Christmas eve

Advent has been a busy time, not entirely to do with the much-anticipated events of Christmas morning. Snow days and bad colds have kept me from all sorts of things I would ordinarily have done by now, like sending Christmas cards and making truffles. We managed to get a few cards sent, but hope that Epiphany cards will do just as well this year.

Iain appeared in not one but two Christmas plays this year, once as a shepherd and once as a king. He preferred being a king, I think, although he mostly sat and stared somewhat vacantly during the performance. Not until the children started dancing did he really liven up.

Most of the Christmas-related events at Anna's school were cancelled because of the snow. She made a lovely Mary, though, in the children's play at our carols service at church. Everyone seemed amazed at Anna's ability to sit still, given her habit of disappearing into the chaplaincy or (once, famously) out the gate.

Thomas also did his share of dancing in his school nativity play. There may be better photos of him in his multicolored shepherd's outfit, but here he is surrounded by angels.

Hope you are surrounded by angels this Christmas, and filled with all the joy these angels (and shepherd) displayed as they celebrated Christ's coming as only children can.

Happy Christmas to all!

prayer time

I have grown to love nighttime prayers with the children. Fidgeting has dropped to a minimum, as Anna is usually very sleepy and traipses off to her room with daddy before we really get underway. Given the chance, she will always pray for all the kids in her class at school, and you can depend on her to remember someone we haven't seen in ages. (After we'd been in England for several months, she offered up a prayer for Fr Paddy, the priest at our church in Atlanta!)

Thomas is my chief intercessor, though. I know that he must keep abreast of current events at school, because he's always ready with a prayer for whatever crisis might be happening. He prayed for the miners in Chile consistently, and even remembered to thank God for their rescue. He also always remembers in prayer those who are in situations of war or disaster: the floods in Pakistan, the earthquake in Haiti, and the perennial difficulties around Africa. I am always amazed at how aware he is of what's going on in the world, and how concerned he is about people who are in need. He doesn't forget our priests, either. Although he has learned the neat shortcut of praying for all the priests of the diocese, he remembers Fr David Burrell, who was in Durham for several months last year, and Fr Anthony Meredith, who was saying Mass at Minster Abbey during the week we visited in the summer. Because Fr David is in Uganda, Thomas has added to his prayers the rest of the priests in Africa.

Of course how many of these prayers are uttered, and in what sort of detail, depends on how tired Thomas is on any given evening. But he's always bound to remember someone I've forgotten, or to surprise me by offering a prayer for a person or situation I wouldn't dream that he had in mind. A couple of nights ago, though, he blew me away completely. 'God bless all those people who don't have anyone to pray for them', he said.

Now that's a boy with a good heart, if ever there was one. So if you were thinking that nobody was praying for you, Thomas has got you covered. God bless him, and all the children who pray for us grown-ups. We need those prayers!

still there

I admit to being surprised, still, about the baby. But today I went for the 20-week ultrasound, and sure enough, there's a little heart beating away. Better still, that little heart has four perfect, lovely chambers and two valves that do exactly what they should do. I often wish that I didn't know what to look for in a heart ultrasound, but it is nice to know that I am seeing what I ought to be seeing. And baby has long bones (femurs, anyway) that are perfectly within the normal range. All good news, which is a relief.

Oh, and there isn't any indication that it's a boy. And we looked hard.

Mr Personality

When Iain was about three months old, our pediatrician in Atlanta commented on his attention-getting ability. Even in an infant car seat, Iain captivated an audience. 'Mr Personality', the doctor said. 'But then, if you're number three, you have to be, or you get parked in a corner'.

Tonight we sat after dinner, Iain on Lewis's lap, friends on either side, and listened to Iain talk. He had pretended to be a knight most of the day, protecting 'Queen Mummy' from the monsters, and inviting me to see the 'pond' in his room. (A round rug, actually, but that's Iain's imagination for you.) He kept us fairly well entertained, and clearly enjoyed having the floor.

And no, that picture wasn't taken today. We still have plenty of snow. But that's Iain, just being Iain.

more snow!

Although I took this photo on Monday morning, it doesn't look much different now. I wish I had been able to record the sheep, all of whom seemed to be bleating insistently. Whether they were advising me to go back inside or pleading with me to make it stop, I've no idea.

