The tallest mountain in England, Scafell, is 3,209 feet above sea level. By contrast, there are 48 mountains in New Hampshire that are over 4,000 feet. There is an unofficial club of people who like to climb all 48, and right from the word go, I knew I wanted to be a member of this club. I've signed up to a couple of hiking groups online, but haven't quite got up the courage (or in the case of the winter hikers, got enough experience/crampons) to go. So with the arrival of my long time hiking buddy Matt (see http://walkingtheleedscountryway.blogspot.com/), it was time to start the journey.
We spent some time researching our options for today's hike. We ruled out anything that was rated difficult or above, and were surprised to find that not one 4,000 footer is marked as anything less than moderate on most websites. After a recommendation from a family friend, we eventually decided on Osceola, reported to have amazing views from the top and measuring in at 4,315 feet. Matt, as always, downloaded a map and spent some time creating "Walkbot" which would help us find our route and give us useful stats on elevation and distance.
It was meant to be a simple 4 hour hike (2 up, 2 down), so we set off at 6am to try and catch the cooler morning sunshine ("we" also include my mother-in-law. Our previous hiking experience together included hot pastrami pizza before a noon hike, so things could only get better). A beautiful drive ensued, including going over the Kancamangus pass in glorious clear sunshine. We arrived on time to start at 8 and started to walk. It was at this point that Matt mentioned that we had 2.5 miles to the first peak, then a simple ridge walk to Osceola, coming in around 3.5 miles. This sounded like a long distance to cover in 4 hours, but we were already en route at this point.
The first 1.5 miles or so were delightful. The land rolled slowly upwards, meandering across small streams and halved tree trunks served as wide tight ropes to help us cross some of the boggier parts. At this point, our moderate hike became strenuous. The gradient sharply increased, and Matt became quickly introduced to why New Hampshire is known as the Granite State - there were rocks everywhere! We had to scramble, climb and stretch ourselves up the hill, to the point where we decided that if you didn't have to use your hands to climb, it wasn't "up". The glimpses of the Presidential range and the cool breezes made it fun, and we took many breaks to allow the lactic acid to break down and our heart rates to relax.
After a good hour of this, we reached East Peak, 4,156 feet in elevation. This we discovered meant that today was going to be a double bagger (i.e. getting two 4,000 peaks for the price of one hike), which suddenly made the sweaty t-shirt and lack of lunch more bearable. However, East Peak definitely falls under the category of "peak bagging", mountains that have poor or no view, but still measure over 4,000 so you need to tick them off. We discovered that the simple route that we had planned to go wouldn't have taken us to East Peak, so I'm very glad that we don't have to revisit it, as it's simply a cairn in the middle of some woods, with no view worthy of the name. After a quick photo stop, we were on our way to Matt's "ridge walk".
The map Matt had downloaded was a bit fuzzy as you zoomed in, which meant that it was hard to work just how many contour lines we would need to cover. The answer, as we crossed the saddle from East Peak to Osceola, was many. There was around 500 feet of descent, followed by 800 feet of climbing, including The Chimney, a vertical rock climbing experience (but with some easy hand and foot holds, so it was more exciting than dangerous). However, the ridge part was a great description, and the feeling of walking on the top of the world with the wind in your face and views glimpsed through the trees on both sides is one that isn't easily forgotten.
By the time we reached the peak of Osceola, we were in need of a break, and what a place to have one. You get around 220 degrees of view (according to websites) and the sheer height of the peak means that the sides drop away steeply, leaving you with a slight sense of vertigo. We were able to see for miles, and unlike similar views in the UK's Lake District, where you know that over the next hill lies a big town and more people, here you just know that you'll just get more of the same view of big mountains and trees. It's a view that I'll never get bored of, and it just boggles my mind every time that the whole state is one massive forest, but it's one of the smallest states in the nation and that America just goes on for miles and miles.
The walk down was tough to say the least. Our legs were still feeling the burn from the exertions of the climb, and some of the rock formations that we had to climb down were scarier than when we went up. The comment that we made the most was "how on earth did we climb up this?!". We were much quicker coming down (3 hours to the peak, 2.15 to the bottom) but we were all still pretty tired and sweaty as we arrived in the carpark. For the toughness of the hike, the view at the top more than justified the effort involved, and I'm delighted that I've started my 48 club collection with not one, but two peaks. I'm already starting to plan how many I can check off while the weather is still good enough!
Sunday, 25 June 2017
Sunday, 4 June 2017
Driving in the US
I've been mentally adding to this post for a few months now, and it seems prescient to post it now with the first of our summer visitors coming. This is meant as a personal guide to driving over here for people who haven't done it before, but I'm not going to start with "drive on the right" and "enjoy spending less than £20 to fill your car from empty". Instead, these are curiosities that I've found over here that I want to share ahead of time.
1. Right on red - Jeremy Clarkson once described this as America's only contribution to Western civilization, and while I disagree with the word "only", I do think it's one of the better road rules over here. The basic gist is to keep traffic moving, especially in rural states like New Hampshire, when you could be waiting for ages for a light to turn green with no traffic coming for miles. If you're at a red light and turning right, you may proceed if it's safe to do so after stopping. There are some intersections where you can't do this, and there will be a big sign saying NO RIGHT TURN ON RED to remind you. If it doesn't say it, you're free to go. It's exhilarating the first time you "run" a red light, but after a while, I wonder how I'll cope without it when I leave the US.
