The longest time.....

 I don't know if you've heard, but Halloween round here is a big deal. A really big deal. Such a big deal in fact that folk have been preparing for it since mid-September. That's mid SEPTEMBER and Halloween is, for the uninitiated, at the END OF OCTOBER.

And when I say preparing, I mean decorating houses, purchasing or making costumes, buying "candy", baking - you name it, it's been going on. And the anticipation grows. This all strikes me as slightly odd, and beggars the question: does this very God-fearing country know what Halloween is actually all about?

Anyway, it is not ours to question, just to join in - a little. Acquaintances have responded with genuinely shocked faces when I have answered the question, "Are you taking Finn Trick or Treating?" with a to-the-point,"No." This is probably the only year we will be able to get away with it, so we're going to.

We have, however, done a proper job with the pumpkins. Finn's pre-school organised an outing to the Pumpkin Patch (and by this I mean an actual Pumpkin Patch where pumpkins are grown). It was fun: we wandered about the enormous field looking for the perfect pumpkin, of just the right size and shape, with no rotten bits and as few creepy-crawlies in residence as possible. These were collected and purchased (at $2 a piece) in plenty of time for the children to visit the baby animals, play in the corn, and wander round ogling at all the scary tableaux about the place. I tried to encourage Finn not to spend too much time looking at the ghosts and werewolves and spooky house with empty moving rocking chair and the like. I have one child that wakes crying in the night, I don't need another one!

So, the idea is that you buy the pumpkins to carve or just put outside your house as decoration, along with the ghosts, gravestones, witches etc. This farm dedicates acres and acres of land to pumpkin growing. But the one thing you don't do with these acres and acres of huge pumpkins? Eat them. They are grown for ornamental purposes only. Three applications of pesticides and all.

Several lessons we have learnt from the whole pumpkin episode:

1. Carving pumkpins is fun, the resulting Jack'O'Lantern is very effective (see pictures) especially when enhanced with web and spiders to make it truly scary.

2. Finn is too much of a wuss to put his hand inside a pumpkin and pull out all the seeds and string business - he would use the scoop in our carving kit but not his hands.

3. if you leave a beautiful Jack'O'Lantern in a house which is centrally heated, you will wake up one morning to a collapsed, putrifying mess; 4. always make sure you have a spare in reserve if said disaster occurs before Halloween!

We did attend the Halloween party at Finn's school. The kids all came in costume - we found Finn a Lightening McQueen Pit Crew oufit complete with sponsors hat, ear piece and microphone - some obviously the result of far more parental effort than a quick trip to Walmart - ahem. They ate rubbish for a bit, trick or treated amongst themselves then sang some songs. And that, as far as Finn is concerned is what you do on Halloween. Long may it last.

Master Tate - an update

Finn has started at his new Montessori pre-school. Miss Kathy is his teacher and so far he doesn't know any of the other kids' names. It doesn't bother him at all, not knowing. He obviously feels quite at home. Montessori is quite different from what he is used to. After his first day he came home and said, "Mummy, we didn't do any painting," and the next day, " Mummy, we don't have to go to bed!". The extremes of childish emotions.

Finn has started his swimming lessons at the Y. Miss. Sharon was delighted with him, once she had told me off for introducing her to Finn as Sharon. Ooops. (I didn't like to tell her she's lucky I didn't call her 'Mate' after our 6 years in Aus!).

He is also having a bash at gymnastics. He's not very gung ho about the whole idea really, so we don't know how long it will last. It was all going very well until the occurrence of what is now known as the 'forward roll incident'. Coach Sheree assumed that Finn must have done a forward roll before and was a little enthusiastic in her 'push' down the slope. Finn stayed straight instead of  rolling and thumped down on the mat on his back. When asked if he would like to have another go, "No" was the only answer forthcoming and he hasn't gone back to it since. We were quietly taken to one side last week and told in no uncertain terms that, should Finn wish to continue gymnastics, he will have to do a roll eventually. Yes, Coach! These Americans could really do with a dose of Australian every now and again.

