I always do lots of things at Christmas, or at least in the month leading up to Christmas. We always have a gingerbread party and I usually make lots of shortbread and often we make some decorations (this year painted gumnuts). We always make Christmas crackers, with fortune cookies and one dollar scratchies.  The kids still make all their presents for each other and their friends, which is pretty time consuming, and I usually make the kids something each, most often a dress. Cherries are always the sign that Christmas is near and this year I splurged on a whole box, which I've never done before. It was so luxurious for everyone to have as many cherries as they felt like and still have some the next day.

So even though Christmas is always busy and I always do lots of things, there has been a different edge this year. One of my sisters is very unwell and so all the activity has an air of keeping oneself busy and distracted, as well as a particular poignance to it. She came to our gingerbread party and we talked whilst keeping up brave faces for the kids - hers and mine - and I expect this is the reason that the door of the gingerbread house is wonky and the whole thing has a rather rushed look to it. We won't find out for a few more weeks exactly how bad things are, and of course we are hoping that the news is better than we fear. It seems a bit farcical to write about the little things I've been doing and making, whilst in the background this massive, life changing event is unfolding, and yet it also seems wrong not to record our Christmas season. And however powerfully something like this puts all our other petty concerns into perspective, still those petty concerns remain and have to be dealt with. This blog is, after all, about small matters, not large matters!

I appear to have misplaced the letters to Santa Claus which were rather delightful. Ruby began hers by hoping that Santa had been a good boss, as the elves need someone responsible - so proud that she's already identified the potential for exploitation in the relationship between capital and labour. Grace is hoping for a parasol and a beret (she really was born in the wrong era), and Nina asked for a briefcase (!). Lily is beguiled by almost anything she sees in a toy shop - a Jemima doll, a Strawberry Shortcake, a real live Minion please! And Ruby just desperately wants an ipod and swears she is about the only (nearly) 12 year old in the whole world not to have one.  I struggle with the whole technology thing. It does seem that most kids her age have something - a pod or pad or phone - that enables them to link in to social media and communicate with each other and by comparison we seem the most ludditish parents on the face of the earth. Lots of schools require an ipad but ours doesn't and so far she has only been able to really engage by using my phone, which obviously I control. I've held the line because I fear that once she has a device of whatever kind, she will disappear into a world of constant texting and surfing.  I don't think she's particularly interested in games, it's Instagram and social connections that fascinate her.  I know that rules around usage can be established, but I suspect that those rules rapidly become a battleground where parents are thrust unwillingly into the role of enforcer. And I'm not even sure what rules are appropriate - how much time is too much? how much privacy is reasonable? where can she take or use the device?

Once she has a device, and I know that it is inevitable eventually, I fear that she will never  again scoot round and round on the deck for hours, making up plays and stories. I worry that she won't write or draw as much - or at all.  I wonder if she'll still play with her sisters (admittedly this only tends to happen now when she is bored, but with a device, perhaps she'll never be bored?). And I am not sure that she will continue to read as much - or at all.  I also wonder whether I am totally overreacting and whether I'll look back on this dilemma in the same way that I look back on worrying about kindergarten and think how ridiculous I was.

The year, to all intents and purposes, is over. Craig and I have finished work, the kids have finished school, the concerts have been performed, the presents bought and wrapped and tomorrow the business of preparing the house and food for Christmas begins. I'm half thinking that if I am super efficient with all of that, I might just have time to quickly rustle up a couple of Christmas dresses afterall.....

A Week Away

Green through every window

Is it just me or are overalls really cool?

