Graduation

A while ago I was sucked in by the promise of free ice cream to volunteer at Concord Childcare Center.  I've been going along every Thursday, helping kids whose parents don't speak English to finish their homework.  I've certainly provided amusement, being "really tall" and "sounding funny", and fumbling through the odd Spanish phrase now and again ("más rápido, por favor").

But today I had to wave goodbye to a large section of the class at their graduation.  Some of these kids started at the place when they were four months old, and now at the age of seven have to find their own support after school.  Oh, and the bankrupt state of California is cutting the Center's funding by $200,000 next year because apparently people think they can pay lower taxes and have the same level of public services.  Don't get me started...

Anyway, I arrived to find a flurry of activity as the girls had eye shadow and make-up applied, and they boys got sparkly gel in their hair.  Then it was outside to do a goodbye dance in front of the parents, and for teachers Iris and Niele to give a little speech about each graduating child before giving them a certificate and a backpack.  Thankfully everything was bilingual, for the three of us in the crowd that can't (yet!) speak Spanish.  And while I did shed a tear or two - metaphorically - at my kiddies growing up, I also met next year's class.  And they are soooooooo cute!

Preparations in full swing, with Gennesis in the chair.

Fellow volunteer Allison gets the healthy fruit platters ready.

The girls looking good, and Yahir in the background (and teacher Iris behind him).

Me and my super-cute kiddies!  My quest to adopt Mexican babies continues...

Class of 2011.

The end-of-year dance.

The class of 2012 sings a goodbye song to the outgoing seniors.

Teachers Niele and Iris MC proceedings.

Hermione proudly displays her certificate and bag.

Graduates together.

The food arrives, and I got to try my first tomale.

Food + excitement + a bouncy castle.  I left before it got messy.

Special delivery

After months (literally, months!) of ongoing, increasingly heated emails with the company that we've paid to finally bring all our stuff from England over, today we received the very happy information that it is on its way!  It's only taken a week for them to tell us it left, but my now-American expectations of customer service have to be tempered when dealing with the old country.

The box of goodies is on board the London Express, a large and precarious looking container ship.  Pray for calm seas, as Hannah says.  We have bought insurance - if we didn't we'd apparently be liable for salvage costs, and my snorkeling isn't that great.

So we wait with fingers crossed that everything goes smoothly and that US Customs looks kindly on such items as our purple fish bath pillow, wheeled wire vegetable rack, and Virgin Mary barometer (blue for dry, pink for rainy).  It's going to be an interesting voyage down memory lane when all one-hundred-and-eleven packages finally arrive.  And then Chevron will give Hannah a placement in Azerbaijan and we can go through this all over again (except this time, they'll pay).

The London Express.  God bless her and all who sail on her (and their stuff).

Where is she now?  Well, somewhere off the coast of Canada, hopefully avoiding icebergs and pirates.  Real-time tracking available here.

The way to a girl's heart

Is pink ice cream.

Well, froyo, but who can tell the difference (when you're two)?

Chaos reigns

U2 are playing in Oakland tonight, supported by Lenny Kravitz.  This event had a number of profound effects on me.  The first was that I had seen both of these acts almost 20 years ago - one at the long gone Parc yr Arfau Caerdydd, the other at the Pilton Pop Festival - which brought into stark view my ongoing mortality.  The other was that we got to babysit not only Arbel, but also Claire and JJ while their parents enjoyed themselves at the show!  Noa was unfortunately unavailable.

As usual, the biggest challenge was getting the parents out the door, but after the infinite kisses and hugs (for us and the kids) they were all finally gone and then the fun could start.  JJ has learned to roll, but not cause and effect so is always shocked and upset to find himself on his tummy.  Arbel has a new trick every day, is crawling army-style, but enjoyed spending most of his time kissing his reflection.  And Claire...well, another reminder of time passing is when you can have a dinner conversation with someone you met on the day of their birth.  Scary.

After a slightly frantic 15 minutes when bath time, book time, tooth brushing, nappy changing and two bottles all seemed to happen at once, I can report that it is 8pm and I am enjoying a cold beer in the silence and calm of my own home.  Which will only last until the parents get back from the concert...

Everybody occupied.