2. Stop means stop - again, this tends to apply to back roads and quieter city streets where the cost of a traffic light intersection isn't worth it for the traffic volume. Instead, you end up with big red STOP signs on each corner. Unlike the UK, where you can proceed at a junction like this if there's no oncoming traffic, here you are expected to stop fully for 3 seconds before moving on. In moving traffic, this rule allows for "zipper" movement, allowing one car in turn from each road to cross so no one road gets blocked by others. On a quiet night, however, it feels strange - made stranger still be item number 3:
3. Police as speed traps - each town has it's own police cars (each one is marked differently) and they are in part responsible for traffic safety within their borders. This includes the usual looking at missing tail lights and dealing with accidents, but also setting up speed traps. In somewhere like my hometown, where there's very little crime, the 3 police cars will often spend their time trying to catch people speeding (and not stopping fully at stop signs). On the one hand, it reduces the pressure of remembering where all the speed cameras are, and as you know there are very few police around, it's tempting to speed everywhere. However, the number of trees and winding roads means there are some great hiding places, so you do have to be careful how fast you go, especially given item 4:
4. Slow speed limits - this applies everywhere. Most roads in New Hampshire look like single lane highways to me, which indicates a 60 mph speed limit. In fact, most of them are 40 (or 45), and those designated as high population (lol) are even 30. It can feel like a snail's pace, especially as you know it's highly unlikely that you'll get busted due to the low police to roads ratio, but the fines are high and it's hard not to giggle (having watched Super Troopers too many times) when you're asked for your license and registration (for the record - this has happened once to me here for a broken tail light). The highway speeds in New Hampshire are 55 or 65 (with a minimum of 45) which makes number 5 even more frustrating:
5. Highway driving - this is one of the things that will drive my friends Vicky and Dave insane; they're from two different circles of friends, but equally irate about motorway driving rules. As far as I can work out, the rules are still the same as the UK, just mirrored. Right hand lane slow and for exits, middle for overtaking the right and left lane for overtaking the middle. However, this isn't the way it works at all. Most Americans refer to the left lane as the "fast lane" and treat it as such. I've happily been driving in the right lane and watched someone move from the middle to the left with no other cars on the road. I've also been driving in the middle lane overtaking one car and watched every single car stay in the middle lane, forcing everyone into 2 lanes. There's no sense of needing to move over, even when you're merging on, and people seem confused when I move to an empty right lane even when I'm driving at 75.
6. Move over for emergency vehicles - this is another one of Vicky's bug bears in the UK. However, in the US, it's the law that you are expected to pull over for an emergency vehicle with sirens on, even if you're on a two lane highway, and even if you're on the other side of the road. It seems excessive to me, but I guess the idea is that if you make it a big deal all of the time, then there's no ambiguity and everyone just gets out the way.
I think that's it for now. I'm sure there are other things that I've just added to my driving repertoire and now no longer consider strange, but they will be brought into sharp relief when I get behind the wheel of a British car again in July.
1. Right on red - Jeremy Clarkson once described this as America's only contribution to Western civilization, and while I disagree with the word "only", I do think it's one of the better road rules over here. The basic gist is to keep traffic moving, especially in rural states like New Hampshire, when you could be waiting for ages for a light to turn green with no traffic coming for miles. If you're at a red light and turning right, you may proceed if it's safe to do so after stopping. There are some intersections where you can't do this, and there will be a big sign saying NO RIGHT TURN ON RED to remind you. If it doesn't say it, you're free to go. It's exhilarating the first time you "run" a red light, but after a while, I wonder how I'll cope without it when I leave the US.
2. Stop means stop - again, this tends to apply to back roads and quieter city streets where the cost of a traffic light intersection isn't worth it for the traffic volume. Instead, you end up with big red STOP signs on each corner. Unlike the UK, where you can proceed at a junction like this if there's no oncoming traffic, here you are expected to stop fully for 3 seconds before moving on. In moving traffic, this rule allows for "zipper" movement, allowing one car in turn from each road to cross so no one road gets blocked by others. On a quiet night, however, it feels strange - made stranger still be item number 3:
3. Police as speed traps - each town has it's own police cars (each one is marked differently) and they are in part responsible for traffic safety within their borders. This includes the usual looking at missing tail lights and dealing with accidents, but also setting up speed traps. In somewhere like my hometown, where there's very little crime, the 3 police cars will often spend their time trying to catch people speeding (and not stopping fully at stop signs). On the one hand, it reduces the pressure of remembering where all the speed cameras are, and as you know there are very few police around, it's tempting to speed everywhere. However, the number of trees and winding roads means there are some great hiding places, so you do have to be careful how fast you go, especially given item 4:
4. Slow speed limits - this applies everywhere. Most roads in New Hampshire look like single lane highways to me, which indicates a 60 mph speed limit. In fact, most of them are 40 (or 45), and those designated as high population (lol) are even 30. It can feel like a snail's pace, especially as you know it's highly unlikely that you'll get busted due to the low police to roads ratio, but the fines are high and it's hard not to giggle (having watched Super Troopers too many times) when you're asked for your license and registration (for the record - this has happened once to me here for a broken tail light). The highway speeds in New Hampshire are 55 or 65 (with a minimum of 45) which makes number 5 even more frustrating:
5. Highway driving - this is one of the things that will drive my friends Vicky and Dave insane; they're from two different circles of friends, but equally irate about motorway driving rules. As far as I can work out, the rules are still the same as the UK, just mirrored. Right hand lane slow and for exits, middle for overtaking the right and left lane for overtaking the middle. However, this isn't the way it works at all. Most Americans refer to the left lane as the "fast lane" and treat it as such. I've happily been driving in the right lane and watched someone move from the middle to the left with no other cars on the road. I've also been driving in the middle lane overtaking one car and watched every single car stay in the middle lane, forcing everyone into 2 lanes. There's no sense of needing to move over, even when you're merging on, and people seem confused when I move to an empty right lane even when I'm driving at 75.
