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.
Sunday, 21 May 2017
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!
Friday, 7 April 2017
Lessons from the snow
For many years, I always relished coming to the US each winter so that I could finally get my hands on some serious snow. It was a constant source of amusement to friends and family over here about my childlike enthusiasm, and I've been known to make all sorts of snow sculptures while everyone else is inside by the fire. "Just you wait," they all said "just you wait till you move over here and it feels like it never stops snowing. Then see how you like it!"
It's now April 7th (one thing I've become used to is saying and writing the date the American way (and indeed not referring to the American way of doing things as "the wrong way" unless I'm deliberately being obnoxious), and this post has been in the back of my mind for a month or so now. That is, since around the time when I would have thought that all the snow would be gone and spring would have started. You know, around the time when the clocks went back and everyone announced the first day of spring. I waited and waited for the last snow storm before writing this, and while I'm fairly sure we're done for this eternal winter, I wanted to get the post written anyway as tomorrow marks the year anniversary of the move and the theoretical end of the blog.
So to start with a summary, do I still love the snow? I think on balance yes. There's still something exciting about snow that comes up to your shins, and I have dozens of photos of the snow laiden trees and the black and white landscapes of the early mornings, which are even more stunning when coupled with the beautifully crisp and clear sunshine days that intersperse the snow clouds. There's something impressive about a snow storm that lasts for 24 hours, and a certain incredulousness as you watch the forecast amounts increase from a few inches to 1-2 feet.
There are, of course, some downsides. The frequency and reliability of heavy snowfalls each winter means that you make up snow days at the end of the school year, meaning that we get out on June 22nd instead of June 15th. A mental note for future visitors and summer trips away to bear that in mind! Also, the snow plow crews do an amazing job of clearing the public roads (even our backwater street gets cleared by 6am!) so it's over to you to clear your driveway and get to work (unless you work in schools and have a snow day). That means, at least in our house, that my wife had to go to work, and I had to go snow blow a path out at 6am; no mean feat when the snow is still falling and the wind whips down the street, threatening to freeze off all my extremities.
With that in mind, I want record some lessons that I've learned from the snow this year so that I'm better prepared for next season:
1. When you have the thought "I should go fill up the gas can so that my snow blower doesn't run out of gas in the next storm", do it that day - I managed to get all bar the last 3 yards done on one tank, but I would have been screwed if the snow had kept coming!
2. Always have the right tools - this ranges from having a decent snowblower (check) to having fleece lined trousers, decent gloves and face protection from the wind (all now check). It also applies to a shovel and ice basher (my terminology, not necessarily correct!). Our walkway to the front door regularly freezes over and initially I bought an aluminium shovel to clear it. After bending it in half on the second attempt, I went back to the store and bought the heavy duty basher which I had considered before, and cleared the ice in half the time.
3. Snowblow often - the first few snowstorms, I waited until the snow had ended, and the plows had hit the ends of the driveway. Big mistake. While there was only 8 inches or so in real terms, the wind blows hard down our street, causing all the snow to drift, and my poor snowblower and I struggled to clear the driveway. The other drawback of waiting is that the snow plows push another foot of snow onto anything you haven't hit yet, and my snowblower only clears 2 feet vertically.
4. The post office has diagrams for bozos who don't clear a path to their mailboxes - I know the importance of this now, but after 2 days of polite notices in our mailbox, and my wife berating me to go and do it, I got the hint. However, when I went to clear it, the drifts around the mailbox were 3 feet high and compacted. I couldn't shovel the snow to the side or behind me onto the road, so I spent a backbreaking hour clearing a rough path. It becomes easier as spring approaches and the snow melts quicker, but I still need to be out there sooner.
5. The correct way to clear the driveway - after many different experiments, I think I have the ultimate route. Clear the left hand driveway in stripes, then continue to cut round to the right hand garage door. Make one last pass up the left driveway, then approach the right (and higher drifting) driveway from the road. Continue back and forth in stripes, then tidy up the remaining triangle. Don't be afraid to blow snow onto the areas that you haven't cleared yet, especially when the wind dictates the direction you can blow in.