The kids think it's great that they haven't been at school all week. Interestingly, as the time has worn on, they've proven themselves more and more self-entertaining and able to play well together. (As soon as I say this, though, a fight will break out and they'll all start complaining that they're bored.) Thomas and Iain were acting out a story they made up (well, Thomas did most of the making-up) while Anna chose a dress from the dress-up clothes.

All the same, I will be glad when schools are open again. I have a vague memory of having been a lecturer in theology and ethics, and there's a book I am supposed to be finishing this month...

official snow days

Schools were closed yesterday and today, and we've played in the snow (see the photos here), baked, painted, and made play-doh. I honestly don't know how my home-schooling friends do it. A day at work is so much less tiring, and in many ways less challenging, than a day devoted exclusively to keeping the children occupied. Juggling my teaching and writing and parenting and housekeeping often involves dropping balls and being frustrated that none of it seems quite up to par. But somehow scrambling after the balls has become a way of life, and I don't think I would be much better at my job if I didn't have children (I might write more, but I am not certain it would be better), and I wouldn't be better as a parent if I didn't teach and write (though the house might well be tidier).

But enough about me. The kids are the interesting bit here, and Iain says something every day that is worth repeating, or so it seems to me. Today we were discussing pizza (as you do), and thinking about making our own. The dough-making would be great (Iain loves cooking), and we could decide what to put on the pizza: he doesn't like cheese on pizza. Go figure. So I was listing all the different sorts of things we might put on the pizza besides cheese. After I had mentioned a dozen or so, Iain chimed in.

'Chocolate pizza!' he exclaimed with delight.

I laughed, and somehow all the work the day involved suddenly seemed worth it.

surprised by Thomas

Iain was particularly wriggly in Mass this morning. As he came with the others from children's liturgy, he stopped, turned and climbed the steps to give Fr Tony a hug. It's hard to be cross with Iain when he does things like that. It may not be appropriate, but it is an expression of his loving heart rather than his mischievous spirit (though there is probably a bit of that at work as well). When he came back to join us I commented, in a whisper, on his devotion to our parish priest. He said, not loudly, but loud enough for about half the church to hear, 'I love Fr Tony'. How can I complain? That's Iain.

Then he proceeded to wriggle and squirm through the Liturgy of the Eucharist, so persistently that Lewis took him out after communion. Thomas wasn't doing much better, and by the final hymn I had taken him aside, insisting that he stand still with me until it was time to leave. So he was standing close to me when the choir started the singing. Immediately, Thomas said, 'we sing this one at school'. And he proved it: he read the words and sang along, and knew the refrain by heart.

I'll never hear 'maranatha' in quite the same way again.

retreat from Stalingrad

We didn't have an official day off for Thanksgiving here in County Durham, but ended up having a snow day! After last winter, we thought the kids would be disappointed, since that sort of snowfall is so unusual in England. Snow hasn't fallen this early in winter or 17 years (or so Lewis tells me): the children don't care much for statistics, but they really enjoyed the snow.

Lewis gave our family walk the nickname 'retreat from Stalingrad'. I assure you, however, that we were dressed appropriately for the weather. If you don't believe me (or you want to see Lewis instructing Iain on the art of making and throwing snowballs), check out the photos.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Iain finds a monster

Iain was looking for sheepie. 'He's upstairs', I said, 'in the study'. Off he went, up the stairs to retrieve sheepie. A couple of minutes later, he came back down, and called out to me: 'I have something to tell you, mummy. You were right. Sheepie was in the study.' Wow. I hear those three little words so infrequently.

Then Iain went on to explain that sheepie was alone in the study, in the dark, and was a little frightened. Apparently there was also a monster in the study. A rather large monster, by the sound of it, in fact. Surprisingly, the monster said, 'Hello, Iain'. I suppose Iain met a monster just as friendly as he is. 'And guess what I did?' he asked. Now, Thomas would have killed the monster. Shoot first (or run through with a sword or light saber), ask questions later--and he never would have dreamt that the monster would offer a civilized greeting. But not Iain. I said, 'You said, "hello, monster"'. He nodded.

Turns out it was a chocolate monster.

no big deal

Several weeks ago, we had some news. Big news. And anytime there's big news to be shared with the children, I agonize over how best to break it to them--good or bad. When we were thinking about moving to England, we spent months talking it up. We involved them in the process, though only Thomas was really able to grasp the idea of moving to England. I even think hard about how and when to tell them we're having visitors.

