The American Adventure - Vol 19

1 - 31 December 98

If you want to go straight to Vol 20, you may do so now!

...

Tim started the month in New Orleans, having flown there on 30 November. The excuse for his trip was that Tim was attending a conference on Defense (sic) Manufacturing. For some strange reason the conference was pitched at such a level that he needed a security clearance to attend. He had put in all the paperwork weeks and weeks prior to the event and made the stupid assumption that everything would all have been sorted out by the time he got down there.

After making the trip down from DC, on a direct flight which is unusual when heading to cities on the Gulf of Mexico, he got his hire car and made his way to the French Quarter. He finally found Hotel Monteleone which is situated on Royal Street. Royal Street is the street where the little vampire family in Interview with a Vampire lived and happens to be no more than two streets away from Bourbon Street. After a brief recce, Tim found that that the Marriott Hotel where the conference was being held was also only two blocks away, absolutely perfect placement.

The Hotel Monteleone is one of the oldest in the region and has recently been renovated. As you walk in you are confronted with this amazing foyer that takes your breath away, it really is a very impressive hotel. Anyway, Tim booked in, dumped all his stuff in his room and made his way to the conference to check in.

Sorry, Mr Pyatt, your security clearance did not come through. Omigod!

Tim rang the Embassy in a bit of a panic and asked for them to send a hurry up (you bastards) to the USN security bureaucrats and stomped off in search of something to eat (it was lunch time).

Now travelling all the way down to New Orleans for a conference (three days worth) and finding that you can't be let in sounds absolutely terrible. What could Tim possibly do with his time during three days and four nights in New Orleans, otherwise know as Cajun city? Some cynics might think that Tim wasn't that disappointed. Why, here he was in New Orleans for three whole days (and four nights) with nothing to do ... except of course to party. Thoughts like this didn't even occur to him. He was annoyed that the system had let him down and was keen to sort out the mess so that he could do his job. Tim is really professional when it comes to things like that.

So he made his first (and possibly last) visit to Popeyes. Popeyes is a fast food joint that specialises in chicken and biscuits. Note that biscuits are not things like Arnotts or Oreos. Those are called cookies here in the States. In America, biscuits are buttermilk scones. Tim could not think of a stranger combination than chicken and scones. So, until this day, he had not stepped inside a Popeyes. On this particular day, though, Tim saw that they had cajun fried chicken and decided to try it out. Very tasty. There was only one minor problem.

Some people may recall an incident many years ago at a Thai restaurant (only two will remember the actual incident, others may recall the sad sorry retelling of it). Tim and Fran Waddingham had somehow wrangled some free tickets to see a comedian/hypnotist. They had one spare so Tim invited his brother Jeremy to come along. Before the show the three of them went to a Thai restaurant to have a bit of dinner. Tim can't remember much about the meal, except that they had rice (which is sort of a given) and that he nearly choked to death on some of that rice. We hear you wondering - how could you choke on rice? Rice is very small. If you can't swallow rice, what the heck can you swallow?

Tim doesn't profess to understand it, he just knows that at some time during the meal he was sitting there, not able to gasp for air, pleading silently for Jeremy to slap him on the back to dislodge the rice. The next thing he knows, Jeremy and Fran have paid the bill and are getting up to leave. They didn't seem to notice that Tim hadn't actually been breathing for a couple of minutes (and has memory loss for those minutes). He had, in fact, been slowly dying in the corner while they divided up the bill, chatted with the waiter, paid the bill and put their coats on ready to go. Something must have eventually worked right because Tim was finally able to get the rice down at about this time and he started breathing again. Tim's chest ached with the exertion all evening and he spent the next half an hour totally amazed that neither Jeremy or Fran thought it strange that he had been sitting there very quietly while slowly changing in colour from his normal red to something more like a purple grape colour.

Chicken is bigger than rice. A lot bigger. This time, Tim managed to almost kill himself on a mixture of chicken and root beer. Basically, what seems to have happened was that a piece of chicken got lodged somewhere below the airpipe (and Tim hastens to point out that he wasn't gorging himself, he was eating normally). This is not a big problem, not life threatening in itself, but rather just very uncomfortable. Tim took a swig of root beer to wash down the chicken but it didn't wash down. All that happened was that the root beer went down the (insert fancy word that means tube to stomach and which sounds like orsoffagus) and began to fill up the remaining unblocked section until it overflowed down the windpipe.