6. Move over for emergency vehicles - this is another one of Vicky's bug bears in the UK. However, in the US, it's the law that you are expected to pull over for an emergency vehicle with sirens on, even if you're on a two lane highway, and even if you're on the other side of the road. It seems excessive to me, but I guess the idea is that if you make it a big deal all of the time, then there's no ambiguity and everyone just gets out the way.
I think that's it for now. I'm sure there are other things that I've just added to my driving repertoire and now no longer consider strange, but they will be brought into sharp relief when I get behind the wheel of a British car again in July.
Saturday, 3 June 2017
June
As can be seen from the date of this post, this year is absolutely flying by. I had intended to write this on June 1st, but somehow time just seems to slip away too easily. That's probably because the pace of life is picking up, with my wife starting back into roller derby, my masters course starting and Jake's T-ball season continues. However, I wanted to stop and think about this month in particular, as it feels like an unusually important one in a variety of ways:
1. End of school
This feels bizarre to me still. Part of my brain is so deeply ingrained in the UK education system that the end of May feels like it should be holiday time (for Whitsun), but the end of school is then another 7+ weeks away. It feels strange to have 12 days left on my calendar, and that's even after the extension of 5 days due to the snow in the winter (which feels like a lifetime ago now!). The start of the school year in the end of August seems impossibly far away, and while last year I didn't really notice the change as I worked at a summer school, the long vacation seems both enticing (for me) and daunting (for my upcoming students to forget everything). While I'll never complain about a 10 week break, there is something to be said for multiple short vacations to keep everyone fresh.
2. Sophie turns 2
This is the craziest feeling. I could just about handle Jake turning 5 (this will feel more problematic when he starts school in September, but more on that in another post), but Sophie still feels like my little baby, so the idea that it's been 2 years since she was born seems mad. It's been a big year for her though, learning to walk, becoming much more sociable and learning to communicate (sometimes through sign, sometimes with words). Her birthday party is unlikely to be on the same scale as Jake's, most likely hanging at the lake like last year, but I already can't wait to see what her 3rd year is like.
3. Visitors
Beyond my immediate family, and a fleeting day visit from Dan in October, we have had no visitors since Mei Ying, James and Robin just after we arrived last year. This will change when our best friends arrive in New Hampshire later this month and stay for a couple of weeks. We always said that the biggest challenge of moving here is losing our tight knit group of friends in the UK, and this has proven to be the case. Even with faster internet making Skype calls manageable and enjoyable, there is something to be said for face to face communication, and the opportunity to generate new memories. This will be their first time out here, and we've always talked with them about the many different experiences that we can't wait to share with them. It's going to be great to have finished the school year and start the vacation by hanging out with my favorite people, showing them our new home and getting to act like tourists again.
4. Our first trip to the UK
One of the first posts on this blog was about the nature of home, and I've continued to discuss and think about this over the last 15 months. New Hampshire definitely feels more like home, and our house is becoming home more and more. Just typing the title of this paragraph made me pause, as my instinct was to say our first trip home, but that doesn't feel right either. We fly out on the 30th (the same day as our visitors, who we will see in Leeds the following day (no prolonged and sad goodbyes just yet!)) and spend a week in Leeds before flying to Italy to see my parents. Our time in Leeds already feels stressful, as we left so many good friends behind, we feel the need to see as many of them as possible for as long as possible. Because it's been so long since we've been there, people are taking time out of their schedules and travelling to see us, so it feels like our schedule is already squeezing tight. I just worry that we'll end up not seeing enough of everybody and that our time in Leeds will be over before we know it, and it will be a year (bar a couple of fleeting days in December) before we're back again. But this is one of the negative consequences of making the move, and hopefully we can do a good enough sales job on our friends that we persuade them to come visit and spend some longer quality time with just us.
It's going to be quite the month! My brain can't plan anything beyond the end of this month, so when people ask me about July and August, I just nod and write it down somewhere. As for next school year; well that just feels like another planet right now. I'll be glad when school is out and I can focus on the fun start to the summer vacation.
1. End of school
This feels bizarre to me still. Part of my brain is so deeply ingrained in the UK education system that the end of May feels like it should be holiday time (for Whitsun), but the end of school is then another 7+ weeks away. It feels strange to have 12 days left on my calendar, and that's even after the extension of 5 days due to the snow in the winter (which feels like a lifetime ago now!). The start of the school year in the end of August seems impossibly far away, and while last year I didn't really notice the change as I worked at a summer school, the long vacation seems both enticing (for me) and daunting (for my upcoming students to forget everything). While I'll never complain about a 10 week break, there is something to be said for multiple short vacations to keep everyone fresh.
