A Day at the Beach

Last day of Spring Break. Trixie and I went down to the beach, and we had a blast. Impera comes back on Sunday (did I mention she has spent Spring Break in Iowa? I'll have to check my recent posts).

We saw cute dogs staying mobile, ate a crazy snack, and found some lovely treasures.

You can see more of the photos in the flickr set.

When Wishes and Desires Clash

The girls were told (by a kid source) this weekend that school cannot run past June 23. Currently, the last day of school, after all the snow days we've had (including two last week, remember) is June 20. So the word on kid street is that they should all pray for as many more snow days as possible.

Here's the current forecast:



Here's the rub:

The eighth graders have a three-day Renaissance Festival, complete with feasting, fun activities, and off-campus learning experiences, scheduled for Wednesday through Friday. Wednesday being tomorrow.

To pray or not to pray? That, my friends, is the question.

I'll Trade a Recipe for Some Sympathy!

Yesterday was quite the day.

I know the one who really deserves sympathy is the Consort, who spent from 6 a.m. to 3 a.m. awake and in airports waiting for flights that were delayed, and delayed, then delayed some more; boarding planes when the weather cleared; deboarding those same planes when the word came in that their destination airport (Chicago) was closed due to weather; reboarding planes and waiting in line to get de-iced; knowing you won't make your 6:40 p.m. connection because the flight that was supposed to arrive at 2:30 p.m. was now landing at 7 p.m.; being pleasantly surprised that the 6:40 p.m. flight was also delayed, so you actually could make your flight; but with the downside that having that last flight delayed meant that instead of arriving in Manchester at 9:51 p.m., you actually arrived at 12:20 a.m.; and having a 1.5-hour ride back from the airport (which ended up taking over 2 hours because of the blinding snow that was falling).

So, yeah -- big hugs and sympathy to the Consort. Blah, blah, blah.

But, people, I was the one who stayed up until 3 a.m. alongside him. I drove both directions on snowy highways through the mountains of New England, in the middle of the night when typically quiet highways are completely abandoned, deciding to keep my cell phone in my pants pocket rather than on the empty passenger seat beside me because, if I crashed, I wanted to be able to reach the phone to call for help rather than have it tossed somewhere inaccessible as I was pinned in the upside-down crashed car (didn't happen, but you have to be prepared!), with the snow making visibility pretty bad (yes, the Consort had told me he could sleep in the airport and I could pick him up in the morning, but the snow and the roads didn't seem bad until I was about 30 minutes into a 90-minute drive, and by then I figured it was better to soldier on). (And really, the Consort said the conditions were fine. Until maybe the last 20 miles. And I sure wished he hadn't told me that while I was driving those last 20 miles).

So: poor, stressed, tired Imperatrix.

Oh, and the 1-2 inches of sleet they predicted for accumulation over night? We didn't get it. Instead we got 5 inches of snow. And the girls got the 45th snow day of the season. Sheesh! I told they they won't be dancing around in such joy when it is July 29th and they are still in school. (They ignored me. They prefer to live in the moment, those bohemians.)

One perk of snow days is that Impera then offers to make something for breakfast (she's not a big cereal fan). It probably would have been eggs ... except that I made eggs for supper last night (seeing as I first had to run them to fencing practice, then drive down to pick up the Consort, and we often take advantage of the Consort's absence to have breakfast for supper [since he isn't a big fan]).

She found a recipe for Maple-Sour Cream muffins. We had no sour cream, but I had just made up a batch of yogurt, so we made Maple-Yogurt muffins with pecans. These things are delicious! They taste like portable pancakes -YUM! They don't rise very high, but that's OK. Really. Go make up a batch. Eat them all.



Maple-Yogurt Muffins

1+3/4 cups flour (I don't know how to make stacked fractions in html)
2 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup maple syrup
1 cup yogurt
1 egg
1/2 cup chopped pecans

1) Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease muffin tins.

2) Combine the dry ingredients in a small bowl.

3) Beat the butter until smooth, then slowly add maple syrup, beating constantly. Beat in the yogurt and the egg.

4) Stir in the pecans.

5) Add the dry ingredients and stir until just blended.

6) Fill muffin tins 2/3 full. Bake until toothpick in center comes out clean, 15-18 minutes. Cool in tins 5 minutes, then remove.

Makes 16 standard muffins.

A Good Night

Obama wins Iowa.

