The Plunge Down Under

Farewell 2010

Christmas has come and gone, and I am gearing up for using my new camera in the coming year.  It received quite a workout in fact, yesterday, on our trip down the Great Ocean Road as I fully discovered the addicting pleasure of the click-click-click of an SLR.  But before I move on, I'd like to post a few more pictures of our time with my family over the holidays.

We have been told that the temperature today will reach 40 degrees Celsius, 104 degrees F.  Considering that we wore jackets yesterday on the beach, and that at the time of writing this (7am) it is 57 degrees F, we find the forecast hard to believe. We have been repeatedly assured, however, that such swings in temperature are not only possible, but common.  Fortunately we have an invitation to spend New Year's Eve poolside.

After much pleading and elaborate justifications on the part of our older two, Ross and I allowed our children to open presents from the Wilkin side of the family on Christmas Eve.

Christmas morning involved an almost unbearable wait as we insisted that Ross be allowed to sleep until 9am.  Somehow the children survived, although they did not appreciate the lesson in delayed gratification.  After the long-anticipated flurry of emptying the stockings, we settled down for our traditional family brunch.

Four Generations:

Oldest and youngest of the group:

We celebrated my niece's fourth birthday on the 26th of December.

I am back at 9pm on New Year's Eve to report that the wind did kick up from the north well before noon, causing a forty degree jump within three hours or so.  The pool proved a wonderful place to spend the afternoon, with the added bonus that we have some tired kids on our hands.  We are well on the road to adjusting to the new time, but I suspect all will be asleep well before midnight.  In any case, we wish you all a very Happy New Year.

 

 

Home Sweet Home

Ten minutes from departure time, and I am trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.  There have been a few fairly minor skirmishes among the cousins, but overall they have had a glorious time together.  My mom won't admit to it of course, but I think she must be ready for a break from her post of head chef for up to eighteen people per meal, three meals per day.  At one point we briefly considered going out to a restaurant, but with nine children ages twelve and under, we quickly came to our senses and ordered pizza.

Here is Sophie saying goodbye to the cousin who frequently confesses that he loves her dearly, all of the time, but especially when she is playing with him.  He didn't want to say good-bye, but my brother encouraged him to put on a happy face until we were out the door, and he came through admirably.

Eleven suitcases waiting to be loaded into two vehicles:

I have no pictures of the Cleveland airport due to the confusion we experienced from the time we arrived in what we assumed would be plenty of time to the moment of boarding with very few minutes to spare.  The havoc wreaked by the blizzard on the eastern coast contributed to the chaos, and we witnessed plenty of disconsolate faces from flights that had taken off intending to land in Newark or other eastern cities but found themselves unexpectedly, and unhappily, in Cleveland.  We counted our blessings that we were heading west, and with the exception of one exceptionally rude fellow passenger, our flight to Los Angeles was uneventful. Cameron had become increasingly unwell during the flight, but thankfully was able to stagger off the plane toward a rubbish bin before the airsickness (or stomach flu?) overcame him.

The Los Angeles airport seems especially designed to rob travelers of whatever enthusiasm they retain when arriving, and while it was less frustrating for us than our previous two layovers there, the hours from 9:30pm to midnight EST passed very slowly indeed. The children have become used to the idea that they will have no idea what time it is, so when Cameron inquired the time as we arrived, and we responded 9:30, he wondered if it was in the morning or the evening.  We had a laugh over that (we had left Cleveland around 5pm). The older three children had been quite confident in their plans to remain awake enough to eat the dinner served after our 1am departure from L.A., but only Katie succeeded, in spite of the temporary excitement generated when they realized we would be sitting in the upper level of a 747.  James fell asleep upon boarding, and Cameron minutes after take-off with Sophie close behind him.  We wouldn't have allowed Cameron to eat in any case.

The highlight of our trip was being invited into the cockpit just before the flight from Sydney to Melbourne (about 24 hours after we left Cleveland).  We were surprised due to the extra precautions now taken in flight---every time the cockpit door is opened, for example, the surrounding area is blocked off and guarded by an attendant.  After our photo session, the pilot walked through the plane looking for other children who might like the same experience, and the entire flight crew proved to be exceptionally friendly, more than making up for our Cleveland to Los Angeles experience.

In spite of our fears to the contrary, James remained excited at the prospect of returning to Australia.  He was popular with the flight attendants who kept his juice and water glasses full, somewhat to Ross's dismay.  During one of their frequent trips to the loo, James asked his daddy "Why do they make us drink so much?!"