2. Sophie turns 2
This is the craziest feeling. I could just about handle Jake turning 5 (this will feel more problematic when he starts school in September, but more on that in another post), but Sophie still feels like my little baby, so the idea that it's been 2 years since she was born seems mad. It's been a big year for her though, learning to walk, becoming much more sociable and learning to communicate (sometimes through sign, sometimes with words). Her birthday party is unlikely to be on the same scale as Jake's, most likely hanging at the lake like last year, but I already can't wait to see what her 3rd year is like.
3. Visitors
Beyond my immediate family, and a fleeting day visit from Dan in October, we have had no visitors since Mei Ying, James and Robin just after we arrived last year. This will change when our best friends arrive in New Hampshire later this month and stay for a couple of weeks. We always said that the biggest challenge of moving here is losing our tight knit group of friends in the UK, and this has proven to be the case. Even with faster internet making Skype calls manageable and enjoyable, there is something to be said for face to face communication, and the opportunity to generate new memories. This will be their first time out here, and we've always talked with them about the many different experiences that we can't wait to share with them. It's going to be great to have finished the school year and start the vacation by hanging out with my favorite people, showing them our new home and getting to act like tourists again.
4. Our first trip to the UK
One of the first posts on this blog was about the nature of home, and I've continued to discuss and think about this over the last 15 months. New Hampshire definitely feels more like home, and our house is becoming home more and more. Just typing the title of this paragraph made me pause, as my instinct was to say our first trip home, but that doesn't feel right either. We fly out on the 30th (the same day as our visitors, who we will see in Leeds the following day (no prolonged and sad goodbyes just yet!)) and spend a week in Leeds before flying to Italy to see my parents. Our time in Leeds already feels stressful, as we left so many good friends behind, we feel the need to see as many of them as possible for as long as possible. Because it's been so long since we've been there, people are taking time out of their schedules and travelling to see us, so it feels like our schedule is already squeezing tight. I just worry that we'll end up not seeing enough of everybody and that our time in Leeds will be over before we know it, and it will be a year (bar a couple of fleeting days in December) before we're back again. But this is one of the negative consequences of making the move, and hopefully we can do a good enough sales job on our friends that we persuade them to come visit and spend some longer quality time with just us.
It's going to be quite the month! My brain can't plan anything beyond the end of this month, so when people ask me about July and August, I just nod and write it down somewhere. As for next school year; well that just feels like another planet right now. I'll be glad when school is out and I can focus on the fun start to the summer vacation.
Sunday, 21 May 2017
The rest of the garden
I've been working slowly but steadily on a 12 x 12 foot vegetable garden over the last few weeks. While I'm now at the planting stage (finally!), I want to be truly done before documenting the process on here, as the more I do, the more proud I become. So I wanted to take some time here to talk about the other 65,000 square feet of land.
One of the big attractions of our house to us was the sheer amount of space that it provided to us. Our whole garden in Leeds could easily fit in the small semi circle contained by our driveway, so the idea that we have 1.5 acres of space more just still boggles my mind. It's not until you get outside and look at the property from different angles that you get a feel for just how much space there is available to us. That, and when you get the push mower out, work for an hour and realize that while you have Wembley-worthy stripes, you've still only covered half of one lawn, with another 2 to go.
Once again, our neighbors have been incredibly helpful. Nicholas, a charming man from the Dominican Republic, came over on his ride on mower after watching me struggle against the high grass (lesson 1: mow sooner after the snow melts next year!) and offered me the use of his machine. I got on, put it in gear, and giggled at how quickly and easily I was getting the mowing done. I did come unstuck in the truly long grass (lesson 2: change the height of the cutter so you don't overheat your neighbor's machine), but it did mean that I got to hang out with Nicholas and his wife for a while and chat about the ins and outs of Strafford, teaching and coming to America. All interesting stuff. While he has offered us permanent use of his ride on mower, I think I've now persuaded my wife to get one of our own (lesson 3: wait patiently before asking for the next big power tool/machine).
While this has been going on for the last week or so, the main inspiration for todays' post was Jake's birthday party today. It was the first proper one that we've had for him at our own home, so I was a little nervous about how it would work out. I was particularly nervous as we're now into the next of stage of putting down roots here: making our own friends. It was always going to be the case that we would find people with children of similar ages to Jake and Sophie, but today was the first time we'd hang out in a social setting rather than meeting at his school or T-ball games.
It turned out to be a great success, which is in part due to the sheer amount of space that we have outside. We discovered as we were setting up, that the house is beautifully designed for outdoor parties, with a great traffic flow from the kitchen and lower living room straight on the deck. We were able to set up a table of food on the deck, a table with a dozen chairs around it, Sophie's tent and play house and another dozen chairs elsewhere without really taking up too much space. This made me feel less bad about renting an enormous bouncy castle for the party; while it was huge, we put it on the side lawn and it seemed to just make sense of the space. The kids went absolutely nuts for it, and the combination of the bouncing and party food made the time fly. I stood there watching the flow of adults and kids and looked into the future of big get togethers (especially when my grill arrives! Lesson 4: buy local, but make sure they have it in stock! Currently on week 3 of waiting...) and chilled hang outs with our friends. While I'm proud and excited by my vegetable plot, the rest of the garden fills me with an equal amount of pleasure too.
