A year at home

One of the interesting things about anniversaries and important dates is how and when you use them to mark time. We have our birthdays and weddings (though for my wife and I, we have 3 wedding dates to choose from, but only one birthday between us), but the move over here is also marked in our calendars (not diaries, over here at least!) as it demarcates the end of one chapter of our lives and the start of the next.

Today also marks another important anniversary - a year in our first American home. In the same way that I can't believe that it also marks 18 months of us being here (we moved in exactly 6 months after we arrived), a year in this house seems to have gone by very quickly. The transition from our family house in the UK to my in-laws was strange, but familiar at the same time. Finding this place and going through the whole purchasing process was the first time that our move here felt permanent, even with jobs and a new car. Buying a house means putting down roots and signalling our intent to stay here, to become part of the community, to have our kids grow up in Strafford's school system and for us to have a family home to return home to each day. 

I remember with clarity the first night here, giving the kids a bath and thinking how weird it would be for that bath time to feel normal and for the whole newness of the house to become familiarity. To a certain extent, it has, but I still feel a rush of excitement sometimes when I catch a glimpse of a new angle of the house or just admire another facet that I hadn't noticed before. For example, being able to host a birthday party with an enormous bouncy castle that didn't seem to take up any space, or having a Christmas tree that was 10 feet plus tall that I could look down on, or simply standing in the back and looking up at the trees, feeling small and protected by them. 

We have made some interesting discoveries. In November, about a month after moving in, we woke one morning to find that it was absolutely freezing in the house. The heating, which had been working fine, was off and we didn't really want to pay someone to come and fix it. We called my father in law, who's first question was "when was the last time someone delivered oil?". Problem solved, but it was a revelation to realize that we weren't connected to any sort of communal heating, water or sewage supply - everything is in our house. The only thing we have "delivered" is electricity, but we're planning on solar panels so that we can be more self-sufficient. In March, I finally gave up my battle with our incredibly slow (but cheap) satellite internet service and paid off our contract. We now have high speed cable, meaning that video calls back to the UK are easy and fun - some times, you can't put a price on things. In June, with guests visiting and having boasted about the quality of our water, we found that it was turning orange and metallic - a sure sign of iron. Cue a discovery about the intense filtration system that we have downstairs that we hadn't paid attention to and needed servicing. I love the idea of having water coming from the ground underneath us, but it sure makes you appreciate what Yorkshire Water does - including having to give the kids fluoride pills as there's none in the water here.

We have done our usual house trick of not really doing anything for the first year. We have 2 pieces of art on the wall and a good stock of second hand and discount furniture to see us through when the kids are young. We bought something that was too big for our house (a canoe) but managed to find a home for it. We have managed to keep half a handle on the garden, but it will need more TLC next year. I guess the big difference is that we have invested in some nice furniture with a plan for more and the sheer amount of space available to us has made us more cautious about filling it with stuff. 

It feels like a long time since my childhood friend Dan and I climbed the tree in the back yard instead of unpacking, and even longer since we first stepped through the door and gaped at the size of the house we were looking at. This house has seen Jake start kindergarten, Sophie get her hearing fixed and learning to walk and talk, a new change of career plan for my wife and a successful first year for me as I start my new adventure in American education. By the time October 8th rolls around next year, Kelsey will be knee deep in her masters course, Jake will be in first grade and Sophie will be at preschool. We may or may not have updated the house further, but it will feel more and more like home home every day. 

Post script

None of this would have been possible without the legacy of Gran, and the irony is that if she was around for me to Skype and share this home with her, we probably wouldn't be here. It's a tough balancing act to manage, but she stipulated that the money should be used to do something that you wouldn't otherwise be able to do. I'd say moving wholesale to America into a house that is 4 times our previous one with enough land that my 144 square feet vegetable garden makes no dent in the acreage fits this bill, and for that I will always be truly grateful to Gran. 

American Values

Part of the fun of being a foreigner is the feeling of insider knowledge that you get from truly experiencing another country for an extended period of time. Gone are the familiar stereotypes and even some of the surface observations that you make as a visitor here - the experience of day to day living surrounded by American people, American news and American culture offers an unrivaled view into another way of life. It's fun to be able to offer our visitors some of these deeper insights, such as the earnestness of most Americans I've met, and the social norms such as the traditional American small talk of trying to find some sort of connection through ancestry or social group.

On the other hand, it reveals certain truths and ugliness that are hard to see from the outside, especially with the rose tinted view afforded by holidays. I started writing this post in my head during last week's NFL protests, but I feel compelled to put pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) after the events in Las Vegas and their dissection by the media and politicians.

The NFL protests - kneeling during the national anthem - were, I think, intended as a way of bringing to focus social injustice in terms of the underlying racism that still exists in large swathes of America. However, the national anthem, along with the flag, is held in high reverence here and to do anything other than stand and remove one's hat is seen to be the height of treason (regardless of the fact that most people sit when they hear it on TV).

The confusion lies in the belief that the flag and anthem stand for "American values" and that all Americans, regardless of who they are or where they're from, should be proud to stand for the flag. Indeed, we start every day at school pledging blind allegiance to the flag, assuming that we know what we're pledging. The issue here is what you consider to be American values (a similar debate has raged in the UK education system about British values, but that's for another post). If you take the pledge of allegiance, the main values (I think) come from the last sentence - liberty and justice for all. In that sense, I agree with the protesters - we don't have either of those, so any way that you can find to raise awareness of this is worth pursuing. If you take the national anthem, the values that come through again stem from the last line - the land of the free and the home of the brave. This idea of bravery runs deep in America, and often the national anthem/flag debate gets wrapped up with veterans and the army, so by kneeling for justice, protesters are seen to be disrespecting the army who protect this land of the free and brave (this, again, is another post in the making).

