Housebound

Well, it looks like my poor parents are trapped in my cold, drafty but lovely home yet another day....

As this is the view up the Dingle...

And down the Dingle....

And more snow coming down!!!

No plows on our road...

Gorgeous, so long as you don't need to be anywhere. The Hubs walked to work this morning. I was hoping it would clear up enough for me to collect him tonight, but now I'm not so sure.

In terms of not going anywhere, I'm also feeling terribly guilty that on my parents' first trip to the UK they have seen more of my family room than anything else in England and Wales, have spent more time trying to build a fire than enjoying one.

And then, there is my darling, delightfully cooped up children, bashing at one another's heads. Its entertaining until blood flows. Boo went out to shovel, but the wind had picked up, so he wimped out. (And he was born in Chicago. What the heck?) Add explosive diarrhea to the mix, and its a recipe for disaster.

Am I the one with the "Let it Snow, Let it Snow" sign in the kitchen?

Sheesh.

But....hmm...bet it would make EXCELLENT kindling.

Riding the Santa Train

I've been busy with all our end-of-term activities and pre-Christmas activities, and probably should be writing profound holiday-related posts of spirit and joy and all that other stuff.

Instead, I'm going to post gratuitous photos (which should have been edited down, but neener, neener, this is my blog, get your own if you don't like it or go watch "Glee" or something.) This was such a fun family day, I just wanted to share it all. And, it saves me from putting everything up on Facebook, too.

With Christmas quickly approaching, we decided to treat the kids for a ride on the "Santa Train" on the Welshpool-Llanfair Railway. An afternoon ride across the gorgeous countryside under a beautiful blue sky to meet Father Christmas' train, and end it with a snack of mulled wine and mince pies - what could be more exciting??

(Apparently, a bit too exciting, as halfway there, after snorting down a full travel cup full of applejuice and a cup of Cheerios, well shaken up in her tummy by the twisting, winding roads we were travelling - Pea hurled all over herself. Repeatedly. Which isn't a good thing on a narrow, winding road, where there is no place to pull over.)

After a quick stop, a clean up and change of clothes, and a rinse of the winter coat in the restroom, a perkier Pea was ready for her ride on the Santa Special:

And look, here is a rare picture of Momma! An actual picture! Not taken by the camera held out in front of myself! And my hair isn't totally mussed!

After a bit of a ride through the countryside (which we were almost too excited to enjoy), we were met by Santa's very own train, travelling from Welshpool.

Here is the big guy himself, ready with gifts for the boys and girls on the train...

One of my favorite pictures - the anticipation of a happy 3 year old.

As Santa (or Father Christmas, as he is more commonly referred to here) had 4 passenger cars to visit, he had some helpers hop on the other cars to entertain us and ease the anticipation. Here, a very cheeky Rudolph the Red-Nosed reindeer chats up the kids.

He was accompanied by what we can only assume was a very large elf....Boo and Pea were pretty taken with him, too.

At long last...Father Christmas himself! He rode with us for a while (there was only one other family in our car, so everyone had lots of time to tell Santa that they had indeed be good, and to get a bag with some really lovely gifts in it...)

Santa even had time to take a picture with Mommy! (Mommy has been a good girl, too. Really. Never mind what you've heard.)

The kids didn't waste any time playing with their gifts, including reading (and re-reading) the book Santa gave to Maddie.

Waving goodbye to Santa, his reindeer, elves and puppeteers:

On the return to the Llanfair station, Pea played with the other kids in our passenger car while Boo rode on the platform outside. Despite the cold, it was his favorite place to be. It was a special moment for my train-mad boy!

The End.

In which I discuss walking through the sheep field coming from town

I may have mentioned previously that one way to get to town is to walk up the Dingle, down a footpath, over a bridge, and through two fields. We end up at the Car Park in town (and the primary school). On nice (i.e., not rainy) days, this would be a good way to get to school.

If my 3yo weren't lazy, that is. Its a loooong way to give a girl a piggyback ride, let me tell you.

Today, after visiting the playing field, we went for a walk into town. Its a short walk if we go down the Dingle to the main road, vs through the fields (as we have to go up the road a ways to get to the footbridge to cross the stream that runs behind us.) Pea was skipping and singing to herself. I was excited, as she wasn't whining about being tired, or wanting to be carried. (She may be small, but she is sturdy, and its tiring to carry her.)

Alas, once we got to the car park (her choice of destinations, since I didn't bring any money with which to buy her a juice at the Spar mini-mart) she showed her true colors and melted down. She couldn't decide whether to walk down the stairs, or down the ramp behind the shops at the top of the car park.