One of the big attractions of our house to us was the sheer amount of space that it provided to us. Our whole garden in Leeds could easily fit in the small semi circle contained by our driveway, so the idea that we have 1.5 acres of space more just still boggles my mind. It's not until you get outside and look at the property from different angles that you get a feel for just how much space there is available to us. That, and when you get the push mower out, work for an hour and realize that while you have Wembley-worthy stripes, you've still only covered half of one lawn, with another 2 to go.
Once again, our neighbors have been incredibly helpful. Nicholas, a charming man from the Dominican Republic, came over on his ride on mower after watching me struggle against the high grass (lesson 1: mow sooner after the snow melts next year!) and offered me the use of his machine. I got on, put it in gear, and giggled at how quickly and easily I was getting the mowing done. I did come unstuck in the truly long grass (lesson 2: change the height of the cutter so you don't overheat your neighbor's machine), but it did mean that I got to hang out with Nicholas and his wife for a while and chat about the ins and outs of Strafford, teaching and coming to America. All interesting stuff. While he has offered us permanent use of his ride on mower, I think I've now persuaded my wife to get one of our own (lesson 3: wait patiently before asking for the next big power tool/machine).
While this has been going on for the last week or so, the main inspiration for todays' post was Jake's birthday party today. It was the first proper one that we've had for him at our own home, so I was a little nervous about how it would work out. I was particularly nervous as we're now into the next of stage of putting down roots here: making our own friends. It was always going to be the case that we would find people with children of similar ages to Jake and Sophie, but today was the first time we'd hang out in a social setting rather than meeting at his school or T-ball games.
It turned out to be a great success, which is in part due to the sheer amount of space that we have outside. We discovered as we were setting up, that the house is beautifully designed for outdoor parties, with a great traffic flow from the kitchen and lower living room straight on the deck. We were able to set up a table of food on the deck, a table with a dozen chairs around it, Sophie's tent and play house and another dozen chairs elsewhere without really taking up too much space. This made me feel less bad about renting an enormous bouncy castle for the party; while it was huge, we put it on the side lawn and it seemed to just make sense of the space. The kids went absolutely nuts for it, and the combination of the bouncing and party food made the time fly. I stood there watching the flow of adults and kids and looked into the future of big get togethers (especially when my grill arrives! Lesson 4: buy local, but make sure they have it in stock! Currently on week 3 of waiting...) and chilled hang outs with our friends. While I'm proud and excited by my vegetable plot, the rest of the garden fills me with an equal amount of pleasure too.
Tuesday, 18 April 2017
Field of dreams
Today marked a special occasion. Not a massive milestone or special date, but Jake's first outing as a competitive sports player for a team. Given the focus on sports and extra curricular activities over here, we're likely to see both kids have active schedules over the years (as well as ourselves - my wife is currently out at her first roller derby practice!), so I wanted to just mark the first one.
T-ball (baseball for little kids) is a strange concept for me as a team sport for kids aged 4, 5 and 6. They can manage to hit fairly well, and the concept of throwing is easily taught. However, the catching and fielding part is where I see the game falling down. In the event that they manage to get down low enough to stop the inevitable ground balls in time, you've then got to convince them to throw the ball accurately enough to someone on first base (where I see most plays being made) and for the first base player to stop the ball and avoid it going foul. I know it's meant to be fun and an introduction to the game, but I just hope it doesn't end up being frustrating for him or his team mates.
The main point of this post, though, is to talk about Jake. Since I'm now operating a One Blog policy (or One Blog To Rule Them All), this would normally have gone on my Just Jaking blog, but it now will live here. It was a strange sensation to watch Jake playing as a part of a team, with a coach telling him what to do and seeing how he acts around other kids. He ran for the whole time with a massive smile on his face, and even managed to remember to put the glove on the opposite hand to all the other kids. He did his usual thing of watching everyone and everything carefully, and it was delightful to see how he joined in. The funniest part was watching the seriousness with which he played Simon Says at the end - a true rule follower.
He's still young enough that I can get a wave from him and a hug during the water break, but I know those days will be numbered. I remember what seemed like an odd conversation with my dad when Jake was learning to walk. He said "the tough part of being a parent is letting them go, but you've got to start early to make it easy." I didn't quite get what he meant till this afternoon, realizing that the time is starting when we will slowly move to a different position in Jake's life; cheerleaders and life coaches instead of default playmates. We're a number of years (hopefully) away from the full transition, but it marks the next step in our parenting adventure.
T-ball (baseball for little kids) is a strange concept for me as a team sport for kids aged 4, 5 and 6. They can manage to hit fairly well, and the concept of throwing is easily taught. However, the catching and fielding part is where I see the game falling down. In the event that they manage to get down low enough to stop the inevitable ground balls in time, you've then got to convince them to throw the ball accurately enough to someone on first base (where I see most plays being made) and for the first base player to stop the ball and avoid it going foul. I know it's meant to be fun and an introduction to the game, but I just hope it doesn't end up being frustrating for him or his team mates.