In summary, therefore, I think I still like the snow, but I won't be sad for it all to go and for warmer weather to start arriving next week!
Wednesday, 29 March 2017
A different perspective
It is with much incredulity that our one year anniversary of the Big Move is coming up in a few weeks, a fact which is motivating me to get some thoughts written on here, as well as to think about what to do with the blog in the future. I had in mind that it would chart my first 12 months here and then end, but I realize that I enjoy writing and reflecting, and it's even more fun to look back at old posts and see how far we've come. On the other hand, do I just put it down as a one year blog, and splinter into other topics that I want to record, such as the bees and our discovery of New Hampshire's great outdoors? Thoughts on a postcard (or a comment!).
I want to revisit some of my first few musings over here in future posts, but today is a more somber topic. Today, Primer Minister Theresa May handed over the letter (a letter! In 2017! Why not tweet?) signalling the UK's intention to withdraw from the EU. I'm still heartbroken by this, as I like to think of myself as a European citizen, part of a great social network of people with multiple languages and cultures able to live and work in closer harmony and unity. For a ridiculous uninformed referendum run solely for the personal political pride of David Cameron to ruin this for me, my generation and my children's generations to come is beyond belief, but then a lot has happened in this last year that I still can't get my head around. I had dreams of being able to tell Jake and Sophie that they could live and work in 30 countries with their 2 passports, and that they should be proud of their British and European heritage. While I still want them to feel British in part, I question how British I feel if this is what the country is moving towards.
I think the problem is that I still feel helpless and powerless about it, a fact which is exacerbated over here by the fact that British news rarely makes it into the public consciousness (which is fair enough, given the shit storm that has engulfed America since January 20th), so even though it's weighing heavily on my mind, there's not a huge number of people here that I can talk to. For sure, I got sympathy at work when I expressed my sadness today, but it was more the kind of sympathy that you give someone who has suffered a bereavement of a distant and unknown relative, rather than someone who has had an integral part of their personality ripped off by a politician. My best connection at work is someone who has a British mother, and while we bemoaned the process for a few minutes and I ranted about how I don't want to pull together as per Theresa May, she politely ended the conversation by saying that maybe we need to accept facts and work together. While I understand her sentiment, it wasn't the kind of response I was looking for, or one that I would have got from a UK colleague.
This different perspective was brought out in a less stressful light this week at lunch. As there are only 3 male teachers at school, we tend to gravitate towards each other and end up eating lunch together most days. We talk sports, and I have learned a lot about football (it still irks me not to call it American football!) and now college basketball with March Madness. It wasn't until this week that one of them brought up soccer and the fact that they had become briefly interested with it a few years back. Now I'm not going to pretend that I have vast football conversations with my friends in the UK regularly, and definitely not at work, and indeed that I've not loved learning about a whole new sporting culture, but I miss having people who know about and get excited the Leicester City story, England's new manager and the current set up in the Premier League. Maybe it's because our lives don't lend themselves greatly to meeting people with those interests, but again it's been interesting to see a different perspective on the things that I consider to be big and important topics.
I want to revisit some of my first few musings over here in future posts, but today is a more somber topic. Today, Primer Minister Theresa May handed over the letter (a letter! In 2017! Why not tweet?) signalling the UK's intention to withdraw from the EU. I'm still heartbroken by this, as I like to think of myself as a European citizen, part of a great social network of people with multiple languages and cultures able to live and work in closer harmony and unity. For a ridiculous uninformed referendum run solely for the personal political pride of David Cameron to ruin this for me, my generation and my children's generations to come is beyond belief, but then a lot has happened in this last year that I still can't get my head around. I had dreams of being able to tell Jake and Sophie that they could live and work in 30 countries with their 2 passports, and that they should be proud of their British and European heritage. While I still want them to feel British in part, I question how British I feel if this is what the country is moving towards.