So when the news was a little brother or sister, I was practically paralyzed. How should we tell them? What might they ask? How on earth would I answer those questions? In the end, we decided that it would be best to wait until we had an ultrasound picture. Something to look at, we reasoned, would help make the idea more real. (It certainly did for me: I was in such a state of disbelief over the news that I was actually a little surprised to see the unmistakable movement of a tiny heart beating.)

Picture in hand, I sat everyone down at the table. We showed them the picture of Iain at 5 months gestation, and explained what it was. Then--the moment of truth--we showed them the picture of baby-to-be. 'Who do you think this is?' we asked.

'Iain?' Thomas guessed. Anna and Iain weren't much interested in either of the fuzzy black and white photos. The one of Iain was slightly more interesting, because it was more clearly a baby. After we got the point across that the new picture was of their baby sister or brother (once again, Anna hopes for a sister...), we expected a reaction. Iain exclaimed, 'A baby sister!' with amazing certainty, then changed the subject. Anna continued chewing her bagel, thoughtfully.

Thomas looked a little disappointed. I think he thought we were going to tell him that we were taking him to a Chelsea match at the weekend.

understanding

Thomas met me at the door when I came back from running today. 'I just wanted to see if you had a good run,' he said. I had, and said so. 'You really like running, don't you?'

I thought for a minute about how to explain to Thomas why I run. I'm not good at it, I am never going to win any races, and I always worry that I look like a complete idiot. But I still enjoy it, and owe whatever sanity I have to getting outside and putting one foot in front of the other at a reasonable pace. Without it, I do get a bit cranky, I'll admit.

So I said to Thomas, 'You know how you feel when you go outside and play football?' He looked up and nodded. 'Well,' I said, 'that's how I feel when I go running.'

'Wow,' he said, looking at me, amazed. 'Like that?' I nodded. We understood each other perfectly.

change of seasons

The skies are growing dark early these days: at a quarter to five, it's dusk. Winter seems to be shoving autumn aside, anxious to get on with the business of cold.

Thomas is, of course, undaunted. He will kick his football up and down the garden until it is quite dark, or I insist that he come inside. Anna and Iain, on the other hand, have absolutely no interest in getting out in the cold, and grudgingly find ways to amuse themselves when I firmly deny their requests for television. Because they both enjoy all sorts of pretend play, they have a great time together, and keep each other occupied.

And so I find myself, in odd moments, free. Now I have no excuse not to wash up the breakfast things and cook a proper meal for supper...

Christmas cake day

and more! click here for photos (story to follow).

World Cup 2010

You thought that the World Cup was over. In most places, that's probably true. But we live it, still, on a daily basis. Thomas occasionally watches Premier League highlights, and is pretty certain that Chelsea are better than Man U (that's Manchester United, he explains to me in the car on the way home).

Today his one desire upon arriving home was to watch the highlights of the Nigeria-Argentina match. (I didn't even know they'd played each other in July. Silly me!) 'I know it was 1-0 [one-nil, he said], but I don't know who scored the goal.'

I let him watch, but he didn't tell me who scored the goal. You'll have to look it up yourself. I can tell you that the extended match highlights last 10 minutes and 5 seconds, though.

the tarantula

Anyone who has known me for 5 minutes knows I am not especially fond of spiders. From quite an early age, Thomas learned to identify the characteristic shriek from the next room: 'Was it a spider, mummy?' The typical American house spider was enough to terrify me. Yes, I know it's completely irrational. (In my defense, I will say that I am not afraid of snakes, although I have respected the personal space of the rattlesnakes I have encountered.)

Thomas has recently been promoted to spider-slayer. Although I could usually muster the courage to dispose of American-size house spiders, British house spiders are something else entirely. I was amazed to see Thomas, at six years old, happily chasing a medium-to-large spider around the dining room, and hitting it (eventually) with one of Lewis's shoes. Not only that, but he's very good with a brush and dustpan, and will get rid of them for me. Fantastic.