Melbourne greeted us with clear skies and near perfect temperatures.  We have been reveling in the sunshine and warmth, and are not at all sorry to put away our winter things for a while.  In fact that may be the only bright spot of unpacking, the one thing I detest more than packing.  Mercifully, the blog is providing a refuge from the ten suitcases still awaiting me, and I am sure that when I finish, bed will be the next item on the list. (The eleventh suitcase is empty only because I transferred the remainder of its contents to the suitcase sitting nearby.)

The concept of home has been on our minds lately.  One of the children, having heard me refer to multiple places as "home" in the preceding weeks, wondered exactly which one I meant.  Was it our house in Seven Fields, my parents' house in Ohio, or our house in Melbourne?  I think I once even referred to our hotel room in Singapore as home.  I pondered for some time, and replied that home is the place where we are together as a family.  That seemed to satisfy her, for which I was grateful.

Sledding With the Cousins

What does one do when responsible for seven children from ages twelve to newborn for several hours on a cold winter's day?  Keep them well fed and very, very busy--preferably outdoors--was the answer that my grandmother and I came up with today.  While she cleaned up from the not inconsiderable mess generated by feeding everyone lunch, I sorted out all of the paraphanelia necessary for outfitting four of the younger ones for snow play. 

Here are the sledders, starting with my handsome nephew, followed by my beautiful niece. 

The girls were quite happy to pose for the camera, but the boys had to be coaxed.  A reminder that their respective dads would appreciate the pictures did the trick.

 

Watching James and his cousin work and play togethether to accomplish the fun of sledding proved to be quite entertaining.  He didn't seem capable of getting back up the hill without her encouragement and help.

Laughing on the way down:

Starting back up:

Come on James, keep walking!

Actually, I'm not sure this is worth all the effort required.

Back at the top, the crinkly eyes and goofy smiles are what you get when you request four-year-olds to smile for the camera.  I really should know better by now (but they are cute).

Earlier in the day, we gave Cameron the task of entertaining the younger ones.  He appointed himself leader of an expedition that traveled through the jungle and up over mountain tops.

He was rewarded later with the opportunity to explore the ravine all by himself.  The next oldest two were quite jealous, and I had to watch them like a hawk to make sure they didn't follow him down.  They may possibly have made it to the bottom without injury, but I am amost certain they wouldn't have been able to make their way back to the top.

Meanwhile, indoors, 102 gingersnap cookies were stirred together, shaped, dipped in sugar, baked, and later dipped in white chocolate under the supervision of my mother. Katie had plans of her own for the leftover chocolate (consuming it by herself in the closet I think), but it was used to coat pretzels.

The baby performed beautifully for us, waking only to enjoy her Oma for a few minutes before drinking her bottle.

I am loving my new camera, which may explain why I am so behind getting ready for Christmas this year. The weather has been less than ideal for outdoor photography the past few days, so we have set the dial to portrait mode and contented ourselves with indoor shots.  Here are some of my favorites, including several taken by Katie.  She is far more successful at getting smiles from James and her cousins than I am.

This next one I include especially for the enjoyment of my Aunt Janet.

 

Crashing, Recovering and Catching Up

 

Just over three days have passed since we crashed at my parents' doorstep in Ohio after our whirlwind week in Pittsburgh.  The final day of saying more good-byes, packing, organizing, and cramming the Pilot with heavy suitcases nearly did us all in, and it was with a great sense of relief that I pulled into the driveway of a home where I knew we would be well cared for.  I don't recall a time when I have appreciated my mother's cooking more, unless perhaps it was after we brought Katie home from the hospital.  Indeed I am not sure I was capable of doing much more than consuming what was put in front of me for the first twenty-four hours after we arrived back in Ohio.  I do know that my grandmother's rolls and desserts have never tasted better, and have been well worth the extra time required on the treadmill.

Perhaps unsurprisingly given all the suitcases we have and the places we have been, I managed to leave my most important bag (containing my computer, camera, and all the accompanying accessories) behind when we drove over to Pittsburgh.  Now that I have them back, I thought I would catch up on where I left off in early December. 

The day before we left Melbourne, Katie graduated from Year 6 at Presbyterian Ladies College in an impressive ceremony which all of us were able to attend (Ross had his driver bring him there directly from the airport after arriving early from his trip to Amsterdam).  Later that evening we celebrated her twelfth birthday with a family trip to Trampoline.  This celebration had to wait until after Cameron played in his last cricket game of 2010, the first game to which I successfully managed to to bring food for all of us to eat and to share rather than sheepishly sponging off everyone else.  My principal food offering (meat and chicken pies) were not homemade, but I was secretly pleased to be asked by one of the foodie moms for explicit instructions as to how I prepared the cold steamed asparagus spears I served with onion dip. 