The main point of this post, though, is to talk about Jake. Since I'm now operating a One Blog policy (or One Blog To Rule Them All), this would normally have gone on my Just Jaking blog, but it now will live here. It was a strange sensation to watch Jake playing as a part of a team, with a coach telling him what to do and seeing how he acts around other kids. He ran for the whole time with a massive smile on his face, and even managed to remember to put the glove on the opposite hand to all the other kids. He did his usual thing of watching everyone and everything carefully, and it was delightful to see how he joined in. The funniest part was watching the seriousness with which he played Simon Says at the end - a true rule follower.
He's still young enough that I can get a wave from him and a hug during the water break, but I know those days will be numbered. I remember what seemed like an odd conversation with my dad when Jake was learning to walk. He said "the tough part of being a parent is letting them go, but you've got to start early to make it easy." I didn't quite get what he meant till this afternoon, realizing that the time is starting when we will slowly move to a different position in Jake's life; cheerleaders and life coaches instead of default playmates. We're a number of years (hopefully) away from the full transition, but it marks the next step in our parenting adventure.
Monday, 17 April 2017
Living the dream
Ask me what I did tonight after we put the kids to bed, and I would reply "I painted bee hives in my basement!" I'm not sure that the fact that I have a basement, and that it's big enough and well lit enough to paint in, adds to the excitement, but the painting of the hives makes the next part of the dream become real.
When we decided that we would actually move, one of our drivers to get here was to live out our dreams. Admittedly, they are slightly different if you ask me or my wife, but overall there's a desire for an outdoors woodsy childhood for our kids, a sense of exploration inside New Hampshire and out into North America and a general ability to do things that we would never get to do in our lives as they were in the UK. We check in with each other to make sure we're still "living the dream", which is a code word for doing things out of the ordinary that bring us joy.
I write this post as there's been a few instances of recently of when I've found myself in "living the dream" moments, some of which were dreams that I had had before, and some of which I didn't know were part of "living the dream" until they happened.
T-ball
Sports start early in America, and they start up quickly. Jake is now old enough to qualify for pre-K T-ball (like baseball, but the ball starts on a tee for you to hit instead of being thrown at you by a pitcher) and so we signed him up for a 5 week taster course. We of course bought him a glove, ball and tee and we went each week. He ran around with a smile on his face, and it was delightful to see him interact with others and take pleasure in a group sport. As a result, we've now signed him up for a team, and the first weekly practice (!) session is tomorrow afternoon, with a game most Saturdays between now and July. There'll be another post just about this whole process, but I'm excited to have him playing team sports.
Playing in the yard
For most of our time in this house so far, it has either been too dark or too cold or too covered in feet of snow to play in our garden. However, we finally seem to have reached the end of winter, and while this week is predicted to be only in the 50s, we had a few days of summer like heat and sunshine at the end of last week. The dream moment happened on Friday night when my wife got home from work with Jake. I had been at home with Sophie that day, and was itching to get out of the house, so I invited Jake to come play T-ball outside. We got all the stuff together, set up the tee and spent a glorious half an hour hitting the ball as a far as he could down the yard. It was at that moment that I realized how much space we have, and how much I love where we live. There was that beautiful golden setting sunlight, a summer warmth in the air and the giggle of my children outside, and if that's not living the dream, I don't know what is.
Teaching with technology
Not every part of living the dream happens at home, and this is one of the moments which I didn't realize I wanted to happen, but was so glad when it did. I'm lucky enough to teach in a school which has provided 1:1 Chromebooks for the students in 3-5th grade, and I've taken up the challenge to see how I can transform their learning using these tools. It's been a slog at times to show them how to use the different apps and extensions, but the cloud aspect and ability to share and collaborate continues to amaze me. Two moments in particular stand out for me: the first was a group of students who were researching a short term project together. Without discussing with me, they had set up one Google Slide show, assigned each of them a topic to search and decided on the format of their own slide as a way of pooling resources. It was such a neat interactive way to take notes, done so independently, that I realized just how far we've come. The second happened on Friday when I was home with Sophie. She was taking a snooze, and I noticed that at that time the students would be in math, working on Google Drawings of parallel and perpendicular lines. They thought it was a bit freaky but also really useful that I popped on their work, commenting in real time from 25 miles away on what they were doing, chivvying them along and discussing the next steps. It's moments like that that make teaching rewarding as you find new and innovative ways to engage students.
Not every "living the dream" moment has to be big, or grand. In fact, I like the fact that a lot of these moments that validate our move for me and that bring me so much joy are the small ones that can be savored and repeated. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for our first big road trip or our first canoe adventure, but in the meantime, I will be living the dream in many smaller ways just as happily.
When we decided that we would actually move, one of our drivers to get here was to live out our dreams. Admittedly, they are slightly different if you ask me or my wife, but overall there's a desire for an outdoors woodsy childhood for our kids, a sense of exploration inside New Hampshire and out into North America and a general ability to do things that we would never get to do in our lives as they were in the UK. We check in with each other to make sure we're still "living the dream", which is a code word for doing things out of the ordinary that bring us joy.
I write this post as there's been a few instances of recently of when I've found myself in "living the dream" moments, some of which were dreams that I had had before, and some of which I didn't know were part of "living the dream" until they happened.