Yes, folks, you've got the picture. Tim was effectively drowning in root beer in a Popeyes in New Orleans while on visit to attend a conference that he wasn't being let into. What a wonderful way to die. Despite what people say, drowning is not that pleasant. (Actually, it should be noted here that drowning in water might be somewhat better than drowning in root beer, given that there's less fizz.) The first thing that happens when you start to drown is that you panic - you realise that you are going to die. While his life didn't exactly flash before his life, Tim did get an image of a less than flattering obituary - "Lived a fruitful life. Drowned in root beer - Popeyes Chicken and Biscuits, Canal Road, New Orleans December 1998". How hideously embarrassing. Did he have enough time to run out side and get run over by a bus instead?

As it happened, Tim decided that he would fight for his life instead so he ran outside of the restaurant and sort of threw up. Embarrassing yes, but not actually life threatening.

After his near brush with death, he went back to the conference to find that he still didn't have a security clearance. "Perhaps it would be through by tomorrow, how about you just have a bit of a vacation!"

Tim spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the French Quarter - looking at Bourbon Street in the light - and wishing fervently that he had brought some lighter shoes. Julia had come back from New Orleans the day before Tim flew down and she had said that it was very warm in New Orleans and that Tim should take some shorts. Because it was late fall, Tim had efficiently packed away all of the summer stuff but he did manage to dig out a pair of shorts. He didn't get out any light shoes though so he was walking around in 84 degrees F (26 degrees celsius) in heavy winter boots. This problem continued throughout the week as the record high temperatures were broken every day. Tim got around it by doing his Swedish backpacker impression (wearing shorts and heavt hiking boots is a very good Swedish backpacker look).

Once back at the hotel, Tim got in contact with Glenn and Vicky Doherty, who were in town for another conference but were staying at the same hotel. Tim has a suspicion that Kajsa organised this so that there would be people around to ensure that Tim didn't get up to anything he shouldn't have. Anyway, in the evening they went out for a wander, ate at a cajun restaurant (Tim had turtle soup and very spicy alligator), wandered up and down Bourbon Street drinking daiquiris and visited Preservation Hall for some old-style jazz. By this time we were all a little knackered so it was bed-time.

Fortunately, the next day the security clearances came through so Tim could attend the conference. He did the rounds of the exhibitors and picked up heaps of goodies. In the evening they went to dinner at a place called the Gumbo Kitchen or some such. It was a good meal but there was a bitter argument with the manager at the end about their tax-exempt status. This may sound a bit like a whinge so you may want to skip the next couple of paragraphs.

Australia does not yet have a sales tax (GST). The whole amount of tax that we are subjected to comes directly from our income. Americans do have a sales tax and hence they pay a lot less in income tax. If we are required to pay sales tax, then we are being taxed twice. For this reason, there is an agreement under the Geneva Diplomatic Convention that diplomatic staff are not subject to taxation in the countries to which they are posted. (People on exchange get a different set of allowances that make up for the sales tax issue.) We have been issued cards that entitle us to tax exempt status. They work fine in Washington and New York but there are some places where we have to argue to get people to recognise them. This restaurant was one of those. At first the waiter said that they weren't in the scheme. They meant that the restaurant wasn't in the Tax Free for Tourists scheme. Tim pointed out that they weren't tourists but rather diplomats (a fine line but our cards state that the tax-exemption is on diplomatic grounds). The waiter then said, Oh we don't do that in Louisiana. Tim and Glenn called for the manager. The manager came over and said it was fine. Tim gave them his card and they took the bill away to recalculate.

At about this time, Vicky decided that she was too tired and she was going to go back to the hotel. Glenn would take her home and he would meet up with Tim at 9pm. They left. The waiter came back with the bill. The tax had been reduced but there was still some there. "Oi, what's this?" - Only you are tax-exempt, the waiter said. "But we are all the same", Tim responded. - We would have to see their cards. "But I am paying. I am tax exempt, which means you cannot tax me - no matter what I buy or who I buy it for!" - Sorry, sir, we'd have to see their cards.

Tim screamed blue murder and demanded to see the manager. The totally unimpressed manager came over and confirmed that the bill had been written up exactly as he had instructed and he wasn't changing his mind. Tim was furious. He deducted the tax they were forcing him to pay from the tip, halved the amount remaining (assuming a notional tip of 15% of the bill) and wrote a note stating that if the manager had ever grown a brain, the tip would have been bigger. He then stormed out (discreetly and diplomatically).