We eventually outsourced babysitting to Claire, and went out for a cocktail.  You don't even have to pay two-year-olds the minimum wage!

Cute-as-pie Arbelli.

Vince, I thought you were going to the U2 concert!?

Now, seriously, which of us is the most gorgeous?

Means of production

Ever since leaving Britain there has been a hole in my heart, and that hole is in the shape of a fish finger sandwich.  Along with bread and butter pudding, it is undoubtedly my country's greatest contribution to world cuisine (so many to choose from!)  Yet its central ingredient, the aforementioned fish finger, is harder to find here than a decent cup of tea.

But today, by complete coincidence, one of the leaflets from Target that regularly chokes up our post box featured 50c off a packet of 'fish sticks'.  On an initial inspection of the postage-stamp-sized picture on the coupon, they seemed to resemble something not entirely dissimilar from the golden cuboids of loveliness I so miss.

An excited hour later, all the necessary ingredients were in my possession and Hannah let me into the kitchen to assemble my creation.  In these healthy times I opted to grill rather than fry, and I had to substitute a white hotdog bun for a fresh slice of Hovis.

After all my hard work it was time to bite into the gourmet dish.  Tears didn't quite fill my eyes - the quality was certainly below the standards of the sandwiches Mat would regularly serve for lunch back in Witton Gilbert.  Hannah speculated this was due to the sweetness of American bread rather than the fish sticks.  It was, however, close enough to encourage more experimentation, and I felt proud to ignite another small light of civilisation (with an 's') in this dark place.

Ingredient one.

Ingredient two.

Ingredient three.  Hey, it's the way you put them together that counts!

Hmmm...not entirely convinced.

Note the even distribution of the tomato sauce.  That takes practice.

Many fish gave small bits of themselves for my enjoyment.

Everything in position.

The slightly unconventional but acceptable addition of mayonnaise, in lieu of tartare sauce.

Fish finger sandwich and a fine Merlot.  And one satisfied customer.

Weekend away

We spent the weekend down in Monterey.  I didn't take many pics, mainly due to a lot of shocking rain, but here are a few.

The beach, up near Marina, where we stopped to pick up some drinks from the English Ales Brewery.  The service and the prices were certainly English. 

It was military appreciation at the Del Monte mall, and here is some of the entertainment on offer.  Which war did these ladies see?

Claire at brunch.

Without her, man is nothing

Long ago I was mistakenly the only man at a Haas Women in Leadership event.  History threatened to repeat itself tonight when I agreed to be Hannah's arm candy at the 9th Annual Women's Initiative Gala.  A lady from Chevron was the honorary chair so they'd sponsored two tables and, as usual, were offering free food to people who kindly agreed to fill seats.  Dress code was "business swanky", so I donned my one suit (good-for-weddings-and-funerals) and off we went to the Fairmont Hotel in SF.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief as soon as I spotted a few more males, but with 800 people attending we were certainly a tiny minority.  The organisers know their audience too, as the evening started with a massive shopping opportunity.  Women's Initiative runs business classes for lower-income women in the Bay Area, encouraging them to start small companies, gain economic independence, and boost the economy and the community.  Many graduates had stalls set up, selling everything from jewelry made from recycled materials to mini Peruvian empanadas.

Dinner was in the Grand Ballroom (of course) and the Chevron table hosted several graduates of the scheme.  I sat next to Andrea, who has just launched her own skincare business called Rebma Elyk and sold her first pot of cream that night.  And she could talk!  I also chatted to a portrait photographer, and a graphic designer who has just moved here from Sydney.  Dare I say it, but these 11-week evening classes seem to leave people somewhat more equipped to run their own company than a Haas MBA does...

Delicious food and wine kept coming while awards were given out.  As ever in this great country, it was firstly about the networking and secondly about money.  "Raise your hand if you're willing to write a cheque for $10,000 tonight," the chairwoman commanded in her speech.  Somebody did, but Hannah was unwilling to warm up the Chevron corporate credit card that much.  She contented herself with buying a box of chocolates and a pot of Andrea's hand cream.

Shopping under chandeliers.

Women are on the rise.  I've known that for a long time.

It's Christin Ayers, who's a lady off the telly!

Dessert.  Oh yes.

Hannah and Andrea complete their transaction.