T-ball
Sports start early in America, and they start up quickly. Jake is now old enough to qualify for pre-K T-ball (like baseball, but the ball starts on a tee for you to hit instead of being thrown at you by a pitcher) and so we signed him up for a 5 week taster course. We of course bought him a glove, ball and tee and we went each week. He ran around with a smile on his face, and it was delightful to see him interact with others and take pleasure in a group sport. As a result, we've now signed him up for a team, and the first weekly practice (!) session is tomorrow afternoon, with a game most Saturdays between now and July. There'll be another post just about this whole process, but I'm excited to have him playing team sports.
Playing in the yard
For most of our time in this house so far, it has either been too dark or too cold or too covered in feet of snow to play in our garden. However, we finally seem to have reached the end of winter, and while this week is predicted to be only in the 50s, we had a few days of summer like heat and sunshine at the end of last week. The dream moment happened on Friday night when my wife got home from work with Jake. I had been at home with Sophie that day, and was itching to get out of the house, so I invited Jake to come play T-ball outside. We got all the stuff together, set up the tee and spent a glorious half an hour hitting the ball as a far as he could down the yard. It was at that moment that I realized how much space we have, and how much I love where we live. There was that beautiful golden setting sunlight, a summer warmth in the air and the giggle of my children outside, and if that's not living the dream, I don't know what is.
Teaching with technology
Not every part of living the dream happens at home, and this is one of the moments which I didn't realize I wanted to happen, but was so glad when it did. I'm lucky enough to teach in a school which has provided 1:1 Chromebooks for the students in 3-5th grade, and I've taken up the challenge to see how I can transform their learning using these tools. It's been a slog at times to show them how to use the different apps and extensions, but the cloud aspect and ability to share and collaborate continues to amaze me. Two moments in particular stand out for me: the first was a group of students who were researching a short term project together. Without discussing with me, they had set up one Google Slide show, assigned each of them a topic to search and decided on the format of their own slide as a way of pooling resources. It was such a neat interactive way to take notes, done so independently, that I realized just how far we've come. The second happened on Friday when I was home with Sophie. She was taking a snooze, and I noticed that at that time the students would be in math, working on Google Drawings of parallel and perpendicular lines. They thought it was a bit freaky but also really useful that I popped on their work, commenting in real time from 25 miles away on what they were doing, chivvying them along and discussing the next steps. It's moments like that that make teaching rewarding as you find new and innovative ways to engage students.
Not every "living the dream" moment has to be big, or grand. In fact, I like the fact that a lot of these moments that validate our move for me and that bring me so much joy are the small ones that can be savored and repeated. Don't get me wrong, I can't wait for our first big road trip or our first canoe adventure, but in the meantime, I will be living the dream in many smaller ways just as happily.
Monday, 10 April 2017
The end of the beginning
I'll start this post that marks a year of us being in the US with a text from my mum: "So when do you stop being an alien?". It was a great question that stopped me in my tracks. I had been planning sort of a review style post, with some musings and reflections. I think I'll still write that at some point this week, as well as revisiting my predictions post from the very beginning (almost like I planned that one!). But for today, I want to try and think about an answer to Mum's question.
On a tangible level, I am now 1 year done out of a 3 year "trial" period. Assuming that I do everything right, I'll be able to apply for my US citizenship in early 2019, joining the blue passport gang in my house. It's a decision that we'll definitely make, with concerns over Brexit and getting the ability to be able to vote among the primary drivers. I feel a little guilty, as while my wife qualified for British citizenship a number of years back, we only had the cash to do so in the year before we left the UK, by which point it didn't seem worth it. However, as we're planning on staying here indefinitely, I want the right to vote, and not to have worry about visas or being a legal alien. I will maintain my UK citizenship, of course, which still remains an essential part of who I am.
However, I doubt that a US passport will automatically change my status to non-alien, at least mentally. I think that that process takes a lot longer, and is a much more gradual and subtle process. In part, I think the transition away from alienhood will happen linguistically. I find that the American terms and phrases that come up a lot in my day to life (period for full stop, gas instead of petrol, referring to general money as dollars instead of pounds, etc) come more naturally out of mouth, but I still have to think a few words ahead to make sure that I'm "translating" correctly. I also am more aware of having to change the way I pronounce certain words, and while I know that parts of my accent will stay the same, I'm also aware that there will be words and phrases that will sound more American (despite not being able to "do" an American accent!) and that I won't be able to hear these until someone points it out to me.
In part, the transition will come behaviorally. I now accept that adding 20% tip onto a meal is appropriate, and have been known to do more for better service. Driving on the right hand side has become second nature, to the point where we were watching a show set in the UK and it took me a while to realize why I felt nervous during driving scenes. I find myself dressing more American, with more polo shirts and slacks at the weekend than I ever thought possible.
The biggest change I feel will happen socially. This for me is the hardest thing to acclimatise to, and the one that most often makes me like an alien. The two examples that stand out for me are small talk and banter.
I don't know if it's a personal thing or a British thing, but I find small talk hard. Fortunately, most Americans are great at it, and I have a built in talking ticket in being British which means I can get by. However, it's the start of conversations that I find hard. In the UK, it wouldn't be weird for me to start a conversation with a colleague at work in the morning by saying their name and getting started. Here, you need to go through the whole "Hi, how are you?" "I'm fine, how are you?" dance, and I still tend to forget. I worry that I sometimes come across as rude or uncouth, but it's still not part of my alien DNA yet.