Jodi has enrolled Finn in the ice-hockey program. Oh yes, they like to catch them young here! Initially it is a Learn-To-Skate type affair but they learn to skate in full ice hockey regalia. It hasn't started yet but word on the street is that, and get this for an American name:

COACH CHUCK GRIDLEY

 is a really, really nice man. In fact, Bonnie (from swimming), says he coached her boys, now 24 and 22, so one would imagine if he didn't know what he was doing, someone would have had a quiet word by now! Zachary's mum, (from Gymnastics), told me Zachary did the training last year and loved it. Only difference being, he comes from a long line of hockey players, whereas Finn isn't really quite sure about what ice actually is, never mind the hockey part. He has tried on his kit and understands the skates are "quite wobbly", the rest is going to be a fairly steep learning curve come November.

(And, hot off the press, we received our first tentative play-date invitation today! We have arrived.)

 

From the top, from the bottom, and after the ride

 

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The Falls, the boat and a bucket of poo.

Niagara Falls, the American Bride's second biggest disappointment of her wedding night, to quote my Mother. (I think it's the punchline to a joke - ask an old person if you've never heard it.) We went to the Canadian side which is supposed to be much better than the American one, I think with regards to the view over the falls, it's certainly not because of the tasteful manner in which the town has developed. Suffice it to say, the Falls are spectacular and the town is like Blackpool.
We all travelled up together, all 6 of us in the one vehicle, which we can do now due to my new gas-guzzling-hockey-mum-mobile. (Pictures coming). Derek valiantly volunteered to sit in the very back, bending himself double getting in and out, and spent the whole 5 hours with his knees not quite touching his chin. I took shot-gun under the guise of being able to read a map but in reality caught a few zzzzz's as Miss. Smarty-Pants GPS lady took all the fun out of cross border driving.
To be fair, it is a straight forward drive from good old Skaneateles and we arrived without drama. The Border guards were their usual less than friendly selves and we all enjoyed shouting, "We're in Canada.........now!" as the flags changed colour in the middle of the bridge. Least ways I did.
Mmmmm. downtown Niagara. A big pile of rubbish next to a truly amazing waterfall. Well, two in fact; the American Falls and the Horseshoe Falls. We thought it was raining when we walked out of the tat shop aka visitor centre but no, that part of town is permanently drizzled upon, thanks to the super mega litres of water that hurl themselves over the edge every hour.
We spent most of the afternoon in the water park at our hotel, as you do. Thankfully inside and very well equipped with tube slides and kiddies water chutes, it inevitably had a huge bucket of water that emptied itself on unwary passers by at given intervals, and nearly scared Finn half to death when he found himself in the wrong place at the wrong moment. He soon worked out however, that actually joining in and going on stuff was more fun than hopping about on the sidelines whining, and had a really lovely time.
After dinner, we retired at we've-got-small-children 'o'clock, so Derek and Hazell pushed on to the hotel bar. As to what went on in there we shall never know, but a probably wildly inaccurate guess could be made when you discover that, at 3.15am there was a knock on their door. Derek opened it up and had a look up and down the corridor but no-one was to be seen. The next morning however, when we ferried Finn over for his jump-on-the-grandparents daily fix, there, waiting outside their door was a fairly ordinary ice bucket. (Can you see where this is going?) Ordinary that is, until a closer inspection revealed the presence of poo. A bucket of poo. Outside their hotel room door. Derek still  claims they didn't upset anyone in the bar, but equally claims to have recognised the source as raccoon. Make of this what you will.
The next day was beautiful and perfect for a boat ride. The Maid of the Mist has to be experienced if you visit the Falls in the Summer. The boat takes you slightly closer to the base of the falls than seems sensible but don't worry, you are supplied with one of those all over rain ponchos. you know, the ones that look ridiculous and are very good at making sure that when you reach up to hold your hood on, the water runs straight down your sleeve, and is just exactly not long enough to stop the legs of your trousers getting utterly drenched, no matter how tall you are. When the spray lessens a touch, the view of the Falls is wonderful but, a piece of advice learned the hard way, don't bother putting on mascara that day: way too scary for the kids!

Mmmm, interesting.

Everyone we have met has introduced themselves to Finn as either Mr and Mrs + sir name or as Miss + first name and Mr + first name. Not quite as laid back as the Aussies then.....