Yes, over something as simple as this. If all my decisions were this complex. But at three, and tired, that is all it takes.

Anywhoo....after tiring of the yelling, I picked her up and Boo and I marched off to the field, with her screaming "Nooooo. I want to go back to da cawr pawrk. I want to go UPPP the WAMP."

Sheep scatter as we pass. I didn't blame them a bit.

As we walk thru the field, this sheep was following us. He was either saying "Would you get that girl to stop crying" or, alternately, "watch out for the poop".


Most of the sheep were gathering by the edge of the field where the gate to go into the next field is. (Yes, we do actually walk through two fields.) By this point, Pea had stopped crying as she was fascinated by the sheep - I took the opportunity to move her to piggy-back. They stopped running away, as she wasn't screaming. (Her crying does have that same effect on me, too - I want to run away, as far and as fast as I can....)



Boo in the field. He loves this walk. (Can't you tell?)

I think his favorite part are the gates "so the sheep can't get away", he says.

After the sheep field, we walk through this field. Sometimes we find horses in it. Today it was empty.

Leaving the field, we walk down a footpath to the bridge.

We cross a bridge over the stream - the kids always stop to look at the "waterfall" underneath.

Then we walk up the footpath to get back to the Dingle.

It really is gorgeous, a bit surreal and peaceful.

However, there is one small downside to the experience.

Sheep poop.

Yes, I said poop. Bears poop in the woods, sheep poop in the fields. But you know, it IS a big field. You would think they would have the consideration to do there business anywhere other than the beaten down grass that the people walk on.*

But then again, they are sheep; they aren't all that bright. Unless, of course, they do it on purpose. Yeah, I can see a gang of renegade sheep, plotting to poop ON the path, just to watch us hopscotch around their dropping and swear when we step on some. (Note to Boo: Crocs are not the best for stepping in squishy doo.)

From in front of me, I heard "Oh, man...." and then "Mom, can I walk behind you?". So I had to march along, dodging droppings (with Pea riding piggy back) and yelling back "POOP!!!" as a warning.

It was a golden moment in parenting, people.

So if you come to visit, pack walking shoes, watch where you walk, and oh, yeah -

leave your shoes at the door.

*I write this only in jest; heck, if I can't get my 3-1/2 yr old to poo in the potty, I can't ask anything of sheep.

8 things I'm looking forward to in Wales

To offset any perceived negativity found in the last post (it really was not intended as a criticism of our new home country - its just a reflection here) I thought I would start out with the top 8 things I'm looking forward to once we get to Wales:

1. The kids new school. Boo would only have been able to go to 1/2 day Kindergarden here in the States. In Hay, Boo will be able to go full day. He will also get swimming instruction once a week, from mid-spring until sometime in October. Pea would have been in a 3 day program here - in Hay, she will go every day for a few hours, longer if we choose. It will provide an opportunity for the kids to make friends more quickly. For Boo, eating lunch every day at school will provide a great introduction to the local cuisine - and I'm guessing that he'll be much more open to the foods if his friends are eating them, as opposed to if I'm trying to introduce the foods to him. Likewise, Pea is refusing to potty train; her preschool teacher said "No worries, we'll take care of it - and peer pressure is a wonderful thing!" (We'll just thoughtfully overlook all the free time I will gain!)

2. My new "new" gym. Keeping up on the internet I've learned that "Gym and Tonic" will have a new home in Hay - bright, bigger, and home to more fitness classes. I'm looking forward to the new facility as well as an opportunity to meet some people on my own!

3. The walk to school . According to Hubs, its simply magical. I'm hoping we actually get to walk it - Little Miss Lazybones is, well, lazy, and I'm not planning on carrying her to school.

4. Driving a small car. Lets face it, while minivans are great, they are big and awkward. I like sitting high here in the land of the SUV, but since small cars are the norm there, I can get back into something compact and fun to drive. (Like my old Jetta - boy, I miss that car...)

5. Travel. We've had great fun looking at maps and at places to go on the internet. I have a cousin in Spain (whom I haven't seen in years!) and the Hubs has a cousin somewhere in England, who I think is only an hour away. There will be lots of opportunity to sightsee and travel.

6. Simplicity. No Target? Well, it will be a break on my wallet. Small fridge/freezer? No overbuying and seeing food go bad.

7. Less sugar/more organic. The bread that we ate (and ate and ate) while there was amazing. Reading labels, there isn't much (if any) high fructose corn syrup in the food products. There is a lot more offerings in organics, which is great. While the diet coke and Snickers bar I had definitely didn't taste the same, in hindsight they seemed less sweet, with more actual flavor coming through.