The other thing I find hard is banter and joking with people. The large majority of Americans that I have met fall into two categories - incredibly earnest and genuine, and so deadpan sarcastic that it takes me a while to see the twinkle in their eye. I didn't pick up on the first group for ages, and my usual way of making friends by gently teasing people and beating up on them for fun fell on deaf ears and surprised looks for a long while. My brain often supplies quick quips and put downs that I know would make a British audience laugh, but I have to supress this a lot for the risk of being seen to be mean. I don't know if that little voice inside my head will ever stop, but it's hard work turning it off sometimes. The second group of people are much more fun to hang out with, as I recognize a lot of my own sense of humour with them, but it's hard to have these terribly sarcastic conversations where it's almost like a competition to see who can keep a straight face for longest.
So, back to the question that kicked this post off. I've been here for a year now, and there are times when I feel so very British and foreign, but other times (more frequently) where I don't notice my own foreigness for ages until I say or do something that raises an eyebrow or gets a laugh unintentionally. The other, perhaps more pertinent, question may be "do I want to stop being an alien?", and that is a much deeper and harder question to answer.
So with that in mind, and much to my wife's pleasure, I'm not going to put this blog down as I feel that there's much more alienness to discover and reflect on. However, the title has changed, much to my wife's chagrin (who knew she cared that much about my blogs!) to reflect the longer term nature of the process. Here's to more adventures in year 2!
On a tangible level, I am now 1 year done out of a 3 year "trial" period. Assuming that I do everything right, I'll be able to apply for my US citizenship in early 2019, joining the blue passport gang in my house. It's a decision that we'll definitely make, with concerns over Brexit and getting the ability to be able to vote among the primary drivers. I feel a little guilty, as while my wife qualified for British citizenship a number of years back, we only had the cash to do so in the year before we left the UK, by which point it didn't seem worth it. However, as we're planning on staying here indefinitely, I want the right to vote, and not to have worry about visas or being a legal alien. I will maintain my UK citizenship, of course, which still remains an essential part of who I am.
However, I doubt that a US passport will automatically change my status to non-alien, at least mentally. I think that that process takes a lot longer, and is a much more gradual and subtle process. In part, I think the transition away from alienhood will happen linguistically. I find that the American terms and phrases that come up a lot in my day to life (period for full stop, gas instead of petrol, referring to general money as dollars instead of pounds, etc) come more naturally out of mouth, but I still have to think a few words ahead to make sure that I'm "translating" correctly. I also am more aware of having to change the way I pronounce certain words, and while I know that parts of my accent will stay the same, I'm also aware that there will be words and phrases that will sound more American (despite not being able to "do" an American accent!) and that I won't be able to hear these until someone points it out to me.
In part, the transition will come behaviorally. I now accept that adding 20% tip onto a meal is appropriate, and have been known to do more for better service. Driving on the right hand side has become second nature, to the point where we were watching a show set in the UK and it took me a while to realize why I felt nervous during driving scenes. I find myself dressing more American, with more polo shirts and slacks at the weekend than I ever thought possible.
The biggest change I feel will happen socially. This for me is the hardest thing to acclimatise to, and the one that most often makes me like an alien. The two examples that stand out for me are small talk and banter.
I don't know if it's a personal thing or a British thing, but I find small talk hard. Fortunately, most Americans are great at it, and I have a built in talking ticket in being British which means I can get by. However, it's the start of conversations that I find hard. In the UK, it wouldn't be weird for me to start a conversation with a colleague at work in the morning by saying their name and getting started. Here, you need to go through the whole "Hi, how are you?" "I'm fine, how are you?" dance, and I still tend to forget. I worry that I sometimes come across as rude or uncouth, but it's still not part of my alien DNA yet.
The other thing I find hard is banter and joking with people. The large majority of Americans that I have met fall into two categories - incredibly earnest and genuine, and so deadpan sarcastic that it takes me a while to see the twinkle in their eye. I didn't pick up on the first group for ages, and my usual way of making friends by gently teasing people and beating up on them for fun fell on deaf ears and surprised looks for a long while. My brain often supplies quick quips and put downs that I know would make a British audience laugh, but I have to supress this a lot for the risk of being seen to be mean. I don't know if that little voice inside my head will ever stop, but it's hard work turning it off sometimes. The second group of people are much more fun to hang out with, as I recognize a lot of my own sense of humour with them, but it's hard to have these terribly sarcastic conversations where it's almost like a competition to see who can keep a straight face for longest.
So, back to the question that kicked this post off. I've been here for a year now, and there are times when I feel so very British and foreign, but other times (more frequently) where I don't notice my own foreigness for ages until I say or do something that raises an eyebrow or gets a laugh unintentionally. The other, perhaps more pertinent, question may be "do I want to stop being an alien?", and that is a much deeper and harder question to answer.
So with that in mind, and much to my wife's pleasure, I'm not going to put this blog down as I feel that there's much more alienness to discover and reflect on. However, the title has changed, much to my wife's chagrin (who knew she cared that much about my blogs!) to reflect the longer term nature of the process. Here's to more adventures in year 2!
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