Tim and Glenn met up again at the start of a walking ghost tour (the tourers walk not the ghosts, the ghosts apparently sort of float around). The tour was quite informative and included a fair amount of history of the place, in addition to a few ghost stories. It seems that New Orleans has a very violent history. One interesting fact was that the city was initially established by the French who set it up on top of a native trading post. After a few years, the French realised that they had done a really stupid thing. The place where they had built was on a swamp. There were man eating alligators everywhere as well as swarms of mosquitoes that were in such numbers that they could kill an unprotected child or dog (hence leading to vampire stories). Every now and then, there would be some heavy rain further inland and the river would rise and wash everything away. So they did the only sensible thing they could do, they sold the city to the Spanish. The French Quarter is actually, with the exception of three buildings, entirely Spanish architecture.

After the tour, Glenn and Tim had their big boys night out without Vicky. In the interests of maintaining this as a site that can be read by families, suffice it to say that Tim was severely led astray by Glenn. How was he supposed to know that there would be naked ladies in Rick's Cabaret? He was so embarrassed that it was about an hour or so before he was able to walk steadily enough to leave the place.

The next evening was relatively early, Glenn and Vicky took Tim to Snug Harbor, a restaurant and jazz bar. There was a Bone Jazz group which consisted of a trombone player, a tuba player and a guy on drums. It was very odd to have no string instrument but it was good music anyway.

It was good that Tim and the Dohertys had an early night. The next day was big. Tim went to the last sessions of the Defense Manufacturing Conference and then used a free ticket given to him by Glenn to visit the Boat Show (the event that he was attending). The pass only permitted access to the exhibitors hall but that was enough. The show was absolutely huge with everything from rescue boats to seaweed inhibiting paint. While wandering around, Tim picked up some more goodies (mostly toy like things to give to the kids). After a couple of hours his feet hurt so he headed back to the hotel to offload the loot and rest for a while.

In the evening, the Boat Show put on some jazz for an hour with a free bar so Tim met up with Glenn and Vicky there. After the jazz, they headed off to a hospitality suite hosted by a group of contractors who have something to do with the generators fitted in the ships the RAN bought from the USN (not the sitting ducks, the rust buckets). They stayed there for a while eating some excellent finger food before they went of to New Orleans' only Aussie Pub (Vic's Kangaroo Café). Tim had popped his head into the place earlier in the day and asked if there were some real Aussies around and the woman behind the bar said yes, he wasn't there at that time but the owner was Australian. When they arrived in the evening they got the royal treatment. They got free food and, after the first round, the owner (Vic) came down and chatted to them and told the bar staff that drinks were on the house. Woohoo!

Unfortunately, Vicky's work was holding a Christmas Party the next day (with $80 to $100 bottles of wine laid on) and they were flying back to Washington early in the morning to prepare themselves. Therefore, they didn't want to stay. They stayed, after some pleading from Tim ("Drinks are on the house and you want to go home?!?!"), for one more round and then Vic gave them a ride to the hotel. On the way to his room, Tim found out that there was a huge 20th anniversary party happening at one of the more famous bars on Bourbon Street (Pat O'Briens from his vague memory) with 50c drinks all night. This could not be missed. He went back out and checked out the town. Bourbon Street was one huge party. It was quite amazing how many people were there. Tim spent the rest of the evening going from bar to bar, meeting people until he thought that it was time to call it a night and go back to the revolving bed. This time, due to the absence of Glenn, Tim was not forced to visit any of those girlie bars.

The next day, Tim was a little worse for wear but he managed to get himself to the airport in time. He slept most of the way on the flight home.

While Tim was working hard in New Orleans, Kajsa was working hard back at home. In fact she can't remember doing much else. There was one highlight for the week, she was installed as Vice-President of the Swedish School. You will probably understand what that means. That's right, Kajsa is now only one heartbeat away from being President because if anything ever happens to the President ...

Everyone here in the US knows what the toy of the season was (and still is). This season's version of the Tickle-Me-Elmo doll that people were killing each other for a few years ago. The one that every kid must have. The one that sells out minutes after the shops selling them open. The one that is being sold for $100 or more on the internet (retailing at ~$30). Apparently Australia has not been exposed to the same level of hype as the US so we may have to explain what a Furby is. A Furby is a doll like thing that looks sort of like Gizmo from Gremlins (the one that started everything) – so much so that there is talk that Spielberg is suing for breach of copyright. That will certainly push the value of Furbies through the roof! Anyway, when you first turn a Furby on it talks to you but it can only speak in Furbish, eventually though, it starts to learn to speak English, if the kid plays with it enough. It also does some tricks, like dancing and singing. Basically it seems to be like a Tamagotchi but from what we can tell it doesn't actually die. So it is sort of like a Super-Tamagotchi.