So a couple of weeks ago, when Iain spotted a spider in the tub, I knew we were in good hands. I stifled the usual shriek (easier to do, since I had been forewarned), although the spider in the tub was by far the biggest house spider I have ever seen. It was at least as big, if not bigger, than the spiders that make ground-to-tree-branch webs in Atlanta in the springtime. Thomas approached it fearlessly, armed with one of Lewis's crocs. An inadequate weapon for the task, I thought: only the Johnston & Murphy's will do for this one. Thomas held the shoe directly over the spider, and dropped it squarely on the loathsome creature. I doubted: I would have thought a really hard whack was necessary. Thomas had killed it with one blow, and without squashing it to a pulp. (This was lucky, in fact, because he could sweep it up and flush it; a smushed spider in the tub would have fallen under my jurisdiction. Phew!)

Later that day, Iain was telling a friend about the spider. 'Was it a tarantula?' he asked. 'No,' I replied; 'tarantulas are bigger.' Yes, I thought to myself, but not that much bigger.

Iain in the kitchen

A couple of days ago, Iain was helping me in the kitchen. Unlike his siblings, he really enjoys participating in whatever cooking project I've undertaken. As soon as I say I am going to cook, he offers to help.

Usually, I refer to myself as the sous chef: Lewis is the head chef at our house. So that makes Iain the sous sous chef, we guessed. When Lewis identified Iain as such, he said: 'No, I am just a little boy who is good at cooking'.

Love that little boy!

Anna makes progress

It is true that Anna is always making progress of one sort or another, always at her own pace, and sometimes I think that time-lapse photography might be the best way to capture her development. My little flower opens slowly, but beautifully.

And then there are the days where all the imperceptible movements suddenly add up to a giant leap. Months and months of scribbling, writing triangle-shaped 'letters' and squiggles that look like someone's drawn a lawn set for croquet, take shape. Anna can write her name. Slowly, the triangles become the letter A, written over and over on sheet after sheet of paper. The funny half-hoops look more and more like lowercase n's. Hey, presto: that says, 'Anna'.

So last Thursday, Anna was going to a birthday party, her first since moving to England. Her friend Ebony was very keen to have Anna; my apologies were most insistently rejected. I had to juggle a ridiculously busy afternoon in order to get Anna to the party. I bought the present and card, the obligatory pink wrapping paper, and we were all set. I wrote, 'Happy Birthday, Ebony, with love from' inside the card. I showed it to Anna, read out the message, and said, 'now you write your name here'. Anna looked distinctly uninterested. No use urging or pleading when she's not interested, so I set the card and pen on the table and told Anna it would be there for her to write her name. I knew my chances were no better than 50/50. Following such a specific direction seems to be against Anna's personal code of ethics most days.

Maybe ten minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen with the card. Just below 'with love from', she had written, 'Anna'. Just 'Anna'--no extraneous scribbles, no half-formed letters, not on the wrong side of the card. Anna.

Just four letters--really just two. Is it such a big deal? Around here it most certainly is.

swamped

just the latest: we've moved! the old place was lovely for a couple of grown-ups, but the new place is much better for the kids. plus we'll have a study again, which is a miracle.

We can't hear sheep anymore, but we can smell the pigs when there's a strong wind blowing in the right direction...

days of wonder

Iain has been delightful since he was born--and it just keeps getting better. His imagination is the most fertile, and his laugh the readiest. For months we have been treated to 'boats' (a half-eaten cookie), and seen any number of things used as a telephone or a sword.

Yesterday, though, was the very best yet. We were walking across one of the bridges over the river Wear and Iain was looking down at the water. He watched so intently and for so long, I wondered what he saw. Then he asked: 'Are those fairies?' I thought for a minute he'd seen a couple of boats--ferries, perhaps. When I looked for myself, I saw the sunlight playing on the rippling surface of the water as it does, giving the impression of blinking stars, or diamonds (if you're Eric Clapton).

Fairies? I never would have thought of that. Thanks, Iain, for reminding me how magical the world really is.

I for Iain

I admit I am hopelessly behind with the news. But this pressed itself on me and insisted on being publicized.

Of course Iain should have been eating some supper, but he wasn't. He decided he needed paper and a marker, and wouldn't be persuaded even by the promise of something sweet. So be it: we let him draw. And suddenly a little voice at the end of the table said 'I for Iain'! We looked up, and there he was, holding up the paper, having written a very clear capital 'I'.