Katie singing with some of her classmates:

I have no pictures of our trip to Trampoline or the cricket game (forgot the camera), but Ross did snap one with his phone of the sign after we finished our ice cream.  It has lots of abbreviations for you to enjoy:

What to buy for a twelve-year-old?  I had no idea, but thankfully Katie happened to mention that she wanted a (field) hockey stick:

Approximately forty-eight hours after sweltering through the graduation the children were all outdoors shoveling snow.  James lasted about five minutes and has not asked to go back out in the cold again.  He did realize at one point last week that if he were in Australia he could be outdoors riding his bike.  I am hoping that this knowledge will help him to return happily when the time comes.

Another birthday celebration, this time in Ohio:

We all had a turn holding the youngest member of the family, my five-week-old niece.

 

In other news I am excited to report that I have used the downtime of the past few days to figure out how to use my new digital SLR camera.  I was too intimidated to even take it out of the box at first (I asked my dad to do it), but now that I have started using it, I love it.  Pictures to follow shortly in subsequent posts.

 

A White Christmas

[Edited below @5:40pm on 15 December 2010]

A week or so before we left Melbourne, I was hanging out the washing on a particularly hot and humid day, smelling the fragrant blossoms from the neighbor's garden, listening to my children practice Jingle Bells on the piano, and trying to convince myself that Christmas was in fact just around the corner.  It all seemed a bit surreal, and I remember thinking that perhaps a bit of snow and cold weather in December is not so bad after all.  Well, we have had no shortage of either since we arrived.  The thermometer read -10 degrees Celsius when I woke up yesterday (please don't ask what time that was), and while Pittsburgh has thus far been spared the heavy snowfall originally predicted, it has been snowing for the past two days.  A brief phone call to my mom yesterday morning confirmed that they have received "only" five or six inches, and since this came after more than a foot last week, I think we can safely say that we will be enjoying a white Christmas.

Our week in Pittsburgh is drawing to a close, and I am rebelling against saying the good-byes all over again.  The days have been full of mini celebrations and friends, and trying to squeeze in everything we possibly can during our short stay.  I would describe it as bursts of intense emotional times spent catching up on the past five months (which I have dearly treasured) alternating with periods of rest when we have crashed from exhaustion at home.  The children have done well, in fact, far better than I had expected.  Many have inquired about James and his reaction to being back in his beloved Pittsburgh, and yes, he has been very happy.  Yesterday, however, he was upset about something, and he stated with characteristic frown accompanied by menacing sounds in his throat, "I just want to go all the way back in Pittsbird!"  As he realized what he said, he looked at me, we both grinned, and then shared a laugh. 

As always there is much to for which to be thankful.  The blessings began before we ever arrived as friends volunteered to help us settle back in.  A crate of groceries awaited us in the garage as we pulled into the driveway, the house was well prepared to welcome us (including homemade bread, scones from Loafers, and my favorite chocolates!), my children and I have been well fed and cared for at various times, and we were able to meet up with many of our friends at a Christmas open house hosted by an amazingly capable friend. Yet another friend insisted on serving as my personal shopper, offering her advice and helping me to find things that I needed.  Countless others have expressed genuine interest in our adventures down under and allowed us to share with them what we have been learning and experiencing. For all of this I am so very grateful.

My camera has been sadly neglected. I did manage to take a few pictures of the girls ice skating outdoors and a cookie making session.  The photos show only a very small sampling of what we have been up to lately, but I include them nonetheless.

I hope to check in again with some pictures and notes from our time in Ohio with my family, but for now will wish you all a joyful Christmas.

p.s.  I suspected that the moment I hit the publish button I would remember other things for which I am grateful, and sure enough at least two more came to mind throughout the day.  My dad loaning us his Honda Pilot has meant that we have felt very safe driving in the snowy conditions, and getting out of our steep driveway has mostly been a piece of cake.  I am also thankful for my daughter Katie who pointed out on Monday afternoon (only minutes after I had assured her that I was having no trouble at all with driving) that our car was traveling down the left side of a snow-covered Franklin Road.  Those who know how windy this two lane road is can appreciate what could have happened.  We are so grateful for God's hand of protection over us thus far, and yes, I am paying more attention to where my car is after making a turn!