8. More family time. The Hubs will definitely be travelling less in his new role - he also shaved his commute from one hour to about 10 minutes. While I will now have to cook dinner every night, we will also now be able to actually eat together every night. Fantastic.

10 Famous People of Wales, (or, Moving to Wales)

Yes, we are moving to Wales. (Yes, Wales the country, people.)

I'm surprised by the number of times I've had someone comment "I don't think I've ever heard of anyone moving to Wales. England, maybe. Scottland. Not Wales. Huh." This comment is typically followed by something along the lines of "I don't even know of anyone from Wales".

I'm actually embarrassed by the number of people who aren't actually sure where Wales is, and force me to explain. (Brings a whole new meaning to the term "Fail Whale".)

So, dear readers, so that you know that I am not disappearing into a land of sheep and...erm...something else (adjusting my teaching hat and stepping upon my soapbox) I present a brief (and not inclusive) list (in no particular order - its my blog, after all) of "10 Famous People from Wales*":
*I realize the list is not complete; I'm highlighting the Welsh most familiar to we Americans

1. Sir Anthony Hopkins
2. Richard Burton
3. Laura Ashley
4. Timothy Dalton (had no ideal he was Welsh!)
5. Catherine Zeta Jones
6. Tom Jones (pauses to throw underwear)
7. Dylan Thomas (see, I always thought he was Irish - go figure!)
8. Roald Dahl (author of Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, Matilda, James & the Giant Peach, to name a few)
9. Charlotte Church
10. Rhys Ifans, actor (he played the odd Welsh roomate to Hugh Grant in Notting Hill - oddly, he was the first Welshman to come to mind after Prince Charles) which leads me to add a #11:
11. Charles, Prince of Wales

Noticeably absent from the list, much to Boo's dismay, is Fireman Sam:

Sam is quite disappointed that I won't be meeting Fireman Sam when we travel to Hay next week for our "vacation", but I promised him I'd try to find a brigadier and take his picture.

For those of you still confused as to where we are moving, here is a map:

The little green bit on the map of the UK is Wales. It is a bit disconcerting that it isn't named, but nevertheless, approximately 3 million people live there, so just take my word for it. I tweet with a number of lovely people every day, so my hopes are lightened as they are all delightful and funny. I do love that dry British sense of humor.

We have a lot of adjusting to do; I firmly believe that the British pronounciations sound absolutely ridiculous when spoken with an American accent, (and I think to-MAH-to sounds downright pompous from an American) but I will try my best to use the UK english words so that I don't embarrass myself too much.

To answer a few more questions:

• Yes, I am excited. Currently I am overwhelmed, but once the movers come and nearly all of my worldly possessions, everything is out of my hands, and I can enjoy the summer as best as one can when one is ripping one's overthinking 5 year old firstborn away from everyone and everything he knows and loves.
• My, that sounded more grim than intended. Yes, we are excited.
• No, we have not yet told the kids, and yes, we are dreading that moment. I think I shall pass this right upon to my dear husband, as he is the reason we are moving. (Bwah ha ha ha ha ha)
• No, we are not selling our house. I love this house. I want to live in this house again when we come back. (And hopefully, by then, I'll get the kitchen remodel that I so dearly want. Hint, hint, Pete, I know you are reading this.)
• No, we are not buying a house there. A) It is my understanding that one cannot buy a house there on a visa; and B) I have no desire to hold two mortgages. Ever. Again.
• No, I will not come back with a Welsh accent. I WILL likely come back talking about the weather more than you ever wanted, with no regard to your personal space, and saying things like "ring you up" (instead of "call you") and "takeaway" (instead of "take-out"). I doubt, however, that I will ever say "Al-lu-MIN-ium". There is no second "i" in aluminum. Never will be, in my dictionary.
• Yes, Pea will set them back on her feet with her Princess Dresses and impish grin.

Overall, I do believe it will be a wonderful experience for us as a family. Right now, I'm simply overwhelmed by how much there is to do, and how little time in which to do it.

So please, be kind if I get a tad behind on my blogging. Needless to say, I'm sure I'll have plenty of material AFTER we move, as I learn to deal with the washing machine, oven, mixer taps, and driving on the "wrong" side of the road. (Heaven help us all.)

Counting my blessings

In the words of Dean Martin "Baby, its cold outside".

Cold, a bit snowy, but beautiful. Its a blessing to live in such a wonderously pretty place.