And, we went to visit the puppies.

1. You start with one puppy..., 2. ...then some more want to snuggle..., 3. ...before you know it, you're covered in puppies!
(Created with fd's Flickr Toys.)

Entire set here.


(Let's ignore the fact that the Iowa Republicans chose Huckabee, shall we?)

I had one of those weekends where you want to do nothing (and therefore do nothing), but at the end of it you feel sort of let down.

Well, I didn't do absolutely nothing. I did lots of Web surfing. And I learned that there are some blogs that I shouldn't read. Because the negativity a blogger writes about can poison my own feelings, creating proverbial mountains out of molehills. I wondered why I was acting so volatile after certain familial phone calls, and I think that was a big part of it. (Let's be honest, though, it wasn't just the blog; I never enjoy forced conversation with Drama.)

We also made a dent in preparing for Christmas. Remember how we thought our home here would be teeny tiny? (I'm too lazy to get a link here right now.) So we brought no Christmas stuff. No ornaments, no tree stand, no lights. Currently, we are in the process of deciding whether we'll go with white lights (Impera's choice) or colored lights (Trixie's preference). I allowed that this year, we can get that crappy tinsel which I absolutely hate and we have never had. We also baked three cookie sheets worth of salt dough ornaments:

We are thin thin thin - Not too heavy for a tree!

We turned on some Christmas music. (In my ideal world, Christmas would be centered on the two weeks before Christmas. Period. Six weeks of it just drains me. But, the Consort loves Christmas [I'd argue I do, too, just not in such large doses], so he gets to turn on the Christmas music the day after Thanskgiving.)

We played cards. Spades (because my goal as a parent is to train my girls to be our pinochle partners; they know this and refuse to learn pinochle, insisting we continue playing Spades instead), and poker (we split up the coins in our Change Tin for betting; next time, I want the girls to use their own money -- nothing better than a little bit of family cutthroat betting to make things interesting...).

Oh, yeah. I also made a pie. Yes! The weekend after Thanksgiving! Realize, please, that the photo I shared on Thanksgiving was the extended family pie table. We only made two of those (upside down pear cake and cranberry tart), and they were both mostly eaten on Thanksgiving with the others. I still had one pie's worth of vodka dough. Wait, I never blogged about the failure which was vodka dough, did I? Here's the scoop: Adding vodka to pastry dough is the new Thing to do. Because vodka evaporates completely when baked (I ask, water doesn't?), it results in a fabulously flaky crust. Maybe. But the fact that vodka never freezes means the dough remains soft and sticky, so the beautiful crust edge you create just flumpfs in the oven, and you stand there, looking through the oven window, begging and pleading with Fate that the dough won't flumpf so much that the filling will ooze out and create a baked-on mess in the oven. Sure, the dough may be flaky (not significantly more so, in my opinion), but the ulcer you get during the baking process makes it anti-worthwhile.

One recipe made enough pastry for two pies, so I still had one disc of dough in the fridge. I had made a squash and sage risotto on Saturday, thus the knowledge that we had arborio rice in the pantry was fresh in my mind.

I took the vodka dough, some arborio rice, some milk, and some spices (plus eggs etc.), and made a Tarte Au Riz (Rice pudding pie, pretty much). This is a Belgian staple (actually, it's usually made with a yeasted tart dough, but what the hell), and I would really like to be able to make one like you get from the bakery in Belgium. I allow myself one try a year (so much creaminess, it's dangerous, otherwise). Mine are good, but not what I remember.

Tasty goodness, even without nutmeg.

Now, I need to find my motivation and finish a project. Anybody see it anywhere?

Yippee!!

Getting my tea this morning, I see this:


Really? Could it be? This is how the morning has progressed:

7:17 a.m.

9:10 a.m.

The Consort walked in to work this morning, although I offered to drive him in. He called when he got there and said there had been an accident on the road, so he had actually been faster walking than in a creeping car. Just yesterday morning, he mentioned he was really grateful we had picked the teeny tiny in-town house rather than the larger orchard house to rent this year. Because no matter the weather, we don't have to drive anywhere: he can walk to work, the girls walk to school, and there's a Co-op mini market two blocks away for milk and other necessities. (The large Co-op is walkable, too.)

Portrait of the Artist as an Unfocused Woman

“Wow! Our living room is so bare in our itty bitty sabbatical house. And the walls! They exude such … beigeness.”