I think the problem is that I still feel helpless and powerless about it, a fact which is exacerbated over here by the fact that British news rarely makes it into the public consciousness (which is fair enough, given the shit storm that has engulfed America since January 20th), so even though it's weighing heavily on my mind, there's not a huge number of people here that I can talk to. For sure, I got sympathy at work when I expressed my sadness today, but it was more the kind of sympathy that you give someone who has suffered a bereavement of a distant and unknown relative, rather than someone who has had an integral part of their personality ripped off by a politician. My best connection at work is someone who has a British mother, and while we bemoaned the process for a few minutes and I ranted about how I don't want to pull together as per Theresa May, she politely ended the conversation by saying that maybe we need to accept facts and work together. While I understand her sentiment, it wasn't the kind of response I was looking for, or one that I would have got from a UK colleague.
This different perspective was brought out in a less stressful light this week at lunch. As there are only 3 male teachers at school, we tend to gravitate towards each other and end up eating lunch together most days. We talk sports, and I have learned a lot about football (it still irks me not to call it American football!) and now college basketball with March Madness. It wasn't until this week that one of them brought up soccer and the fact that they had become briefly interested with it a few years back. Now I'm not going to pretend that I have vast football conversations with my friends in the UK regularly, and definitely not at work, and indeed that I've not loved learning about a whole new sporting culture, but I miss having people who know about and get excited the Leicester City story, England's new manager and the current set up in the Premier League. Maybe it's because our lives don't lend themselves greatly to meeting people with those interests, but again it's been interesting to see a different perspective on the things that I consider to be big and important topics.
Saturday, 18 February 2017
Taxes
I've always heard Americans complaining about taxes, and there's numerous quotes comparing them negatively, so it was with good reason that I embarked on my first ever tax return with some trepidation. It's seems like such a strange system after living in the UK, where unless you mess up your tax code by moving job or being unemployed, your only dealing with the tax man is your P60 (W-2 over here) as all your tax is taken at source in your pay check. The same happens here, which is why I was initially confused about why you need to file tax returns as we were already paying federal taxes through our pay checks.
However, after a lot of online reading and working my way through the system with the help of Turbo Tax ($35 and I couldn't have been happier with the help and guidance provided!), I now have a better idea of the system and why the returns happen in the way they do here. Here is how I understand things:
- You get paid by your employer, who withholds a certain amount of money each month to cover your federal tax, social security and Medicare contributions (which I compare to National Insurance). At the end of the year (which helpfully runs 1st Jan to 31st Dec!) you get sent a statement of what you got paid and how much they withheld.
- Your total earnings put you into a tax bracket, whereby you pay a base rate plus a certain percentage of everything over that base rate. This is how much tax you owe each year.
- You can claim deductions against your tax, including child tax credits, childcare expenses, health care expenses and others.
- If your tax owed is more than your deductions, you pay the IRS. If your deductions are more than your tax bill, you get paid the difference as a tax refund.
I know this is a simplified version, but it's helpful to me now (and probably will be next year!) to have my understanding of it written down. The yearly returns replace the different benefits and credits that the UK system offers as different packages. For example, we got a set payment to help with the cost of raising 2 kids, and were able to pay for "childcare vouchers" before tax was applied to help with the cost of childcare. The US government does the same, but has it as all part of the same system, meaning that I only have to deal with one set of paperwork.
I decided to file online as my previous experiences trying to fill in taxes for Kelsey for her earnings abroad confused me greatly. Even though each form comes with a helpful explanation sheet, there's a lot of terminology that I wasn't sure about, and I didn't want to start my dealings with the IRS with a mistake ridden return. Fortunately, the program I chose not only filled in the form for me by using my answers to its questions, but I was able to click on any words or terms that I didn't know and got a succinct and clear explanation of what it meant and how it applied to my situation. It took me about an hour, but I was pleased with the process and came away with a better understanding of the tax system over here.
As for the result? Well, let's just say we are entitled to a bigger tax return that we had anticipated, and that, all things being equal, it should hit our account in 3 weeks. There's a residual wariness of getting money from the taxman, as I've had situations in the UK where I've been sent a tax refund and spent it, only for HMRC to ask for it back a few months later. However, I've been assured that this is a legit process, and the money is ours to spend any way we see fit. I doubt we'll get as much of a return next year, but the idea of having an unexpected windfall each year will help with our travel and home improvement plans greatly!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)