School's Out

In 1982, as a pupil at Vallis First School - Frome's dodgiest primary - I used to look in through the classroom window at playtime and see my teacher Mrs Williams sitting at her desk, smoking a cigarette. If she was in a good mood she would give me a wave. She was never in a good mood.

I've mused on this image often over the years. After a week of home schooling Pete, I finally understand the old witch.

I jest, I jest. I'm fairly sure she wasn't a real witch. But along with many incarcerated parents, and not a few children, my admiration for those who nurture young minds has ascended even higher. I mean, there's more to this than getting Pete to copy out the New Testament for eight hours a day. The school sent a timetable, and we have to do CREATIVE things. Then I have to take photos and upload them to an online portfolio! The technical challenge of this was actually greater than anything else we've faced this week.

Having complained at his recent birthday that I just don't feel as relevant in Pete's life, now that he can read, swim, and ride a bike, the irony isn't lost on me. So I've been working very hard on being a good educator. I will occasionally make him turn off the computer and attempt to teach something face-to-face. The trouble is, I'm not actually sure myself why a boat floats, or how photosynthesis works, or how to multiply two numbers together. Don't get me started on the Spanish - I just add "a" or "o" to the end of English words and hope for the best. There's been some spanking, but only from Hannah after Pete's gone to bed.

I read an interesting article today about how medical modelling led to Houston's county judge and mayor acting early for a shut down, and that their decisions should mean this is all over by May as long as everyone respects the lockdown rules. Wishful thinking, but I'm hoping that I can put Pete back in the hands of a professional educator before the semester is out, for everyone's sake.

Now leave me alone, it's my smoking break.

We're missing our daily bike ride!

The Internet is a great educator.

We do get some social interaction during the day, thanks to next-door's cat Phillio.

On an evening walk we found a park with social distancing guidelines built in!

Sociable distancing

Once again, I'm proud of the British ability to deal with a crisis. Not because of some manufactured "Keep Calm And Carry On" outlook or dubious "Dunkirk spirit", but because we're happy to have a picnic in the rain.

Day three of self-quarantine began with our neighbours the Lefevres holding a little Sunday morning service on their back porch. As every good Anglican knows, you have to arrive early to get a seat at the back, so the distance between us and where the worship was happening was perfect. We sang hymns in imitation of what the Italians do from their picturesque balconies.

We then needed to get outside, but far away from other people. Like elsewhere, parks and footpaths are packed with everyone doing the same thing, so we got in the car and drove to the seaside. Galveston is empty at the best of times but today we saw approximately four other people, and one of those may have been a pelican.

It was also helped by the weather, which was heavily overcast and somewhat rainy. But our entire British life was run on the doctrine "I said I was going on a picnic, so I'm damn well going!" Once again, the fact that no one around here has vaguely the same crazed attitude was extremely helpful.

Of course, even on a rainy day I managed to get sunburned, another vestige of pale northern European heritage, so now I look like I'm running a fever so bad that it's cooking me, which is more reason to stay out of sight. Tomorrow is the start of home school - and rumours of an imminent Houstonian lockdown abound - so I agree it was good to get some fresh air, even if my lobster-coloured skin doesn't.

 Preaching to the choir.

Remember to keep a minimum of six miles between you and the next person.

Life In Lockdown

We're not technically under lockdown here, although I'm fairly sure it's just a matter of time until "shelter in place" is called. But because of our filthy travel habits we've decided to be prudent and self-quarantine, following the situation of all our friends in Walnut Creek and throughout the Bay Area.

The good news is: we got home from Florida! The bad news is that messages about social distancing still haven't filtered through. We moved to sit in the empty rows at the back of the plane, and the stewardess asked why we didn't like our assigned seats. There was much talk from the families three rows in front about how this is all overblown, while a grandpa explained to everyone who would listen that "it's just a smoker's cough that I've had for ages." Yeah.

The long-term parking was packed last Sunday but is now only about a tenth full. There's talk that a travel ban won't be needed because the airlines are having to cut so many flights anyway. That's the beauty of free-market economics...right until the taxpayer-funded bailout. Talking of which, apparently the US government is going to send us all cheques in the mail! I'm not sure we'll see one with our nonimmigrant status (and zero need), but I'm just pleased with America finally adopting socialism. More of this, comrades!