“But hark! What do I notice to the side there? Could it be? Yes! It is! It is a framed loon triptych*!



*think* *think* *think*

“I bet I could make a wall hanging to fill that space! Yes, indeed. In fact, I found this cool method for making wavy seams. I could totally make something for that space. Totally. In fact, all I’d need to get started is twelve fabrics!”



“Okay! Let’s get started. Wait—it’s too difficult to wavy-cut 42-inch lengths of fabric. I know, I’ll have 20-inch strips, but I’ll stack them, so I’ll still get 40-inch height.”

*cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron*

“Grrrrrr. This is taking a looooong time:”



“Gosh, I’m only two thirds of the way done. Hmmm. I know! I’ll just do the last third with the strips going horizontally:”



*cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron*

“Bored now. What can I do? … Dang! I’ve forgotten to use one of the fabrics! Oooh! I think I have a solution. Tadaaa!”



(And a curse on anyone who even thinks that this looks like an upside-down flag.**)

“Hmmm. This doesn't look anything like how I envisoined it.

"Urgh. I need a beer. And maybe a multi-day break from this project."



*No, actually, it isn’t.
**And a pox on anyone who reminds me that originally, this was going to be two strips high. I’m just going to make a wider border than I planned, is all.

Rambling Catch-Up Post

Oh, my goodness, people! I stay offline for four days (two of which were weekend days), and I come back to 67 new posts! Some of you posted 6 or 7 times in that short span. How on earth am I going to catch up? And what on earth are you all doing posting multiple times over a single day?

[N.B.: This has turned out to be quite a long post. I’ve helpfully highlighted the important asides with italics, so if you’re in a hurry, just skip the blah-blah and read the meat of the story.]

First, about my previous post. Some of you wanted to know what blogs I was referencing. Well, I can tell you about them, but I won’t post links. These are just regular folks with blogs and it wouldn’t be fair to give them traffic just from people checking out how poor their life skills are (plus, I wouldn’t want them to come back at me and kick my pixelated* ass, you know?). One of them is the blog of a woman who just doesn’t seem to be able to look past herself in larger issues, and who has a bit of a problem making mountains into molehills with people she disagrees with. She also is a typical American in that while living in a foreign country, she practically alienated an entire university department by attempting to bully her advisor and other mentors into letting her do things the way *she* wanted to do them for her doctorate, rather than following the method of her adopted country. (Not everyone does things like Americans, you see?) The other blog I have a macabre fascination with is a woman who is clearly working through some issues (healthy), but is in a relationship where they seem to drink a lot (not healthy). She has become used to a child-free life these past two years, which is a fine choice to make, but really wants her kids (currently living with their dad) to come live with her. I don’t think it will work.

Why do I keep checking these blogs out? Probably, I’ve decided, because I am a snoop at heart who is working very hard to break the generational snooping behavior she was exposed to as a child. I’m not doing it to my children, so I’ve redirected my proclivities towards total strangers. I don’t know if this is a good solution, but the Internet makes it so easy!

Some of you thought I was talking about political blogs, but no. I just cannot imagine keeping sane if I were to regularly read conservative backwash. Ugh.

Aside #1: I’ve been trying to read more nonfiction lately, but my choices aren’t inspiring me. Mostly because I know it wouldn’t be healthy for me or my family if I were to read right-wing ulcer-inducing baloney, but the things I am reading aren’t keeping my interest. Examples: I finally read Nickel and Dimed this summer, and I am reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle right now. I think everyone should read both of these books, and I bet many people would learn a thing or two (in fact, I think Barbara Kingsolver’s book would be a great gift to give out to people [if I ever give in and become a preachy gift-giver]). Problem is, I already know more than the average person about these issues, so I’m not surprised or invigorated to make changes in my life (we already eat local, seasonal, and chemical-free, for example). I also picked up that Mayflower book from the library’s New Books shelf, and after 15 pages I—well, I was bored. Any suggestions?