It looked so much like something I'd be paying $15 a kilo for at home, but I am just not game to risk it

Sheoak Falls  - with water

New fireplace, hot milk and friends Iris and Audrey

Sassy and Grace

Big fat koala

Bouquets

New passion

No big kids allowed

Gully preparing his marshmellow toasting stick

We just had a week away and though I took my decent camera, the convenience of the iPhone always seems to trump lugging the SLR around.  It's a shame, really, when the scenery deserves better treatment.  A week seemed such a luxuriously long time to spend surrounded by intense beauty, and even the fact that it barely stopped raining for five of the days, and hailed as we were walking to Sheoak Falls, couldn't detract from the pleasure.  We had visitors galore and it was so good to share this place with others.  I delighted in the fun all the kids had playing in the abundant mud, until I didn't, and then I was completely over it.  Over the mud caked gum boots, the 'mud gloves', the filthy trousers, the squelchy runners, the mud caked car interior that will eventually (hopefully by somebody other than me) require cleaning.  We had a very chilly day on the beach where all the kids except Lily swam and I stood around in long johns and all my Boston-winter gear and still felt cold.  Have I gone soft so quickly?  Not long ago I would have braced the water too, but supervising seven kids was enough, without also freezing my tits off.  Hot chips and potato cakes after hot showers eventually warmed us all up.  We went yabbying in the dam (without luck - apparently not the right season for yabbies) and Nina had an unscheduled dip up to her waist when what appeared to be a puddle turned out to be a water-hole.  We saw mobs of kangeroos, a couple of koalas (or the same koala twice, more likely) and had daily visits from the window-bombing kookaburras who, like stray cats, visited at meal-times hoping for a scrap.  We found a skull and some bones of an animal and tried to figure out what it would be - probably a kangeroo we thought.  We saw (and heard) owls, stacked wood, painted (half) the house,  discovered and disposed of the source of the terrible smell behind the fridge, drank a lot of tea, did the cryptic cross-word (not terribly successfully) each night, handquilted a small quilt, played bananagrams, explored, rode a trail-bike, watched the moon wax, checked out the surf, toasted marshmellows, baked scones, read 'Remembering Babylon', slept in and stayed up late.  It was such a superb holiday that the week ahead and all the mundane realities of our daily lives, feels a wee bit depressing.  

Attention to Detail

So we are at Disneyland. I remember when Fleur Armstrong's dad took her in Grade 3 and was so jealous but other than that I've never harboured a great desire to go. I'm not a big Disney fan (more a Warner Brothers girl) and I've never loved the Disney aesthetic particularly, not to mention the whole  Disney princessification of childhood for girls. However it seemed inevitable that 3 months in America would involve a trip to Disneyland. 

There are, unsurprisingly, lots of things to enjoy about Disneyland.  It is no coincidence that it remains incredibly popular.  The thing that really struck me was the incredible attention to detail.  In the blurry iphone photos above you can see a sea urchin post top on the railing for the Little Mermaid ride, the wrought iron apples lining the gates on the Snow White ride, and the ride controller's panel for Mr Toad's Wild Ride - made to look like the study in Toad Hall, including tiffany toad lamp.  Everywhere you look there is a detail that demonstrates how carefully thought out the place is.  I was impressed.  I especially enjoyed the recreation of a 1930's era California at the Adventure Park - all deco buildings, trolley cars, and fabulous costumes.  Highlights include the art class with an animator, Splash Mountain which had us all in screaming stitches, all the gravestones leading up to the Haunted Mansion with their corny jokes and the expressions on the girl's faces at various points along the way.  A fun way to end this little portion of our adventure before we head back to Boston for a bit of study (Craig), crafting (me - Christmas is coming up) and a visit from the in-laws.

Cacti and Dale Chihuly

Prickly pear

Purple Prickly Pear

Teddy Bear Cactus

Golden Barrel

We visited the Desert Botanical Gardens in Phoenix.  At the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston I'd been blown away by a huge Dale Chihuly sculpture - a massive cactus-like tree made of thousands of handblown glass spikes.  It was serendipitous that there was a Chihuly exhibition on at the Botanic Gardens.  Aren't they marvellous?  Almost as good as the cacti, which I have totally come around to after never being much of a succulent fan.  They were so varied and extraordinary.  Some were like geometric puzzles, some were prehistoric, some were delicate, some over-the-top. 