Grateful for Coffee

We have reached the five day point of our arrival in North America, and I am beginning to think that three weeks will not be long enough for us to adjust to the time difference.  Cameron is doing the best so far, as he managed to fall asleep and stay asleep by 11:30 last night. I refused to watch the clock after that point.  In spite of forcing myself to get up far earlier than I would like to in the morning, I find it impossible to fall asleep much before 3am. My normally early-rising children would sleep until noon if I let them, a sign that they are not getting to sleep much before I am.  The dilemma is whether to wake them all up and risk having everyone else feel as grumpy and out of sorts as I do, or to enjoy my first two cups of coffee in peace and quiet and worry about their sleep schedules later.  So far the quiet, that rarest of commodities in a houseful of children, has been winning.

In spite of the sleeping difficulties, we are loving this time of reconnecting with family and friends.  I do not think I will be able to do justice to the intensity of the emotions we find ourselves experiencing.  Whether it is holding my new born niece for the first time, listening to my children share all of their new experiences with their grandparents, savoring each room of our house, or catching up with friends who have known us for many years, the feelings run deep and make us grateful for the riches of so many loved ones.

I stepped outside our front door this morning and took the following pictures.  We hear that more snow is on its way, and I don't even mind, something Ross cannot understand.  The snow does help to compensate for the lack of daylight this time of year, and perhaps the knowledge that we will soon be returning to the heat of summer helps us appreciate it that much more.

 

Little India (One Last Singapore Post)

I am indulging in some serious suitcase avoidance at the moment, as I would far rather be composing at the computer than engaging in that most tedious of chores, packing.  The fact that I am responsible for five people (I steadfastly refuse to pack for Ross, and even make the kids do as much as they possibly can) for a three week period of time that includes winter weather, dressing up for the holidays, and gift giving, only makes the job harder.  To make matters worse, as we are in the midst of summer, I am having to dig out sweaters, and search for things such as long-lost black tights, boots and other almost-forgotten items.

A neighbor rang earlier today to invite us for a cuppa, and she came close to apologizing for doing so because she imagined that I must be "flat out."  I have taken a liking to this expression and have added it to my ever-expanding lexicon. It seems especially appropriate for the month of December, which here not only includes the usual Christmas preparations, but all of the end-of-school events as well (musical concerts, graduations, picnics).  Throw in an honest attempt to homeschool two elementary children, appropriately occupy, cuddle, and teach an active preschooler, along with keeping track of a husband constantly being asked to continent-hop, and perhaps it is no surprise that I have considered hiding under the covers until it is all over.

Instead, I am escaping for a few moments here.  I conveniently remembered that I had never written about our second visit to Little India, which, by the way, was hot, hot, hot.  It was the only day where we didn't experience any relief from the heat and humidity from the regular afternoon thunderstorm, and so we were forced to provide our own relief by visiting a khulfi bar.  This proved to be a delicious, albeit expensive, interlude.

Khulfi is a traditional Indian ice cream, often eaten on a stick or served in bite-size morsels that have been frozen in little molds.  Ross and I ordered mango khulfi mixed with almonds and caramel sauce.  Every mouthful went down smoothly and gratefully.  The children had chocolate and strawberry mixed with marshmellows (this was the treat Sophie happily traded for a Hersheys chocolate bar). 

 

A much-happier crew afterward:

A picture for my dad:

The Abdul Gaffoor Mosque:  We could not enter to have a look as we were not wearing long pants.

The bright colors tell only half the story.  With boomboxes blaring music at every shop, and spices pervading the air throughout, Little India is a multi-sensory experience.  We saw very few tourists (in truth we encountered very few people period, perhaps because it was afternoon on a hot day), a big contrast to Chinatown.

Surely the most colorful building in Little India, the villa below was once the residence of a wealthy confectionery maker.

It is back to reality and the present for me.  Thankfully the older three have completed their packing.  Their suitcases are standing by the door, a full thirty-six hours before they strictly need to be.  Mine are still empty, but as I know from previous experience, a vast amount of packing can be accomplished in a very short period of time.

Home for Chrissy to Open Prezzies with the Rellies

The suitcases have been taken down once again from the cupboards as we prepare for our big three week trip back to North America. James is keeping track of the days left very carefully, and will soon move from a daily to an hourly countdown.  Ross is currently en route to Amsterdam (a somewhat unexpected trip), and calculated on Sunday that he would be spending four of the next nine nights on airplanes. By the time the dust has settled in January, he will have been on four continents in the space of two months.  We will not be far behind him, leaving a rather large carbon footprint for our family of six.