The reason I was offline was that this was a busy holiday weekend for us. (After 7 years in the midwest, where we never got Columbus Day off [they’d give the kids a 3-day weekend the following week, so it was clear we weren’t celebrating the Beginning of the End of Native North American Independence], it was weird to be getting such an out-of-favor holiday. New Englanders are so … quaint.) We went camping in the White Mountains on Friday (The girls had off on Friday as well as Monday). We learned that Dramamine will not help Impera all that much during a long windy-road drive, and will make her extremely tired for the rest of the day; so any hike we have planned will be difficult for her, especially a super steep hike the likes of which we had never attempted before. But, being a trooper, she will complete the hike (although she’ll make it clear that “views” are not worth doing a hike for). The hike on Saturday was much less steep, Impera wasn’t drugged out, and the Consort and Trixie were able to swim in the pond at the end of the hike. We also enjoyed the smoothed out modernistic rocks of Franconia Falls (I’ll get the pictures up on flickr later this afternoon).

Aside #2: One unpleasant thing about camping is the midnight trek to the lavatory (in this case, a pit toilet in the National Park no-frills campground [no showers, water only at a communal well, and no electricity] where we stayed). I know some of you jumbo-sized bladder people have yet to need a midnight visit, but I’ve been partaking in that particular ritual for years now (the Consort, too, which is why I think it’s you other people who are bizarre, not me). I learned on this trip that, if you stop drinking at 4 pm, you can make it through the night without getting out of your sleeping bag. I made note of this and will definitely be taking advantage of this information at future campouts. What will keep me awake, however, is the Consort mentioning just as we are getting into our sleeping bags that the gorp left over from the day’s hike is still in his small pack, WHICH IS WITH US IN THE TENT. This did not bode well, considering that there are signs everywhere (including RIGHT ON THE CAMPSITE TABLE) that all food should be returned to campers’ cars at night, because of the bears. (The Consort’s response to me that, “The bears here in New England are baby bears,” just didn’t seem to soothe me as much as he thought it would.)

On Sunday, we spent the day with some friends from Boston. We went apple picking, made applesauce and apple crisp, played a great game called Robo-Rally, and had a yummy supper of tomato pesto pasta (with garlic bread).

Yesterday (the notorious Columbus Day), we had planned to do work, veg out, and take it easy, but it was raining in the morning, so we contacted our friends and told them that if they didn’t feel like doing the Fall Foliage thing in the rain, they could come spend some time with us, and there could maybe even be a group adventure completed using our wifi router (they both play World of Warcraft, too). And that’s what the Consort, the girls, and our friends did. For four and a half hours. I made chocolate chip muffins, and knit. Everybody was happy. And we even had time to do the necessary work and homework in the afternoon before supper.

Aside #3: We realized soon after we got to New Hampshire that we had forgotten to pack our winter hats, mittens, and scarves. How stupid was that? So I’m planning to make at least hats for everyone. We’ll see if I get them done in time. The girls want to go camping again this coming weekend (mostly because we said they were old enough to start the fire in the morning if the Consort and I aren’t up yet [we are happy to report that the pyromania that both the Consort and I have was passed down in spades to the girls. You should have seen them scouring the campground for bits of wood and leaves they could burn in the fire]), and it was getting to the point that sleeping with a hat on might be a good idea. Oh, the joys of autumn camping!

Now that I’ve caught up here, I will spend too much time visiting all my regular online haunts, trying to catch up with all of you. Because I take my blogging responsibilities seriously.


*Or should that be pixilated? I leave you** to decide.

**But who has an impish ass to kick, I ask you? Certainly not me.

Some Things

Some things I miss:
A microwave
My kitchen scale
My washer and dryer
The big garden
A second toilet
A second towel bar
Enough storage furniture (shelves, cabinets, etc.)

Some things I don’t miss:
Weekend party-people on the street at 2 a.m.
Neverending upkeep of big garden

Some things I get:
Free (yes, free!) public transportation between/within 4+ towns in this area

Some things I don’t get:
Trash pickup not provided by town (recycling, however, is provided by town. [???????])

Bruises

The second move of the summer is over. Boxes were packed, lugged down the stairs, lifted into my BIL's 4x4 truck, driven to the itty bitty house, taken off the truck, lugged into the itty bitty house, unpacked, broken down, and are now awaiting the recyling truck to take them away.

The house is tiny, but larger than the apartment we lived in during the summer.

After organizing the kitchen, then taking everything out of the cabinets and starting over (three times), I finally got everything to fit. In a manner of speaking.

Now that things are un-topsy-turvying, I hope to follow through on some promises I made back in July: I owe several of you mix CDs -- I haven't forgotten, they should be coming soon!