These Furbies started getting hyped on TV and radio in November. Then there were newspaper and magazine reports of people going crazy over them, then there were people going crazy over them and then that got reported on TV and radio and then the fact that it had been reported on TV and radio got reported in the newspapers and people started getting really crazy over Furbies. Kajsa's work has a toy section. They don't have a huge range of stuff (compared to a place like Toys R Us) but they did receive a couple of shipments of Furbies. That was a mistake.

For much of November and most of December the most common question asked by people coming into the store or ringing to the switch was "Do you have Furbies?" Kajsa's work colleagues were getting very tired of it. One day, when they had a shipment of Furbies in, there was a huge queue out the front of the store with people getting there at 5am even though it was getting on for winter and the store only opens at 9am. One of the store managers came out to say that there were only 20 available so the people at the end of the queue may as well go home. No effect. They eventually had to call the police to make sure that there wasn't a riot.

This is just onother of those crazy things in the States. When we talked about it later, we decided that the oddest thing about it was that we couldn't even see what all the fuss is about. From what we had seen of them, a Furby would be cute for about five minutes after which you'd spend the rest of your time with it telling it to shut up. Yes, it is dark, shut up. Yes, there is a bright light, Shut Up! Yes, there was a loud noise, that loud noise was me telling you to SHUT UP!!!!! You're hungry, how about this for hungry, take this you stupid bloody Furby bastard, shut up, shut up, shutup, shuttupshuttup, shutup! SHUT UP!!!!

There is already a website dedicated to a Furby autopsy (beware this is gory with graphic photos of Furby gizzards) and one on how to hack a Furby (not so gory but may not be approved by the Frequency Spectrum Management people).

The first weekend of December was exceedingly busy. After watching Sophie's Choice on Friday night with Steve and Fran (Steve fell asleep during the most important part and rest of us had to watch it twice for his benefit), we had Swedish School in the morning. Then in the early morning we went to a farewell for HADS (Head of Australian Defence Staff). We met up with Karen and Andy Mierisch at the party and Kajsa and Karen (who had not met before) got on like a house on fire.

We couldn't stay for too long though because we had to get to Dulles Airport to pick up Meike (who was coming in to be our new au pair). We could have stayed a little longer because the plane was delayed and the Dulles customs people are hopeless when compared to those at Baltimore Washington International. We stood around for a long time checking everybody's luggage tags and wishing that some Lufthansa tags would start appearing. Eventually Meike came through.

There was a bit of a concern that we wouldn't be able to recognise her as we had only seen a few photos of her that had been photocopied then faxed. Fortunately she recognised the kids from photos that we had sent her so we were able meet up without too much trouble. Amusingly enough, Meike had bought herself a nice warm jacket just before she came over because it had been so cold in Germany. That was not a problem in Northern Virginia that day - we were still enjoying autumn weather that was in the mid 20s.

That evening we abandonned Meike and Julia and went to Tony and Shosh's house for the Casboult's farewell (we had to pick up the guests of honour on the way through). It was a good party but we started to fade early and did the American thing and left straight after the speeches. Actually, that is not entirely true. We got our first ever tour around the house - and then we scarpered!

Part of the reason we wanted to get away in good time was that we were holding a farewell of our own the next day - Julia's. It was also Meike's welcome and a little bit of a Christmas party all rolled into one. There were quite a few people there with Julia's au pair friends as well as some of the younger crowd that we know. We had some glögg and some other bits and pieces and partied into the night.

On Monday Steve and Fran continued their trip, they were on their way to stay with Steve's sister up in Connecticut(?) The plan was to stop in New York for a couple of days and then catch a train or bus to Connecticut - what fun that would be with a little boy who has just learned to walk! Oh and by the way, Fran announced that she was pregnant again - due in mid 1999.

Both Tim and Kajsa had busy days at work and busy nights at home for the next couple of weeks. Christmas is taken very seriously here, at least in a financial sense. The shops are open longer and there is a slew of sales. This meant changed and longer hours for Kajsa. The sales also meant that she had more sales tags to fold when she got home. Tim spent his time putting the finishing touches on the Christmas Card, folding them, putting them in envelopes, addressing them and mailing them. Not a minor endeavour given that usually Kajsa is able to give a hand to the process. At least this year they weren't individually coloured - give praise for colour printers!