No sooner had we gasped in awe over (and applauded) the I than Iain put the paper back down and started another drawing, explaining 'T for Thomas'. And there it was--a T.

Now I have no idea whether a 3.5-year-old is supposed to be able to do that. I don't care. We thought it was pretty cool.

hooligan

Thomas has caught World Cup fever. Everything revolves around football (or soccer, or futbol) at the moment. He watches the highlights and knows far more than anyone else in the family about what's going on. Conversations tend to involve mostly reflection on past matches (especially England v Slovenia) or speculation about future matches. Today, for example, Thomas was pressing me to declare whether I would be supporting Japan or Denmark, and couldn't believe I didn't care. He insisted that I should support Denmark, which makes me especially glad we didn't let him stay up to watch them lose to Japan 3:1. During the second half of the England-Slovenia match, Thomas went completely to pieces because England weren't scoring.

Yesterday afternoon Thomas engaged the Sainsbury's delivery man in conversation about the World Cup. 'I don't think England are going to win the World Cup', Thomas observed. The man agreed, and said he was a Holland fan. Thomas replied, 'Holland has won the World Cup twice'. (How does he know that? I had no idea, but the man didn't correct Thomas.) Further exchanges were made, in which I mostly stood by and watched Thomas grow up before my eyes. Eventually he wandered off and the guy (who was a really nice guy, obviously enough) told me that he'd been decked out completely for one of the England matches--the red and white wig, face painted and everything--only to be disappointed. 'I was pretty sad,' he offered.

Yes, I thought. But I'll bet you didn't beat your fists on the floor and cry.

latest photos

are here.

Enjoy!

a moment 6 years in the making

Ever since Anna was very tiny, she has been fascinated by the laundry. Heaps of dirty washing, mountains of clean washing, even hanging things out on the line. When she was about 2, I think, I started asking her to help me sort the socks. Of course I didn't expect much then, but we had fun doing it. Over the years we've become busy, and I haven't taken as much time getting her involved in the process one-on-one: Thomas quickly surpassed Anna in matching ability, and Iain started joining in by grabbing handfuls of socks and throwing them in the air gleefully.

Today, though, she came indoors before the boys and wandered through to the living room, where I was making my way through a sizeable mound of clean washing, including a great many socks. We put the socks off to one side, and she identified items of clothing by owner. 'That's mines' or 'that's daddy's' she said as she handed me T-shirts and pajamas. I came across a sock and asked her to find the mate for me. Although I wasn't surprised to receive it back together with the matching sock, it was a wonderful moment I have waited a long time to experience. She sorted most of the rest, with prompting, as I folded the other things. Eventually I brought out the sock bag (where I keep all the single socks when I finish the washing) and found some whose mates I knew we had. Anna helped me match them, and I put a couple of the leftovers from today's bunch in the bag without saying anything. When we'd finished, there was one sock left. Anna picked it up without a word, and put it in the bag. 'There' she said. 'All done.'

Amazing.

pub glass

The positions on the cricket pitch have always been a mystery to me. To be honest, I still don't exactly grasp the intricacies of the sport. But we visited a pub that not only had a playground outside for the kids (a wonderful thing in itself), but also had these fantastic glasses. So I discovered that although there isn't a shortstop in cricket, there is 'silly mid-on'. What?!? Next, I have to discover where the names of these positions come from. Thank goodness it's cricket season already. Hopefully we'll make it to Chalfont St Giles to watch the village cricket team play at home, and Uncle Cedric can delight his nephews with his bowling! Barring that, we'll return to the pub, and I can have a quick cricket lesson while the kids play on the playground--provided the weather gets a bit warmer.

No, we didn't tuck a glass in my bag to take home. But I did take a photo.

apologies

I have been working on a paper. Today, Thomas asked the question: 'What does it mean when you "give" a paper?' I am surprised he has never asked that one before--it's something that comes up enough in this house! Usually Lewis is the one giving the paper, though, at a conference somewhere or other. Tomorrow I have to go all the way to Seminar room B in Abbey House, which is one of the rooms in which I taught all year. So it's not very exotic!

Lewis would remark now, if I were a news reader, that there isn't really any news. That may or may not be true, but it is certainly the case that I haven't been looking beyond my computer screen any more than necessary. I check in with family in California, and try to keep abreast of my Director of Studies tasks and the kids...