If you take the constitution as your guide for American values, you end up with a great mix of ideas. On the one hand, the idea that all men are created equal doesn't seem to run true, while on the other there are some knotty issues about the extent of free speech as seen in the recent events in Charlottesville. You are also adhering to a text written 250 years ago in an age where America was being forged against the will of the might of the British empire, so it made sense to amend it to afford a well armed militia with a right to bear arms and to not have to quarter soldiers against your will. I feel that some of these amendments have the same ring that arguments against homosexuality using that Leviticus section of the Bible hold - it says so in the book, and the book must be right, therefore I'm right, regardless of whether it's still applicable or relevant today.

The shooting in Las Vegas sickened me, but not as much as the vapid "thoughts and prayers" from many of the country's leading politicians. Even worse are the politicians who, instead of taking to arms (so to speak) and thinking of ways to combat this problem before the next shooter comes along, have openly said that these shootings are a natural consequence of the freedoms afforded by the constitution, so we just have to accept them. Even worse is the politician who when asked about gun control said that it's on the shoulders of everyone to take extra precautions and to "be small" in the situations.

Fuck.

That.

(sorry for swearing, mum)

If I have to accept you have a constitutional right to "bear arms", and that there is nothing stopping those arms from being fully automatic, military grade machine guns, then you have to accept my constitutional right to congregate freely in public and to live a life free from harassment. Why should I have to take precautions about going to open air concerts or other crowded spaces because it is feasible and possible that someone, without any prior convictions or recorded history of mental illness, decides to take their arsenal and shoot their frustrations at me? Why should I have to teach my students the "lockdown" drill where we hide in our classroom in the dark with the door locked so a shooter can't kill us? Why should I have to hug my children extra hard tonight, praying that at some point in their lives they won't be one of the faces on TV for a few days, their lives ended because no one did anything in their power to stop it from happening again, and again, again?

The normal response of "people wouldn't shoot innocents if they knew everyone else had a gun" fails when your gunman barricades himself in a hotel 100 yards away and rains bullets down. But not once in 48 hours post Vegas have I heard anyone (apart from a few Democratic senators) say anything other than condemning the violence, praying for the victims and talking about mental health laws. I don't know if I get so worked up over gun violence and mass shootings because I come from a country where guns aren't an issue because no one has them, or because I'm a pacifist through and through and the idea that you are making it easier for people to cause massive damage to others just sickens me. But the lack of any kind of preventative response from the only people who could actively do something about just makes my blood boil.

The life of an alien is tough sometimes. You spend ages feeling like you've acclimatized, that you're part of the furniture, but then you realize that being part of that culture is more than knowing the Red Sox lineup by heart or learning a few pop culture references; it's understanding the decisions that get made and the different voices that make up the national conversation. Perhaps that's why American values are so hard to pin down - not because they don't exist, but that each American has their own interpretation of what they mean, and that is the hardest lesson for an alien to learn.

Hello from the other side

Jake starts Kindergarten tomorrow. Just that sentence feels strange to type; it shouldn't, given that him going to school was an inevitability in whatever country we lived in, but at the same time, it's a strange realization to think that this is the start of a 13 year journey of continuous schooling (and hopefully beyond, but we'll cross that bridge in 2030...), and a 16 year process when you add Sophie into the mix.

So it felt strange going to another person's classroom this evening for their "open house". Don't get me wrong, I must have been in over 200 classrooms in the course of my career so far, but each time it's been with a purpose related to my job - observe a child, provide support, teach, borrow a stapler etc. This was the first time I went in a non-professional role, as a parent. That also felt strange to write, as while I know that I have two kids and that "parent" is one of my roles in life, it's not one that I pick out immediately when talking about myself, but my drive to take Jake for open evening was definitely built on my desire to see where he will be during the day (my mum will laugh as she always likes to have mental pictures of where we all are!) and to see what his classroom looks like. It was strange to see his name on the door, and his cubby (also written as Jacob...I know I've done that as a teacher, so I hope that he's brave enough to make himself be called Jake!). It was also strange to see his surname written out, and it was the first time I felt a little guilty for giving him Forbes Wolfson (especially when his "rainbow" table buddies have last names like "Grant" and "Chick"). It's a lot to learn to write (it took him awhile to learn to introduce himself fully) but at the same time, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I sit here feeling strangely on the other side to his education experience. I know about everything that he's going to go through this year from the eyes of his teacher. I know that he will be one of 18 kids and that his teacher will do her best to see him as much as possible, to give him what he needs and to help him grow this year, because that's what I do with every kid who comes into my classroom. At the same time, I know that each child in my own classroom belongs to someone else, and they have the same desire for their individual child to succeed and develop as I have for Jake. So I can see both sides, which makes me feel less worried that I think I would be otherwise.

I'm also glad that we were able to give him the extra year that he's had of pre-K work. In the UK, he would be starting year 1, having already completed one year of formal schooling. While I know the reception class work is play based, I still feel pleased that he had a year to grow a little, gain some social skills, develop his emotional literacy as well as begin playing with letters and numbers. That extra year, combined with the work that we're doing at home on rule following, independence and kindness, means that I feel safe and happy sending him into Kindergarten tomorrow ready to start his school journey. Go Jake, a member of the class of 2030!

The 4,000 foot club

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!

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.

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.

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.