On Friday both Tim and Kajsa were seconded to Kalle's class at Town and Country for "Christmas Around the World". We were required to give a half hour spiel on what happens in Australia and Sweden for Christmas three times in a row. We cheated a little, Kajsa concentrated on Lucia and Tim spoke far more about animals than he did about Christmas. (What should he tell them? We go down to Bondi Beach in huge crowds, get drunk and fight with the police - not the best impression to give kids about Australia!) Once we were finished there, we sped off to the Office Christmas Party.

This annual Naval Attaché's party started with the usual champagne in the office (supplied by the Commodore) and then progressed to the Embassy Suite at the hotel across the road. We had a huge room to ourselves and all sat together around a large table. It was very civilised (at least for the first part of the lunch). Towards the end, the Commodore put on a Santa hat and gave out some prizes. Kajsa got a really nice Christmas broach and Tim got a pair of Christmas boxers which he had to put on straight away (over his trousers, mind you). By the time we were finished with lunch, it was time for Christmas Prayers.

The plan was for us to go to Prayers, meet up with Hans and Petra and then go somewhere to meet up with Duncan and Cecilia. Unfortunately both Hans and Duncan chose that night to come down with the stomach flu that had been going around. In some ways this was fortunate because by 9pm, when Prayers had finished both of us were dead on our feet having been on the go since 9 that morning so we were glad that we could just head on home. Naturally we had something on the next morning as well.

Kalle was scheduled to sing at the Swedish School Lucia parade on Saturday morning so there was no school for either Kalle or Tim. The ceremony was very well done and many commented on just how well the children sang (actually they were better than some groups of Swedes even though Swedish was not the first language for many of the children). There was also a little recognition of all the people who have put a lot of effort into the various classes of Swedish School and this year Kajsa was recognised for her efforts holding the Preschool in the basement. She got an enormous ponsettia - now dubbed Percy.

When we got home we went next door for Kyle's birthday party. The theme of the party was reptiles, up to and including a show given by the Reptile Lady. The kids were very impressed by the reptiles that she brought, which included a lizard, a turtle and a huge Burmese python (which was about three metres long). Kajsa was there a short while before she headed off to work.

In the evening, Tim and Meike took the kids to the Mormon Temple. The Mormons, bless their little cotton socks, put on a show every Christmas, consisting of thousands and thousands of lights in the trees around the visitors centre, a live Nativity Scene and many decorated trees and normal nativity scenes inside the visitor's centre. The kids were amazed. They loved the lights and were vaguely interested in the nativity scenes from around the world. When tim, Meike and the kids went into the visitor's centre they were assigned a young girl with a charming smile whose job it was to get visitors to give them their phone number and address so they could pop over some time to chat and leave a copy of the Book of Mormon.

Tim mentioned to the girl that she had to talk slowly because Meike had only just arrived from Germany and that seemed to spark great interest because the girl (Sister Melody or something like that) spent the rest of the time talking to Meike while Tim with the job of telling the kids to come back, put that down and don't touch that.

Meike made the mistake of giving them our address and telephone number. She didn't realise that they wouldn't just send her a copy of the Book of Mormon in German in the mail, they would deliver it by hand and would want to sit down with her and talk about it. It has been the subject of a few jokes since. Tim has taken to answering the phone with "Mormon Central" and Kajsa was making the odd comment about Mormons here and there. When the Mormon's finally turned up Kajsa answered the door and kindly claimed that there was no-one called Meike in the house. Long after the perplexed Mormons had left, Meike got home and told Kajsa that she had actually wanted the book. Kajsa felt very guilty about turning the Mormons away.

She shouldn't have.

It became obvious a few nights later that Meike had been joking. Tim answered the phone one evening and, for some reason, he chose to say "Speak to me" rather than "Mormon Central". It was Brother Pious (or something like that) from the Church of Latter Day Saints who wanted to talk to Mr Selzer. Tim stated that there was no Mr Selzer here (not a lie) and that he'd go and see if anyone in the house had spoken to "you guys" recently. When he got up to Meike and told her that the Mormons were on the phone, did she want to talk to them? Meike looked hunted and said "Tell them I'm not here". He went back down and suggested to the Brother that perhaps someone must have given them the wrong number (not a lie either, Meike should have given them a number other than ours, like perhaps Jill and David's!) Hopefully the Mormons don't have it all right, otherwise we are in a lot of trouble.