There are photos from our weekend walk--a bit of an adventure, it was. Look for them on Thursday!

a spin

Sometimes a spin and a walk before church is just what it takes to get everyone ready to be (sort of) quiet and (sort of) still for 11.00 Mass. Or maybe it was that our own parish priest had returned this week!

Everyone is looking forward to getting back to the school-work routine tomorrow, too!

family walk

Although the children sometimes grumble about taking a walk, they invariably enjoy it.

Yesterday was absolutely gorgeous--the sun shone, and it was warm enough for short sleeves! Best of all, the kids decided to stick together, mostly on Iain's initiative. He insisted on holding Anna's hand. Apparently it was contagious. Thomas wanted to join in as well.

But that's not all: Iain and Anna must have seemed like they were enjoying it so much that they added another member to their company!

While Thomas threw a stick for their dog, Anna and Iain kept the little girl entertained. Iain related to her the entire plot of Toy Story, and explained that he'd seen horses earlier (which we had). And that there were mongols riding them (which there weren't--but it shows Iain has been paying attention to the book about the Great Wall of China).

It was all fine and good, really, until the little girl decided she wanted to give Iain a hug. He wasn't having any of it--obviously he's not ready for that kind of commitment!

Still, it was a really lovely way to spend an afternoon, though ambling along with Anna, Iain, and their new friend was the slowest I have ever walked in my entire life.

mea culpa

Right, I know I have failed you utterly if you've been checking regularly for updates. Hopefully the photos will help to make amends. If you're on facebook, you can also check out the two videos of Iain I posted yesterday. As our pediatrician observed when Iain was only 3 months old, he is indeed 'Mr Personality'.

Easter break has been looooonng! We're used to the week-long spring break common in the US, which I used to lament: a week isn't long enough really to relax! Well, we've not done a huge amount of relaxing, but we had a great time with my dad, visiting spots near and far: Crook Hall, Blanchland, Newcastle, Whitby--and we even took a ride on the steam train from Whitby to Grosmont. The kids enjoyed the train as much as my dad, and Iain spent the next several days suggesting it as the main activity for the day. If only it wasn't more than an hour's drive away!

Easter term promises to be somewhat less hectic--much less teaching--but still pretty busy, with writing projects underway and deadlines fast approaching. We're hoping for a visit from friends in the US (that's you, Levys: we miss you and would LOVE to see you) over the half-term break, if we can get it organized.

Anna, Thomas and Iain are settled enough to miss their friends at school over the break, and

most especially their friends Lili and Sia (see left), whose father teaches in the theology and religion department with us: Thomas is preparing to make a huge 'welcome back' sign and we're already planning the feast we'll have to celebrate their return from Essex next week! We are indeed fortunate to have such wonderful friends!

Happy Easter!

Crook Hall

Our first family trip of the season to Crook Hall, one of our favorite (or should I say, favourite) places around Durham. The kids love to run through the garden, and Lewis enjoys telling us the names of all the flowers in bloom.

Spring is certainly here, though the chill of winter hasn't yet gone completely. But we're planning to get out into the sunshine again today!

rainy day

April showers have begun: it's 5C (41F) and raining. A wet, cloudy, chilly and muddy Saturday morning is the perfect time for a run. (Ok, I admit that anytime I can get out of the house and onto the railway paths is a pretty good time for a run.)

Inside, things are quiet, briefly. Yesterday was a momentous day in Thomas's life. He had his first piano lesson. Amazingly, he took to it, seemed to enjoy it, and came home eager to practice and to teach Iain middle C. It is officially our first foray into the extra-curricular world, which we've managed to hold off for a ridiculously long time. Anna will be 9 in September; most people we know with kids that age have ballet and music and sports and scouts and goodness knows what else. But I am quite happy starting with an activity that can be done indoors in an hour on a Friday afternoon, during which I can sit and have a quiet cup of tea and a chat with the mother of the girl giving Thomas his piano lesson.

I know it won't be too long before I am standing in the rain, watching my sons chase a black-and-white ball down a muddy football pitch (or a soccer field, if you prefer). So I will be grateful for middle C, no matter how many times I hear it between now and next Friday.

nothing to report

spring has begun in earnest--daffodils are blooming, and the nightly frost seems to have stopped. we are all looking forward to seeing Grampa at Easter and to having some time off from our respective employments--school, creche and teaching.