Oh, did I mention I took on another client? They came to me, I didn't search them out. This will be very good, seeing as living the adventurous life on 70% pay does have its drawbacks (we jumped in with our eyes open, but still).

And, a last tidbit: It's amazing how many bruises one can get in 10 hours of bending, lifting, and carrying boxes, furniture, and large appliances. And the color variation: impressive!

Online Relationships, Anthropomorphic Oceans

Boston was lots of fun. We were only there for one day (because there's so much we want to do in this year in New England that we can't pace ourselves!), but I think it was a good start. As I've complained aboutmentioned before, the Consort and the girls are really into World of Warcraft. Two people the three of them adventure with are a married couple living in the Boston area. The Consort had suggested to them that we should get together at some point.

First, he suggested we get together to do a hike at Mt. Monadnock (the 2nd most climbed mountain IN THE WORLD! [the implication here is that this isn't some secluded spot ideal for nefarious hijackings]). That was met with silence and trepidation. Because, you know, we could be one of those (not often spoken about but surely real) serial-killing families. (They didn't come out and say this, but I can read between the lines as well as the next person.) They countered with a visit to Boston (where they could escape from us by running into the crowds on the street, you see). So we agreed.

It was a great decision. They have a friend who is a Boston tour guide, and she offered to give us a private tour of the city's Revolutionary War sites. Even the Consort and I learned something on this tour, believe it or not. Saturday was quite a success, indeed. All 6 of us went to Harvard Square in the late afternoon, and we took our (now pretty sure we aren't murderers) friends to dinner at an Indian Restaurant. They they took us to a fancy desserterie to finish the day. I think they trust us now. Which is good, because they are fun folks to hang out with.

Sunday morning we visited local farms with the Consort's younger sister and her family, who live in southern NH (did I mention we were staying with them over the weekend?). In the afternoon, we four drove 30 minutes to the NH coastline and spent the afternoon at the beach. New England water being what it is ( = melted ice cube cold), only Trixie went in. That was fine. We walked along the water line, then sat on beach towels, enjoying the sand and sun. At one point, the Consort took a wee nap. I had the camera in my pocket, but moved it onto the blanket so that if I had to jump in the water at a moment's notice (Trixie was playing further and further out in the surf, and I didn't want to miss a chance to save her because I was worried about ruining my digital camera), I could. Twenty minutes later, as we were preparing to take a walk to the boardwalk for a snack of caramel corn or fried dough (don't ask), a rogue wave slammed into us, got our shoes and towels wet, and killed my camera (it's ours, really, but I'm the only one who uses it). AAAAAAARRRRRRGHGHGHGH!

This ocean really doesn't like our cameras. This very same ocean killed our previous digicam 4 years ago. Rickin frickin sea.

We didn't let it get us down, and still had a good time at the beach. After a quick shower at the younger SIL's house, the Consort and I left the girls there (they're coming back on Tuesday) and we drove back to the Upper Valley.

But not before we had supper at a little vegan restaurant we had noticed on the way to the little cousins' house: Susty's Cafe, serving Radical Vegal Fare. Was it tasty? Yes! Was it cool? Absolutely! They even have a small solar panel to power the lights that shine on their sign. (I would have taken a picture, but, that damn ocean, don't you know).

KathyF (and anybody else, you don't have to be vegan to appreciate the food there, you know): If you happen to be near Northwood outside of Concord, NH, check out Susty's. It's definitely worth it.

So, this weekends lessons were: it's OK to get together with strangers you meet on the internet, Boston is a cool city with tasty food, little cousins are just as cute as older versions, hip vegan restaurants can make it in places other than ultra-urban chic spots, and nobody needs pictures of family frolicking in the ocean. It's just not worth it.

In the Middle of a Busy Busy 6 Days

My sister and her family just left, and we had a wonderful visit with them. If you want to see a tiny bit of what we were up to, visit my photo diary.*

Tomorrow morning we're leaving very early to participate in two days of the March to ReEnergize New Hampshire (there's a ReEnergize Iowa march happening, too). We'll return Sunday night, tuckered out, I'm sure.


*I feel a little guilty passing off my photo diary to fill the blog here. Not too guilty, however, to also point out that I whipped up a couple of photo sets about the visit. (Check the sidebar at the left for the link.)