After they left the Temple, Tim, Meike and the kids went to check out some amazingly decorated houses in Falls Church. There is a street (Pimmit Drive) that has some houses that are really over the top. One is called Winter Wonderland and is wall to wall fairy lights. There is another that is made up to look like Santa's Workshop and comes complete with blaring Christmas carols. It must drive the neighbours mad. The kids were pretty amazed and, frankly, so were the adults.

The next evening was spent at Hans and Petras where we had a German style Christmas party. The major difference was that we had glühwein instead of glögg and glühwein doesn't have anycinnamon or as much sugar in it. Petra had also cooked up some baked apples which were very tasty. After the party we took Kajsa to see the lights on Pimmit Street. The kids were still pretty excited by all the lights and Kajsa was amazed.

Our time with Julia was quickly running out and we wanted to take Julia and Mirko out somewhere. Julia made a suggestion on Monday night that we should take the kids out but a brief reconnection to reality indicated that that this was not one of Julia's best ideas. Both Kalle and Taltarni were horribly overtired and excited from late nights on the weekend. Another late night would kill either them or us. So we took Julia and Mirko out, by ourselves, to a Lao-Thai restaurant on Route 7 in Falls Church that we had had our eye on for a while. It was very good food, very authentic (rather than being Lao-Thai style burgers, you want fries with that?). Highly recommended to those in the region.

Thursday was the sad day that we had to take Julia to the airport. Before we set off, Julia gave us some early Christmas presents including a calendar that has photos of the kids and us on it plus a letter from Julia at the back. It was a very special gift and one which we will treasure for years to come. At the airport, we visited Starbucks (one of Julia's favourite establishments) and had something to eat at Burger King. (What a nightmare!) Finally we had to wave goodbye to Julia among a lot of tears (Kajsa and Julia made up for the rest of us) and started the trip home. On the way we took Kajsa to the Mormon Temple for another look at the lights and the nativity scenes et cetera. Tim was very effective at brushing off the approaches of Sister Virginal and Brother Bean so we didn't need to give them somebody else's address (although that was a thought that had crossed Tim's mind).

On Friday, there was another Christmas bash. This time it was the Embassy Social Club Christmas Party which was followed by the Christmas edition of the Embassy Social Club Happy Hour. Tim got to go but, you guessed it, Kajsa was working. The day was also memorable for being one of the first really cold days - winter was finally starting to show up. Not that winter was late or anything because, in the US, winter doesn't start until the winter solstice. The day that in other parts of the world is called mid-winter (or midsummer in the Southern Hemisphere), is the first day of winter here. It sort of makes sense because it gets coldest in January and February and it has started to get warmer by the spring equinox when spring officially starts.

The next day was another work day for Kajsa, although she was able to organise her hours so that she could kick off the Swedish Preschool Christmas Party in the basement and still make it back in time so that she and Tim could make it to Christmas Drinks at the Tindalls' in the evening. While Kajsa worked Tim did something useful for once, he picked up the salted pork that Kajsa needed to make ham with. Usually she does the lot, salting and cooking but this year there has been so much on that it was starting to look like there was going to be no "skinka".

Fortunately there is a Swedish fishmonger (does anyone remember the name of the fishmonger's wife in Asterix? - just wondering) who, as a community service, brings in a few prepared legs of pork from New England. There was considerable stress in procuring a leg though as Kajsa only got around to calling Leif (we kid you not) at the very last moment, just before the shipment was due. Fortunately, Leif had had the presence of mind to order a couple of extra legs, just in case, and we got one of those.

As previously mentioned, we went to Christmas Drinks at Greg and Margaret Tindall's in the evening. It was very pleasant, although we spent most of the evening talking to just Glenn and Vicky Doherty (that's not to say that we don't like talking to them, just that we were a little antisocial as far as talking to others went). We got a bit better later in the evening when we met a very amusing bloke from England. If it wasn't for that fact that he was English, we would go so far as to say he was a nice guy.

Greg Tindall is most famous for being one of the aviators in the office and is responsible for reporting on helicopter stuff. He hadn't told anyone that there is a bit of brilliance in his family - almost all the paintings in their house were painted by his father (one, at least, was painted by his brother). Greg's brother is called Gary and his signature looks, according to Greg, exactly like "Greg Tindall". Tim was convinced that Greg was hiding a talent. Greg claims that he has finished with painting, he has done two and sold two. Still, the paintings by his father and brother were very good.