I am looking forward to finishing teaching at the end of next week and hoping to get into working on the last chapter of the book I ought to have completed at the end of 2009! and, of course, to updating the albums on facebook so you can see what we've been up to!!

family walk

again--sorry there aren't photos. soon there will be a link to a facebook album--once the term is over and things settle down a little bit for me. the cold is finally letting go of us, and we went for a walk without hats or mittens today. there are buds on the trees, and spring is definitely getting ready to burst forth. I saw the first daffodil this afternoon.

we are looking forward to spring, to Easter when 'grampa' is coming to visit, and we're hoping to see more friends come over when the weather turns. Hadrian's Wall and Holy Island await, and we're ready to show you around all the local wonders...

springing

amazingly, I find myself on iGoogle, thanks to Catherine. and although I can't post photos from my homepage, I can write the quick update. for the last 4 or 5 days, the sun has been shining, and the snow seems like a distant memory: spring is coming. I spotted snowdrops a couple of weeks ago as well as buds on the trees. I know I will miss the pink dogwoods along N Decatur Road, but I am looking forward to seeing spring in County Durham.

Thomas, the university lecturer

I am afraid there aren't any photos to go with this, since I was supposed to be teaching the class. Thomas came along for the hour and entertained my students with his arithmetic skills and map-drawing.

He still says he wants to be a footballer when he grows up, though.

Castlerigg

We took Catherine to Castlerigg today. She has the better photos, of course--stay tuned for those.

Catherine wins the prize for 'first friend to visit', and we are very pleased to have her. Anna, Thomas and Iain have a week off school and we intend to take in all the local sights. at least all those that are open in Feburary. So today it was a short trip to the Lakes, tomorrow we'll explore locally and have enchiladas (thanks to the green salsa freshly imported from the US).

I am glad to have most of the week off, as well. I have a couple of commitments related to work and church, but for the most part will be spending the days playing with the kids and one of our very favorite people. The first half of Epiphany term was exhausting and so busy I haven't had time even to update the blog to say how swamped I've been. I continue to enjoy the work, though, and the kids are happy in their respective schools.

Anna has had her first annual review (here it is called something different, but is the equivalent of an IEP meeting in the US, for those who know about that sort of thing). Looks like she will remain at the special school here for the time being. She continues to learn and grow, and has begun to recognize letters and words. She isn't always accurate, but she goes through the motions of sounding out words--and we are thrilled.

looking forward to a restful and fun week!!

Anna is chillin'

We have spent many lovely afternoons with our friends in Lanchester. Anna, Thomas and Iain play happily with the two girls, ages 3 and 5, and the five children have the sorts of disputes kids only have once they're familiar with one another. Treating each other like siblings isn't always a good thing!

But here Anna is just enjoying the warmth of the room and the pleasantness of the setting--and displays perfectly the way we all feel when we spend time with them!

The miracle of the loaves

I have no idea what possessed me to make biga (non-sourdough starter--check out the Il Fornaio baking book) yesterday, but when it started taking over the refrigerator, I had to do something. After all, the fridge is not that big. Time to bake some bread.

This is a project Thomas enjoys. I knew that already. For a change, I thought I'd try doing it at the dining room table, so I could get everybody involved. And--wonder of wonders!--it worked. Apart from Iain eating the flour (go figure), that is. All three kids really liked playing with the dough and occasionally observing that I was doing something rather different with it. (It's called 'kneading', kids.) Anna copied me for a while, then seemed to think that shaping the dough would be more interesting. Hey, whatever. As long as you're happy.

And they were happy. Lewis and Tommy talked about Cassian across the table while I kneaded and the kids played. More than twenty minutes of sheer domestic bliss.

All it took was a bag of flour and the willingness to see it spread liberally around the dining room.

Snow day 3

It sounds like a sequel with a tired plot, but we managed to do something new. Iain is standing in the foundation of a snow fort, which we're building today. Amazing--we've never seen this much snow before!