The ice-cream serves in our local parlour are so big we ask for a kid's size cone then ask them to stop piling it on half way through - all for $2

Our house gets its water from a well - and we were advised not to drink it!

In New York you pay tax on everything - our hotel bill had four different taxes on it, which made the total cost about $80 more expensive than the actual room!

Our local pest control company advertises their specialities as: bats, bugs, bees, foxes and.....COYOTES! Gulp!

Starbucks' coffee is not worth drinking - anywhere.

Houses don't have washing lines only tumble dryers: it's too cold in the winter to hang clothes outside to dry. Fair enough, but what about the searing temperatures in the summer.....

Beds are very high off the ground: something to do with the cold in the winter, apparently. It must be warmer that way. Imagine how high the beds must be in Siberia.

Toilets are very low to the ground and astonishingly full of water. That couldn't have anything to so with the temperature outside. Could it?

Thank you for having us....

Our first trip out to the village. Let me paint you a little picture: the sun is shining, the temperature is up in the something degrees F that people find impressive but I don't understand, and we are off out in the car for a jaunt to the village - to have a look, purchase some essentials and maybe, try out the local ice-cream. All is going well. Skaneateles looks like a postcard. All the houses in the village are original 1800s; white, with pillars on a wrap around porch (always with a couple of rocking chairs in evidence), and many flowers bordering the steps. Beautiful. The front lawns are unfenced and manicured, and trees line the roads. The shops are tourist oriented, selling gifts and the suchlike, apart from the Furrier which sells dead things made into coats. Or bags. (You can pick up a full length mink for $75,000 whereas a black Fox handbag will set you back a mere $300. Anyone?) Tourists wander about, taking photos, eating ice-creams, watching weddings in the park or waiting for the dinner boat to come in to take them for a cruise round the lake. Just lovely. And there is a bookshop, let's not forget. And not just a bookshop. A bookshop cafe. I did mention that this is the perfect place for me to live. One day, when I can leave the children, I will spend a day in there reading books and drinking coffee by the water.
We headed straight for the supermarket, to discover the local fare, and just have a casual nosey about. (You hear such terrible things about American food, I was desperate to know if it was all true. Well, it is. Most of it but that is for another time). We knew we were in a small town right from the word go as a lady approached us, "You're not from round here are you?" Bless her. Turns out she used to be English, or her Dad did or something. Then the little one spotted something he wanted. We declined to buy it for him and, instead of accepting his misfortune like a trooper and suffering his disappointment bravely, he turned into a spitting, scratching, screaming, kicking, shouting lunatic. Right there in aisle four. There are many things that are not acceptable in American society and I believe I am right in saying that throttling your kids in the supermarket is one of them. We tried reasoning, then cajoling, then some more reasoning. Nothing. People were gathering in groups and whispering behind their hands. You can just hear it can't you? "They're new in town, from Australia they said, perhaps that's the way children behave over there, well I never.....".
I broke. I'm ashamed to say it but I did. I may have even raised my voice just a little. Foolishly, I issued an ultimatum, you know the kind of thing: if you don't stop that right now, I will put you in the car and there you will stay. Still nothing.
Five minutes later,where were we?  In the car, reputations ruined and the day's plans forgotten. I'd had to physically pick him up, tuck him under my arm and march straight out of the door, with him still screaming, kicking and shouting  How the staring, muttering crowd delighted in my flight.
And perhaps even worse than that? I left Jodi to choose the groceries. Silly, silly, silly.

Our new home

Our shared lake right and jetty

Green Island

Skaneateles, holiday destination of the rich and famous!

It's true, actually. The Clintons have a holiday place here. (Yes, those Clintons). It has it's own lake. And we have rights over a very tiny portion of its shore line. Which means we can keep our boat on a mooring right off the jetty near our house and take it out for long leisurely afternoon jaunts, or hoon about towing skiers or inner tubes to our hearts content, with no queuing for public ramps, or domestic disputes over the best way to back the 4x4 into the water to retrieve the boat.

Oh, if only we had a boat.

We do have a green canoe. It came with the house.

And what a house! Compact and bijou, Mostin, compact and bijou. But it has everything we need and plenty of space for visitors downstairs in a pretty much fully equipped apartment. It has its own entrance and an interconnecting door - that locks.