The next day, while Kajsa worked, Tim and Meike took the kids to the very first Lucia procession held in the National Cathedral). It was great to see Lucia in such magnificent surroundings and it was also Tim's first time in the Cathedral (and Meike's of course). Sadly the yanks who turned up did the normal yank thing. They all crowded up the front, totally obscuring the view of all the others who sat in the pews (mostly Swedes but there were a few American host parents of Swedish au pairs also).

After that was over, they wandered around to look at what was going on. The Lucia procession was but one part of a special Family Sunday and there were quite a few things going on. The bit that most amazed the kids was the magician/illusionist/story teller. There was a guy dressed up as a medieval itinerant story teller who used illusions to tell his stories about Robin Hood and so forth. Kalle and Taltarni sat there enthralled for about twenty minutes. After that they all walked through the crypt after which they went up to the seventh floor of the tower. The bit that most amazed the adults was that this magnificent piece of architecture had something as tacky as lifts in the tower. Still, this is America, you couldn't expect people to walk up that many flights of stairs.

It has been mentioned previously (actually in the previous month's chapter) that we have put lights up outside the house. Although they had been out for three weeks by this time, Kalle and Taltarni had not tired of the excitement of going out the front and checking them out. It helped that Tim had made a kangaroo form out of coat hangers (from a blank provided by Scott Irons). Anyway, Kalle was not content to just look at them. He really got into the Christmas spirit and insisted on putting on a little carol singing show each evening. It was very, very cute.

The songs, which were admittedly a little repetitive, were all originals, covering a range of topics including the receipt of presents "Santa's coming, yeah, with presents in his sack", snow lying on the ground, the flashing of lights and the ringing of bells. Every song was accompanied by lots of hip gyration - Kalle would have certainly put Elvis to shame.

Kalle was totally convinced that winter had not arrived yet, that winter would only arrive when it snowed and that Santa only came when it snowed. Kajsa tried to disabuse him of this notion but he was having none of it. In his own little world, Kalle firmly believed that when there is snow on the ground, the bells are ringing and the lights are flashing, Santa is on his way with presents in his sack. We began to wonder whether we should buy a bell.

Kajsa is getting old. Even Kajsa admits that. Tim is more likely to admit it. (At least is he is far more likely to admit that Kajsa is getting old.) Still, there are some things that come as a shock. Such as when you are mistaken for your mother. That's bad. Imagine how bad it would be if your son couldn't identify your father-in-law and thought that it was you? Believe it or not this following exchange happened shortly after Tim downloaded a photo of his father from the internet. He was displaying it on the computer screen.

"Who's that, Kalle?"

- I don't know, can you tell me?

"I'll give you a hint. You're related to that person."

- Is it mamma?

Admittedly there is a very vague chance that he meant to say mormor. Unlikely, but possible.

Tim had been getting increasingly worried about his inability to swallow reliably. So worried that he took the unusual step of going to a doctor to get it checked out. As a result, on the Tuesday before Christmas he was booked in for a barium swallow.

Please note that a barium swallow is not another way of describing a barium meal and it is not the other barium thing either (if you don't know, don't ask).

Basically the procedure is not that complex, you go to a radiology suite, get into one of those special backless gowns (a real slinky number) and drink something that tastes only marginally better than a warm McDonalds shake. They take photos of you and then tell you what your throat looks like.

The stuff that they make you drink is barium, a heavy metal. The stuff that they make you drink (or eat or that they pump into you) has the added attractive feature of being radioactive. To complete the picture, the barium shake is mixed up into a sort of slurry with lukewarm water. Yum yum, yum yum yum.

When they are preparing you for the procedure, they tell you that the barium will be the worst tasting thing that you will have ever had to consume (they obviously haven't tried tripe). At first Tim didn't agree with their prediction (having been forced to eat tripe at a delicate age). When you gulp it, the taste of barium slurry is not that bad, at least not much worse than the taste of mud and we've all eaten at some time ... haven't we? However, you don't just gulp the barium. Towards the end of the procedure they make you sip it slowly through a straw. Then, and only then, do you get to experience the full horror of the taste that is a barium shake. Ugh!

Eventually the whole horrible experience was almost over. Tim got sent to sit in a little cubicle while the x-ray plates were developed. He was feeling about two kilos heavier with something like mercury sloshed around in his stomach.

