Surviving the 100 Days of Darkness

London is 51 degrees, 32 minutes north of the equator.  That's pretty far north, my friends.  And that means that our daylight hours are very short in the winter.  When we first arrived I was warned about the "100 Days of Darkness" that were to come.  And, I must admit, it's quite a change from sunny southern California and sparkling bright Sydney, Australia.

Bike riding on a sunny morning.

In these, the darkest days of winter, the sun rises around 8 am and sets about 4 pm.  This means that it is dark when my kids leave for school in the morning, and dark when they return home in the afternoon.

Virginia Water Lake

Roman ruins at Virginia Water Lake

All this darkness can have a some negative effects.

It is estimated that around 25% of the people in the UK suffer from some form of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)- ranging from mild "winter blues" to severely debilitating depression.

Jack enjoying the sunshine (and the bitterly cold weather)

And while I don't think anyone in our household falls into those categories, I have certainly noticed an increase in our slothfulness.  Everyone wants to stay home in pyjamas/pajamas, read books, watch movies and eat popcorn.

And if we're lucky enough to get a few hours of sunshine we force ourselves out of the house to enjoy it.

Swan enjoying the sunshine on Virginia Water Lake

All photos taken on the morning of January 2, 2012 during a brief burst of sunshine and blue skies.  Just a couple hours later it was pouring rain and dark again!

Guy Fawkes Night

Remember, remember the 5th of November

Gunpowder, treason, and plot.

I see no reason why gunpowder, treason

Should ever be forgot!

(My kids have been singing this little ditty for weeks).

Last night we celebrated our first Guy Fawkes night in the UK.  We got together with friends and watched the big neighborhood bonfire and fireworks show.  We listened to backyard fireworks going off late into the night.  

One of the fun things about living overseas is the chance to learn about different holidays and traditions and local culture.  This celebration is so uniquely British, and we were glad to join in the fun.

It almost makes up for the fact that Halloween barely exists and, of course, there is no Thanksgiving here.  I guess now it's full speed ahead to Christmas!  

What a Load of Rubbish

Imagine my surprise when we discovered that the rubbish collection here in our lovely borough is only once a fortnight.  (Translation for Americans: once every two weeks).  Not only that, but we are allowed only one medium sized wheelie bin for our regular rubbish.  Now, we are a family of 5, the smallest of whom is still in nappies.  I just can't see how this is going to work.  So I called up the council and pleaded my case.  I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I must adhere to the limits.  Never mind that 2 weeks worth of nappies will fill up half of that bin.  According to my local council the only things that should be going in that bin are the nappies and a certain kind of plastic wrappers.  Everything else is recyclable.  Really?  I can think of a few other things that shouldn't be recycled (dryer lint, used Kleenex, etc. but who am I to argue?).

Which brings me to the next point:  Recycling.  The council has set up a convoluted recycling scheme with multiple buckets, bags, bins and barrels.  Food waste in one, tins and glass in another, cartons and cardboard separate from household paper.  One bag for junk mail, but not envelopes.  A bag for dead batteries and one for clothing that is clean and useable.  Three green bags for garden trimmings.  I think I need a spreadsheet to keep track of it all!

In the meantime, I'm trying to figure out how to organize all these items while I wait for them to be picked up.  At the moment, I am simply shoving all recycling into a spare kitchen cabinet.  It looks like this:

There must be a better way.

And what about the garage full of cardboard we were left with after Tom assembled our house full of IKEA furniture?  Well, that required three trips to the local recycling centre which in and of itself is a sight to see.

Leave your unwanted fridge here.

Yes, one of those is actually for recycling used postage stamps. 

Now I've seen everything!

Did you know you can actually recycle your old bras?  Yep, here you can.  I guess everything actually can be recycled after all!

First Things First- Finding A School

The first order of business regarding our move to the UK was to find a school for our children.  Given everything we had heard about the school system there, we knew it was going to be a bit complicated.  Schools are all graded by Ofsted reports and the schools with the top scores are typically oversubscribed.  Unlike the U.S., living within the school's catchment area does not guarantee your child a spot at that school.  Since our move was scheduled for August we quickly abandoned all hope of finding a spot for our kids at a good state run school.  They would all certainly be full well before then.

Private schools were also ruled out for the sole reason that the high tuition fees would not be covered by our company.

Which leaves us with American or International Schools.  These schools also have outrageously high fees, but our company agreed to cover them as part of the contract.  So we quickly focused our search on the three main American options.

Initially, I assumed the American School in London would be our first choice.  Tom will be spending a fair amount of time in the central London office and I fancied the idea of living in the heart of the city.  But my hopes were quickly dashed when I learned they would not even accept the little guy's application because they were so oversubscribed at the pre-kindergarten level.

So we expanded our search to the home counties where several American schools are located.  As it turns out, my two older kids now attend two different American schools in Surrey.  And I'm really happy about that decision.

The classes are small (14 kids), the teachers are excellent, the curriculum is challenging, and the schools are specifically prepared to help "third culture kids" adjust to life in their new country. 

When it comes to schools, I'm not easily impressed.  But, based on what I've seen so far, these schools are truly impressive.  I feel lucky that my kids will have this educational experience.  And living in the beautiful suburban English countryside is turning out to be a little fringe benefit.  So far, so good!

I'm Back!

After only 2 short weeks of darkness, British Telecom has us up and running with a working phone and DSL internet!  Everyone loves to complain about BT, but so far (knock wood) I have nothing bad to say about them.  (I know what you're thinking : "Just wait . . . .").

To celebrate my return to the 21st century, I thought I'd take you on a little photo tour of my new neighborhood.  We're living in Surrey, near London and it is gorgeous here.  Of course I still can't find my way to Waitrose (our supermarket) without the sat/nav, but it is slowly starting to feel like home.

 Our new place.  I think it might be the smallest house in the neighborhood.

 

Apparently the British love to name their houses.  It's so charming to hear people say, "I live at Woodbury House (or Watersteps, or Christmas Cottage)"

 

The view down our street.  Perfect for bike riding.  Of course, my kids have never ridden in the street before and are completely terrified that a car is going to come along and run them over.  I wonder how long it will take them to get over that?

 So that's what it means to be on the verge!

 

Baby Jack and I like to take afternoon walks to this little patisserie.  

Warm cheese and bacon croissant anyone?

 Near the patisserie we have a little mini-market endearingly called Budgens.  There are so many Americans in the neighborhood that they have a little "Americatessen" section.  I found this rather amusing- The British seem to think Americans love Hersheys (yes!), Goldfish (yes!), Jif (yes!) and- not one but two-different kinds of marshmallow fluff (what??).  

But, hey, it's good to know it's there if I need it. 

And finally, this is Mittens.  She came by to introduce herself the day we moved in.  We're hoping she becomes our surrogate pet.  You know, the kind the kids can play with and then send home to it's real owners who have all the responsibility.   That would be just perfect.