I made my one essential trip out to our local Kroger supermarket at 7am this morning, when it was a little more crowded than I'd expect but not bad. I love this Kroger due to the completely disinterested, surly attitude of the staff, which proves to be extremely effective in this time of crisis. They had no problem shouting at a foolish teenager to put back 18 of the 20 packs of disinfectant wipes she had in her trolley. Stand too close to a Kroger employee and you're likely to get a slap first and an explanation later. These are my people.

Of course, nothing that needed chopping or cooking was in any kind of short supply so I did our weekly vegetable shop as usual. And yet...and yet it's so easy to get caught up in the panic. I bought a can of Spam. I hate Spam! Like Corona, mass hysteria is highly contagious.

So here we are, Pete still in his pyjamas and Hannah working in the bedroom. I had an old flat-pack desk in the garage that I've been dragging around with us since Vancouver, so I rebuilt it last night, extremely pleased to find the sealed and labelled plastic bag of screws in my DIY drawer. I never said all hoarding is bad!

Stay safe and sane everyone, and watch out for my future exciting blog posts: "How Many Tiles Are In My Bathroom?" "I Rearrange Our Cutlery" "Look At The Pyramid I Made Out Of Socks!" etc.

I'm pretty sure my usual holiday dress will keep Covid-19 away, because it works for everything else.

Official ping pong table length? 9ft! The perfect quarantine activity.

It's very important to stay hydrated.

 Another one of the locals, this time sneaking into our hotel! Shocking.

We even had a trip to the Keys. I judge this holiday to have been "efficient" in terms of fitting a lot into a shorter than anticipated timescale.

Someone doesn't want Spring Break to end.

Safely back home, and Hannah works hard to keep the oil flowing. Someone else works hard to keep her coffee flowing, because if that stops we are ALL in trouble.

Love In A Time Of Corona

It's Spring Break, which means that it's time for our family holiday to Florida! Leaving was a decision that naturally came with much debate, but we decided that on a scale of toilet paper hoarding to toilet seat licking (what is it with toilets?!) we should be ruled by science rather than fear. So here we are! Traveling around America in a time of Covid-19 is interesting, to say the least.

First, the British are born with social distancing genetically programmed. Since I moved here, it's been upsetting how damn huggy Americans are! Now that I have an excuse to tell people to stay away I'm far more relaxed about going out. It's also easy to do when you're the only people sitting on the aeroplane. It's harder in restaurants, where I've been getting dirty looks from waiters when suggesting that maybe we could sit over there rather than right by the only other people in here.

Second, did no one wash their hands before this all started? I've seen some terrifying statistics, backed up by my anecdotal observations and the amount of abuse I've been getting from Vince and Christine (who we met up with here) for my hygiene evangelism. As a life-long nail biter, this is going a long way to curing me of putting my fingers in my mouth.

Today the governor announced that all Florida's bars and restaurants are basically shut, with the same in Houston. It's frustrating to see how knee-jerk the responses have been: "let's pretend nothing is happening until we hit a wall". I can't help feeling a more measured approach could keep things moving, keep people safe and keep people employed. A new normal, as it were, where you're ushered to the restroom to wash your hands as you enter any public building, where seats are a lot further apart than normal, where we bow Japanese style and stop standing so close, where we enjoy solitary walks in nature before going home and reading quietly. You know, the way I believe the world always should have worked. Sadly only me and South Korea agree on this.

We were planning to stay until Sunday, but with rumours of a domestic travel ban in the works we're flying on Thursday instead. If we get stuck, the car rental company is going to be surprised to get their vehicle back in Houston instead of Orlando. We'll then be isolating for three weeks while Pete's school closure has been extended and Hannah's working from home. Then - hopefully - the USA will be in a much better position to assess things, and we might be allowed to fly back to Britain again one day.

Until then, don't forget to wash your hands.

No one nearby? Lots of UV to kill all known bugs? Looks good.

Claire is now TALL! Could you put a bit more space between yourselves? Thanks.

A Florida-sized pretzel.

Big palm tree, little Miami.

Pete and a coconut.

Getting suspicious looks from a local.

The Everglades.

Another local, more looks.

And more space! This might genuinely be the USA's best defense, some of it is very big and very empty.

Pool hustlers.

The happy faces of children who have just been made to wash their hands, again, by me.

The Davies Academy For The Exceptionally Gifted

Plans to home school my son have always been met with much hostility from my wife, even though the Houston education system is shocking. They teach such things as evolution, that the world isn't flat, and that Elvis is dead! I do my best to correct Pete after school, but there's only so much one can do.

