Yes, here," I replied holding out the elephant, "she brought Monkey." Madeline cast me a sideways glance but being completely up to speed with the foibles of her younger students (and her older ones but that's for another day), she accepted what I said and skated off to join Meg. And then it happened. The lip tremble metamorphosed into a smile, the wooden legs relaxed and Meg started to enjoy herself. There was the Throw-elephant-along-the-ice-and-skate-to-catch-up-to-him game, and the Let-elephant-ride-around-on-your-skating-helmet game, and the Roll-on-the-ice-because-you're-happy game, and the Drawing-on-the-ice-with-markers game, and the Flying-like-a-butterfly game (harder than you'd think) and generally having fun. Awesome.

Who knew that such a difference could be made by an elephant called Monkey. (And clever, clever Miss Madeline, of course!)

Happy Halloween!

A first for everything.....

.........first time in ice-skates...........

..........first steps........





......first foray onto the ice......

......first taste of speed.......

........and a first ice skating lesson complete......still smiling! Well done Meg!

Finn's turn!

 

Why do you only make things for Meg, Mummy?
Well, up until now this has been the case but, to be fair, my dressmaking has only been going on for so long. I rustled up a couple of frocks for Meg for our hectic summer socializing, but a boy's shirt felt a little out of my league. But then I had a good idea.

I acquired, a little while ago, a bolt (yes, a whole bolt) of the most beautiful wind proof fleece you've ever seen. It looks warm and cozy and is just waiting for you to snuggle up under it. But blankets I thought, are easy, let's make things a little tricky. I know, I'll make it into a fleece jacket - for Finn! Yeah! I bought a pattern, laid out the pieces.........and spotted the problem. The fleece is, by its very nature, thick. And if you have to join two pieces together, it's twice as thick. And this pattern has pockets! I wasn't sure if me and my little machine were up to the task, but with a few minor detours from the instructions and a false start with a zip, I did it!

And then I did it again! I did mention that I have industrial quantities of this fabric?  Well, I thought that if my little boy likes his so much then another little boy that we know might like one too.
I'm giving it to him tomorrow as a surprise. I'll let you know what he says.

Oh my!

A little while ago, a friend of mine gave me a gift. A totally unexpected gift, which is the very best kind, and a thoughtful one to boot. A bottle of wine, yes, but hang on, before you yawn, take a look at the label. Then think about me. Then read the words on the back.

Oh my, indeed.

A medal, a glass and a bottle of bubbly

It was very nearly freezing on the morning of September 30th, and at 4.30am it was foggy as well. A bunch of us had decided back in February that we needed to "run long" again and a half marathon had been suggested. "The Wineglass Marathon now has a half and it's not 'til September........" We all agreed to start training straight away and to tip out in force to run the suggested race. So, as I set off BY MYSELF that morning, I felt very proud - cold and tired but proud.

Corning, NY is about 1 1/2 hours from Skaneateles and a beautiful drive (as I discovered on the way home.) I was nervous about finding the way by myself as I'm not known for my calm, sunny disposition before a race and combined with the enormous cup of coffee I took to keep me company on the drive, my demeanor looked set for implosion before the starter's pistol fired. As it turned out I needn't have worried - the organization was spectacular and the plan B for those of us arriving on race day morning worked like a charm, and there was no starter's pistol.

So, I parked the car, hopped on a bus down to the start, picked up my race number and chip and went to hang out in the local college gym to keep warm before kick-off. Everyone who was anyone was doing the same, eating pre-race snacks and trying to look like they know how to stretch properly.  The main topic of discussion was: short sleeves or long sleeves? It had the potential to reach 60 degrees during the race, which can be warm over 13.1 miles, but if it didn't, a good couple of hours is a long time to be chilly. Hmmmm, what to do? I had decided to go down the "op-shop" route i.e. buy a long sleeved top at the Salvos, wear it til too hot then discard by the roadside, where some kind soul would pick it up and take it back to said Salvos or similar. That way no-one loses, right? And I wouldn't have to run with anything tied around my waist which can be intensely irritating. A no-brainier for me then.

Eventually, I decided to brave the porta-potties, and have one last pee before heading down to the start. I was very glad not to have left it any longer as the queues were unbelievable, nerves getting the better of everybody it would seem. I dropped my bag off at the truck, praying that we would be reunited hassle-free and took my place behind the 2 hour pacer's flag. I had decided to start here and see how it went, leaving myself the option to fall back into the 2 hour 10 group if necessary. My training had not gone entirely to plan in the closing few weeks and I was worried about keeping up. The gun didn't go off and the pack surged forward, indicating that the race had started. The first mile was the usual kerfuffle of falling over the feet of the person in front of you and apologizing for elbowing ribs, but as the pack spread out I realized I was leaving the flag behind.

Now, usually this is where I tell myself to slow down as there's no way I can sustain a pace like that for the whole race etc, but this time I decided to stick with it and see what happened. I didn't check my watch for time, only pace when I thought I had slowed down, and I kept right on running. I hit a bit of a blip at 7 miles when I had done some crap maths and decided I only had 5 miles left to run, then heard one of the water volunteers shout, "Good work, only 6 miles left." Major downer. I allowed myself a 30 second walk at mile 10 to sort myself out and to gather my mental energies, then battled on through the last 3.1. 

I knew I could run sub 2 hours if I kept going but, oh boy, it's certainly easier to talk about it. I had paired up with a lady who was maintaining a similar pace to me and decided to stalk her for the rest of the race. It worked and we crossed the line in 1 hour 55 minutes and a debate-able number of seconds. It depends which site you read but I think the official number was 20. 1 hour (that's the important bit) 55 minutes and 20 seconds. A fine morning's work.

I was so ridiculously delighted with my time that I almost didn't mind not having anyone there to marvel at my brilliance! But being on my own meant that I was able to pick up the rest of my goodies, indulge in a PT stretch session, then head straight back to the car for the drive home, with the music on as loud as I wanted. Awesome.
And having sworn years ago that I don't have another marathon in me, after last Saturday, there is a little part of me that is tempted - after all, if I can run that far couldn't I run just a bit further next time.........

Bats and Turtles

"Mummy, are some people Bats?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, do some people sleep all day?"
"Some people who work night shifts do."
"So they work all night and go to bed during the day?"
"Yes, that's right. It depends what kind of job you have."
"OK. So they're like Turtles."
"Turtles?"
"Yes, Turtles are awake all night."
"I thought that was Bats."
"Yes, Bats and Turtles."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes we learnt about it at school. Bats and Turtles - they sleep during the day and are awake at night."
"Hmmmm. I don't remember learning that Turtles are..........oh, I see. Did you learn about some animals being NOCTURNAL?!"

God love him!

Simply lovely