Saguaro

Toys R Us

Saguaro close up

We arrived in Mesa Arizona. It's fair to say it is very different from New England. It could be another country and for a long time it was; it didn't surprise me to learn that, aside from Alaska and Hawaii, it was the last state to join the union. The landscape has the terrible beauty of the desert. It's all about the colour and the frank boldness of those amazing saguaro cacti, the sudden red jut of rock from the flat surrounds and the scrabbly greenery. It's not dissimilar to parts of Australia. While Massachusetts towns seem an inevitable part of the landscape - all picturesque red gold leaves and simple spired churches, here there is no escaping that the town has been plonked down in the middle of the desert. Clean efficient roads and highways lined with large chain stores and golf courses end abruptly and you find yourself in the desert. A few minutes out of town we were picnicking on the banks of the Salt River, looking at the aptly, if unimaginatively, named Red Mountain and surrounded by enormous cacti.  To survive here requires all the technological advancements America is famous for.  Power from the Hoover dam, water from the Colorado River and presumably produce from all over the country, flown into one of the country's busiest airports.  There is a sense that one is merely keeping nature at bay here.  Like any extreme place, deserts may tolerate the presence of humans, but it always feels temporary.  

We are having a lot of fun. In some ways it feels more 'American' to us, or at least a version of America with which we are familiar. Bottomless fries and soda with our meals, served in cavernous barns with sports on various screens and posters all over the walls; big box stores lining multi- lanes highways; blessings on the food before meals and hand towels cross-stitched with turkeys; Fox News on TV in our hotel breakfast room - 'coming up after the break find out why Obamacare may unfairly favour trade unions'; friendly polite people at every turn - 'have you found everything you were looking for today?' ask the shop assistants, 'you have a great day now'.  It may be required sales patter but it's delivered with a convincing sincerity that is rather charming. Storms are lashing the Northeast and whilst I kind of regret not experiencing them, it's pretty nice being warm here in the desert.

Adventures in American Food

We bought some of what we considered quintessentially American food and drink. Some of this you can find in Australia, like Hershey's chocolate, but none of the kids had ever had any of it.  Then we had a tasting session. 

Here is the general consensus (from the kids)

Would willingly eat again : the wieners, the goldfish crackers, butterfinger, pop-tarts.

Would eat again to be polite : tootsie roll, Hershey's chocolate, Kool aid, cheezits.

Would never eat again: collard greens, chipotle peppers, goobers peanut butter and jelly (all in one jar), key lime pie flavoured yoghurt, twinkies (that surprised me, Lily wouldn't even try hers), Dr Pepper (like medicine with fizz in it), instant Mac'nCheese, dill pickles.

I read a blog written by an American woman who had relocated to Australia and she bemoaned how tasteless she found the food in Australia. We are finding a lot of things are much sweeter or saltier (or both) than we are used to and I guess if you grow up with that as default Australian food might well be comparatively bland.  We are constantly surprised at how many things can be combined with peanut butter - icecream, muffins, donuts, cupcakes, cookies - you name it and you'll find a peanut butter combo.  In fact multiple flavour options generally seem to be popular. Red velvet coffee. 'Moose tracks' milkshakes (chocolate bits and marshmallows). Pumpkin spice icecream.  I'll let you know the feedback if we sample any of these more exotic varieties.  So far the brownie batter icecream with a scoop of mini freckles stumped even sweet-tooth-Ruby.

Getting into a Groove

We have not quite got our body clocks in sync with our time zone or each other.  Craig wakes during the night and sleeps late, as do Ruby and Nina, leaving me and the little girls to enjoy the early morning. The girls played outside in our garden and I sat in this rocking chair in the sunshine and did a bit of knitting.  I also went to a knitting workshop at the local yarn and fabric store.  My knitting so far has mostly been figured out through making it up and occasionally youtubing it.  How useful to find out finally how to cast on properly.  Also very helpful to meet some locals with knowledge of good things to do around town.