The Stuff A Bureaucrat’s Dreams Are Made Of

1. The Consort’s co-author, who teaches at Bouche de Dard College (not its real name, you know what university is in Hanover), was able to get him an (unpaid) Visiting Researcher appointment. That way, he gets an office, has library privileges, and is eligible for a parking pass. When he went to get an ID for the gym, they said he “wasn’t on their list.” They called around, and checked some more, then said, “Oh, you’re a visiting researcher – VRs aren’t eligible to use the sports facilities.”

2. The rental agreement for the housing we were assigned begins on September 1. School for the girls begins on August 29. So for the first three days of the school year, we will drive them from the apartment we are staying in (another town, another district) to their school. Over that weekend, we’ll be moving in to our permanent housing for the rest of the 2007-2008 school year. I was told today that I have to send a copy of our rental agreement to the school district’s supervisor, so they can issue a waiver for the girls to attend their school (since we will be out of district when they begin school). Did I mention, this will be the case for THREE DAYS??

Look, I’m all for following the rules, but really, I think the risk inherent is giving a visiting researcher library privileges (where he can borrow and potentially lose hundred-dollar texts) is much higher than any risk of allowing him and his spouse to use the gym. Are they afraid of the cooties we’d leave on the equipment?

And really, do they think it would make more sense for the girls to attend the local school for three days, and then transfer into the town school district after the weekend? Really?

People always joke that midwesterners are staid, have no sense of humor, and are lacking in creativity. I beg to differ.

Getting Graphic

Check out my sidebar. It's getting so crowded, soon you won't be able to find anything worthwhile there!

I put up one of those flickr badges that cycles through my recent uploads [oooh ... aaaah].

I also added a new section called "1,000 Words" (as in: A Picture is Worth...). I plan to create photo sets for each of our hikes/explores [neato!...]. I started by compiling the two from this weekend.

I also thought I'd try to document this upcoming sabbatical year by keeping a photo diary [cooooool!!!!]. You're supposed to post one picture for every day of the year. Being a family where not only the kids but the adults count time via the academic year, I've started this technically about seven months late. (I also don't stay-stitch pattern pieces before sewing them together, OR have ever done a full 4-inch knitting swatch, OR back up my computer on a regular basis, OR floss every day. I do what I can, when I can.)

If I keep this up, you are welcome to browse over there whenever you like. And you'll get MORE Imperatrix for the price of one!

Catching Up

Everyone deserves a lost week here and there, don't you agree? Especially a week where 1) the person whose floor at home is perpetually covered with Barbies, Legos, American Girl doll paraphernalia, and books has a breakdown because the apartment, in the midst of the unpacking, is "too messy" for her; 2) every time you notice your teen eating, she is eating a slice of beer bread (hmmmmmm); 3) you had to spend the first few hours in the temporary apartment clearing out the fridge of month-old food and removing the mold growing in there, cleaning 7 years of food spillage from the cabinets, and finding space for four people's things (three people's, really: the Consort took care of his own stuff) in a small space; and 4) adolescent angst decides this would be a great time to take up residence with the family.

How could I not flip out? And on Friday, I did. (Note to self: A good maternal explosion does wonders for clearing out attitude. Don't look too closely and you won't notice the look of fear and trepidation which replaces the frowny faces. [Fear looks very much like contentment, at a glance.])

We went for an Explore of the creek down the street:

and talked about making biscuits when we got back. Oops. No shortening. So we made peanut butter muffins instead, which we had for lunch:


Then we walked up to Grandma's house, spent time playing with puppies (I did mention Grandma is a dog breeder, right?), then drove in to Hanover (where we'll be living come September) to peek through the windows at the (teeny tiny) house we'll be living in (but the girls were happy to see it, and have already chosen which room they will want; PLUS! they noticed a space we could [possibly] fit a portable dishwasher). We swung by the school they will be attending and happened upon a guidance counselor who gave us a quick tour of the school, and now the girls are very excited about school, too. (That's all it was: stress at the Not Knowing what the house and the school would be like.)

Yesterday we broke in our new hiking boots and climbed Mount Cardigan. It was a gorgeous day (as all days are here: it goes up to about 85 degrees duringh the day, but at night the temp drops down to the 50s -- nice sleeping weather). The girls had lots of fun, and the views at the top were fabulous. You can see a few shots (we're not great at remembering to take pictures all the time) at the flickr photo set, if you like.

Things are settling in. Halleluiah!