Last year, when we were planning for the move to Durham, Thomas remarked that he wanted to move to England. Why? I asked. 'Because it snows there,' was the reply. And here we were worried that we might not get much snow this winter. Durham usually gets a bit, probably more than Atlanta, but not usually enough to build a good snowman (or snow-woman, if you prefer). Needless to say, Thomas has enjoyed himself thoroughly in the 6-8 inches of snow we've had over the past 3 weeks.

Everyone's best guess is that schools will be closed again tomorrow. Maybe we'll finish the snow fort and pretend we're on the ice planet, Hoth. If only we could get some Ton-tons...

still more snow

Anna, Thomas and Iain were all home again today. Most likely they will be tomorrow as well. That's bad news for parents, of course, who should be back to work (and hard at work); it is good news for the kids, who will probably be treated to sledding (or sledging, as the locals call it) if this keeps up. Eventually, one just has to give up being frustrated at the situation and accept the snow days.

I don't think we're there yet, but we'll keep you posted.

Snow days

Durham, England is slightly better prepared for snow than Atlanta. But that's not saying much. The news of the day is that Anna's school bus (a minibus hired from a taxi company) wasn't running today: the bus driver called just after Lewis left with Thomas and Iain to say that the smaller roads hadn't been gritted, the bus was having trouble getting around, and so it seemed unsafe to proceed.

Not again! Anna finally got to school (don't ask--Lewis doesn't want to see the inside of a car again for a while) and we got to work around 10; left just after 2 because my office was freezing and Lewis was picking up Anna at 3 and then Thomas at 3.15.

Some more snow fell this afternoon and he got stuck in it, arriving home just before 5. That's right, 5.

Tomorrow we may just stay home!

Shortest school day ever!

The day started out well, for the first day back. Everyone was ready to go on time, and Lewis was even able to get the car out. The school bus arrived early to pick up Anna, and I was headed out the door cheerfully, ready for the long walk to my office.

It is colder this morning than it has been, but the roads are clear, and traffic zoomed past me as I stomped through the snow in my hiking boots. (Lewis later remarked that in my long coat, colorful hat and scarf, and heavy boots, I looked like a Russian peasant. I couldn't possibly comment on that.) I stopped to take a couple of photos on my iPhone, not having been out that way at this time of the morning since the snow fell. The fields are still blanketed with snow, and the sky behind the trees along the horizon glowed pink. What a great day to be out, I thought, as I continued on my way, listening to my favorite music and being generally grateful to live in such a beautiful place.

Then Lewis rang to say that Thomas wouldn't be in school after all. Bring him to my office, I said, undaunted. There's plenty for him to do, and I can get started on some work and take him home around lunchtime. I crossed the roundabout and was just about to head up the big hill that takes me toward the University when the phone rang again. This time it was Anna's school, calling to say that the buses couldn't get into the car park, and Anna was going to be returning home. I suppose I must have sounded puzzled, because the school secretary explained that health and safety regulations prohibit children from crossing the school car park in the snow.

Whatever.

I guess the school holidays just got a little bit longer. Come to think of it, I wasn't actually sad to see them go.

more snow!

We have even more snow (so my hopes for driving to school on clear roads tomorrow are dashed), and more photos, of course.

The children all seem happy to be going back to school tomorrow, though I am not looking forward to getting everyone out of the door at the appointed time. Two weeks' vacation has left our morning routine a bit rusty!

Snowy new year!

Click here for the rest of the photos.

Having grown up in Southern California makes living through a snowy Christmas and New Year something magical. After many, many Decembers of listening to songs about a white Christmas or a winter wonderland, I find myself stepping out into it. Strangest of all, I have discovered that I really like winter, even if it does sometimes involve sleet.

The past two weeks have been full of snowball fights, walks (and even a couple of runs) in the snow, curling up by the warm fire and feeling totally deserving of cups of hot chocolate. After all, it is the perfect weather for it! The school holidays have improved dramatically since the frenzy of Christmas preparations and after-Christmas cleanup have ended. Although I am looking forward to getting back to the work I enjoy, for the first time in a long, long time, I will be sad to see the kids go back to school. Not to say that these two weeks have been characterized entirely by cheerfulness and cooperation. Arguments, whining and complaining haven't taken a vacation--but at least they're balanced by some shows of good sportsmanship (sorry--is there a gender-neutral term for that?) and plenty of family fun.

...not to mention about 10 showings of Monsters vs. Aliens.

Happy New Year!