As we mark the four month point of our sojourn down under and prepare to return home for a much anticipated visit, various reflections and emotions have been swirling through our thoughts and minds.  The subject of today's post, however, will be limited to language.  A second language post has been in the works for some time, and I will occasionally jot down notes of curious phrases and pronunciations that we hear on a regular basis.   What has become most interesting to us at this point is not so much the accent, to which we are gradually adjusting, but the astonishingly high number of abbreviations we hear everywhere around us.  It would appear that the amount of  abbreviations one can use down under is limited only by one's imagination and the total number of words in the Australian version of the English language.

Here are some recently-heard phrases, all of which took me an extra second (or two or three) to unravel.  I still completely miss the meaning of every fifth sentence or so that I hear when out and about, and no doubt these often contain abbreviations.  Others I have heard and understood but immediately forgotten. I have a feeling, however, that this list is plenty long for a blog post.

1.  Heard on the cricket field as the eskies (short for eskimos, or ice coolers) started appearing:

Who would like a snag with sauce? Fortunately I had the visual props to help me with this one---grilled sausages and a bottle filled with what we would call ketchup--but I did ask for clarification.  I was glad I did because my fellow cricket parents were most happy to explain that not only can snag refer to a sausage, it also stands for a Sensitive New Age Guy.  This means a male who is fully comfortable with being a bloke, but is simultaneously in touch with his feelings.

2. Still on the cricket field, during tea:

I slipped some zuchy in my (homemade) sausage rolls.  The boys will never notice! (zuchini)

3.  Still on the cricket field (did I mention that cricket lasts a very, very long time?):

I'll be handling the new reggos tomorrow afternoon. (registrations)

4.  From the librarian as we prepared to check out our books:

Did you pick up all your rezzies?  (reserved books)

5.  After the earthquake in New Zealand:

I hope all of your rellies are okay. (relatives)

6.  On a Christmas album (this one's obvious)

It's Chrissy time in Waga Waga.

7.  I have written down the word bennie, but I no longer remember what word is being shortened.  Benefit?

8.  From my daughter's friend as we drove home from school:

The best part of Saturday is being able to put on trackies when we wake up (track pants).

9.  In an online forum:

Can you pm me your addy? (Can you send me your address in a private message?)

10.  From my fashion-minded consultant-friend Gillian, the same one who recommended that I buy a small handbag just big enough for my sunnies and my lippy:

I'm going to pop in to Chaddy's later today.  Chadstones---the name of our closest shopping mall.  I asked another friend later about the use of Chaddy for Chadstones, and she explained that she would never use this abbreviation herself because she doesn't like shopping there.  Apparently abbreviations have some connection to feeling affection for a particular object much as nicknames do.

On the subject of nicknames, which I have covered in a previous post, it was recently reinforced to me, again while we were ostensibly watching a cricket match (did I mention that there is plenty of time for conversation?), that every child must have one.  In other words, nicknames are common for everyone, but are absolutely compulsory (a favorite word) for children.  Unfortunately the nicknames make it doubly hard for me to learn everyone's names at cricket, and using a person's first name when speaking to them, especially in greetings, seems to be more even more important here than back home.  

There is an abbreviation that has helped me with names, however, at least for children, both at cricket and at home, and that is the word darl (rhymes with snarl, a full two syllables).  All of the children are referred to as darl, by all of the mothers.  Would you like something to drink, darl?  What is the matter, darl?  Is your daddy coming tonight, darl?  Here, darl, let me help you with that.  If I need to address a boy, and don't want to resort to darl, I have a good chance of getting the right name if I use Locky, short for Lachlan, as there are three or four of them associated with our team of 12 boys.

I asked the older two about nicknames, and they gave me two examples. One of the girls in Katie's class is called "Bruce" (a well-known sports commentator) by the teacher because she always has to make a comment about what is happening.  Cameron reminded me that a boy on his cricket team prefers to be called "Mecca," a shortened version of his last name.

Thus far my own children are fiercely resisting any nicknames.  James has been dubbed Jamos by the older kids at church, and as long as we don't use it at home, he answers to it.  I have incorporated darl into my normal speech at home, finding it very convenient. Sophie especially dislikes it, but I maintain that it is surely an improvement on "Katie, Cameron, Sophie I mean James, or whoever you are, will you please help me clean up this mess?"