(my apologies for the fuzzy iphone photos)

On Wednesday, after a bloody cold walk around Jamaica Pond, we headed to the local library. Grace had to find out various things about Massachusetts including how to spell it. She also discovered that the state insect is the ladybug. Who knew states had insects? Do we have a state insect of Victoria?  Imagine the fights over who got the ladybug - surely the pick of emblematic insects.

Ruby 'researched' the Revolutionary war; Nina the Boston Tea Party. Don't be under the misapprehension that they miraculously and voluntarily set themselves these tasks, though Nina in particular seemed to welcome the chance to do a bit of work. After reading about Samuel Adams' rousing speech in the Old South Church, she now has the chance not just to visit the church, but to comment every time she sees an advertisement for Samuel Adams Beer...

The library itself is gorgeous - old fashioned (built in 1931) and right round the corner, with wood everywhere and big tables, a homework club that meets Monday - Thursday and staffed by kindly and slightly harassed librarians.  Our membership entitles us to borrow up to 75(!) books at a time from any library in Boston, including the imposing Boston Public Library.

Nina folding the laundry

While Craig is all about improving their minds (though they haven't exactly relished the required weekly chess games so far) I decided that now was the time to properly establish some sort of chore regime in our family.  We've had various attempts at daily/weekly chores and theoretically the girls do rather a lot more than in reality.  I know this is because hounding them to do things takes time and energy and sometimes it is just easier to turn, if not a blind eye, an extremely myopic one, to the pathetic effort at making one's bed or putting away one's clothes.  But here I have 12 weeks (only ten and a half now, time is already ticking away) to teach them how to do a load of laundry, set the table, properly stack a dishwasher.  My aim is that at least Ruby and Nina will also have a repertoire of basic meals they can cook.  We have set up duty rosters - they work in pairs and the pairs change each day.  Whoever gets Lily has the misfortune of either trying to get her to assist, or doing her share of the work.  But I guess that is a learning opportunity right there, isn't it?  We'll see how this all goes.  My fantasy is that the requirement to perform chores somehow morphs into a deeper ingrained understanding of the work of running a house, so that everyone contributes, as in a socialist state, according to their ability.  But perhaps it is doomed to remain a fantasy.  We shall see.

Ruby did a nice job setting the table

Since our extremely cold Wednesday, the weather has warmed up considerably which is sort of a relief.  I know it will get much colder but to be that cold at the beginning of November was a shock to the system.

Other things  - we went to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.  Even better than I remembered, despite the missing paintings but difficult to fully appreciate with four kids in tow, all of whom claimed severe starvation about half way through our visit, and one of whom (I'll let you guess which) declared loudly and frequently that she DIDN'T WANT TO WALK ANYMORE and that she WASN'T GOING TO TOUCH THAT PAINTING/CABINET/PRICELESS ARTEFACT that her hands were mere millimetres from.  A solo return visit (or several) is in order.

Tonight Craig is at TD Garden watching the Celtics play the Trailblazers in a (nearly) courtside seat purchased for a song from StubHub.

And we had a fun day today with some American delicacies, but it's getting late so I'll write about it later.

Farewell Aunty Jack

 

I'm showing my age with the title, although I'm not actually old enough to remember when 'Aunty Jack' was on telly. For some reason I just always liked the theme song.  Anyway, it's farewell to Australia for the next three months. The last few days were a bit of a whirlwind of getting ready. We are renting our house out while we are gone and my Lordy wordy the stuff we have in our house! Boxes and boxes and boxes. I've posted this photo because it's the first time the dining room has looked like a dining room in the seven years we've been there.  In fact the whole place looks so much better with 15 fewer boxes of crap lying around. Why do we have so many clothes? We've condensed all we actually need into 2 suitcases. I'm posting this from my phone in Hawaii and so far, 2 suitcases of stuff seems more than enough. Mind you, looking at how rugged up everyone was in the background on 'Good Morning America' makes me think we'll be buying a lot of winter woollies.  Phone posting is kind of a pain, so I think I'll wait til we are set up and sorted to post more regularly. See you soon.