So when news came that they were closing all the Houston schools because of germs - another concept I'm dubious about - I jumped at the opportunity! Everything is shut until March 30th (at least...) and so today I opened The Davies Academy For The Exceptionally Gifted, with three inaugural students: Pete, Levi and Lexi.

The writing was on the wall for a few days, when the school mentioned it was putting together folders of info about online courses. Pete came out yesterday asking me to carry his backpack, which held four telephone-directory-thick workbooks. With the rodeo shutting, concerts cancelled, and museums shuttered, we're in a strange non-lockdown lockdown, where the fear of being sued seems to be driving decisions. Not a bad thing, if it makes the USA take public health seriously.

But back to the lessons! Mr Davies the stern class teacher began with some drawing to music, followed by book reading then recess at the local park (where many exasperated parents kept social distance from each other). I puzzled over how to keep the school's bilingual curriculum intact, but thought a switch to Welsh might be a little jarring. Luckily I found Frozen 2 in Spanish, so that took care of that and left me free to pursue a teacher's onerous administrative tasks, such as popping out the back for a quick smoke.

We finished with computer studies followed by maths worksheets, then I dismissed all three children with glowing report cards. Thankfully no one was sent to Principal Davies's office, although Nurse David was required when Lexi bumped her knee.

It's Spring Break from tomorrow, which means the current hiatus is one week of holiday and one of more home school, although I think it'll just be me and Pete then; he can expect much intense one-to-one Bible study, possibly with some hymn singing. Once word gets out, even after school restarts The Davies Academy is expected to be massively oversubscribed. Get your child's name on the wait list now!

The school day starts with the pledge of allegiance...to the Queen.

Highly industrious.

All under the watchful eye of Snr. Davies.

Dunce caps are apparently too negative. Never did me any harm!

Family history project.

I did engage a substitute teacher for some lessons.

Sand pit.

More art!

Then Lexi informed me that it was nap time.

Which lasted about 30 seconds.

What better way to learn a foreign language than by watching Disney films?

Computer studies. I think there may be a lot of "computer studies" during Pete's school closure.

The toilet paper aisle. Yes, they're as crazy around here as everywhere else! Thank goodness I hoarded 10,000 rolls last month.

Not my first

The rodeo's back in town! Yes, it's that time of year when urban Houstonians get to pretend to be cowgirls/boys. Some country folks sniff at all this, but being "Texan" has always been about acting the part. Ever since the Texians came down from the East Coast and the Tejanos came up from Mexico, Texas was never held together by family ties or ethnic groups but by people saying "We're here, so we're Texans!" It's a grand tradition that lives on to this day, specifically when I go to thrift stores and find myself some fantastic, only slightly musty rodeo-wear.

So I certainly smelled authentic as I accompanied my embarrassed wife to the Chevron suite for a night of watching cattle roping and bull riding. Security banned me from taking my camera in, claiming that it was too professional (the first time I've been accused of that) but luckily a lady selling hot sauce outside the arena held onto it for me, and I bought several bottles as thanks.

A couple of days later we went back with Pete, to wander the judging arenas - goats and rabbits that day - enjoy the various agricultural displays, and treat him to some fairground rides. There were a few new features this year, including a walk-in cage full of budgies, but the best part is how enthusiastic the farmers and breeders are! A lady chatted to me for 20 minutes about bee keeping, and we were allowed to pet several rabbits when their owners saw us admiring them in their show cages.

Being locals, we also knew how to do it right: in by 8.30am and out by lunch, before the crowds appeared. They've been somewhat dampened this year by virus scare, although odds are better of getting mauled by a llama in the petting zoo than catching that. I now have a year to continue improving my Texan-ness, perhaps get in an animal to show in 2021. A horse? A longhorn? Maybe start with a rabbit and go from there.

Does it get more Texan? Answer: no.

We all have dreams, and we all end up battered and fried.

Popcorn chicken.

Budgie smuggler.

 Close genetic variants.

Californians together!

Hannah, overcome by the friendliness of the goats in the petting zoo.

It's all about the trucks.

"Farming Simulator" is a good title for the whole rodeo.

See? We are genuinely rural. Just not around here.

A corn-pit!

Enjoying a completely health and safety compliant fairground ride.

Pizza on a stick.