The plates were actually completed reasonably quickly so there were no complaints there - other than the surgery was really cold. Those little gowns are not the best things to wear when sitting in a drafty area. When the plates were done the radiologist called Tim in to check them out and gave a preliminary diagnosis. It seems that the problem is that he has what are like ulcers in his throat.

The effect of these ulcers is that, sometimes, when a piece of food passes by an ulcerated region, the walls of the throat constrict and block the passage - leading to a feeling somewhat like being throttled from the inside.

(Does anyone remember the scene from Star Wars when Lord Vader is having a little spat with some Imperial Hobnob about not having intercepted the plans for the Death Star? The Hobnob makes some derogatory comment about the Force and Darth Vader says "Do not underestimate the power of the Force!" About this time the Hobnob clutches at his throat and makes peep peep noises as his throat is constricted from within. Tim goes through that scenario quite often, particularly when eating apples.)

For the rest of that day, Tim had the weirdest feeling in his guts as the barium made its way through his system. The weird feeling was basically due to the weight of the barium mixture which got more and more compact as it progressed through (the water in it gets absorbed but barium does not get absorbed).

For a long time, Kajsa had been putting off using her birthday present from the kids. She had been given a massage and it was becoming more and more necessary for her to get one. So, later that same day, both of us got an hour and a half sauna/massage package.

It was great. They were, though, the most painful massages we have ever had because like idiots we both said when asked "Deep tissue, yeah that sounds good, yep we like hard, strong massage." We came out we feeling as if we had been run over by steamrollers. A couple of days later we were feeling good but oh, that afternoon, it was like we were bruised.

In the US, Christmas basically starts after Thanksgiving. That means among other things, Christmas trees appear in the nurseries at the beginning of November. We had been able to put off tree buying for as long as possible but Kalle would be denied no longer. That evening we went to the nursery near Kalle's school to look for the tree that would grace our formal sitting room. Kajsa (she who must make everything difficult) upped the stakes immediately by saying "While we are in America we must have a 'gran'!"

A "gran" is Norwegian spruce, the traditional Christmas tree in Sweden. When at Vevelsund it is easy to get a good tree. They grow in vast numbers in the back blocks of the farm. Each year either Hasse or Uffe jumps in the four wheel drive with the kids and they chop down a likely looking tree and drag it home. It's not quite so easy in Northern Virginia. There were precisely two Norwegian spruces on the lot. One that was about the size of the car (the wagon) and another that looked like someone had come along and ripped of two thirds of its limbs and then jumped on what remained.

It was evening when we went and it was very cold, a bit below freezing. This is really romantic sounding when it comes to thinking about Christmas but the reality is somewhat less so when you are wandering around in a lot trying to find that perfect Christmas tree. We we went from tree to tree, checking each one out very carefully. We stood at each while Kajsa made a pronouncement about the relative attractiveness of the tree, the shape and how closely it matched the architypal Christmas tree. Tim for the most part said little more than "Um", Taltarni said "Tree!?" and Kalle spent the whole time singing "We're going to get a Christmas tree!" For a while it looked like Kalle was being overly optimistic.

Eventually, Kajsa gave up on finding the perfect tree and said "Kalle, you chose one." Kalle pointed to the tree he was closest to at the time and said "This one!" It was a fine choice, not in the least because it meant that we could start getting back in the car. We took the tree home, stood it up in the sitting room and retired to bed.

The next day, the one before Christmas Eve was the first of our very cold days for the season. It was rather cold in the morning, not that Tim would know given that he slept (he was on leave by this time). Kajsa and the kids got up and had decorated the Christmas tree before he arose - after the final touch (the stringing of the lights) was completed, we had a very impressive tree. Most of the rest of the day was dedicated to two major tasks, cleaning the house in anticipation of the Christmas Eve party and baking the Christmas ham.

Tim did manage to get out for a while when Kajsa cooked the ham. He decided to take Tasha and the kids to the local lake to see if it had started to freeze. It had got down to -7C or so the night before so he thought that there was a chance. Unfortunately it wasn't frozen so the big expedition turned into little more than a very boring walk for Kalle and Taltarni. Tasha was disappointed that she didn't get to run around.

Taltarni has becoming quite the little Miss. Little Miss Tantrum that is. If you ever do anything nasty to her, like deny her her slightest whim, she looks at you with eyes that start to brim with tears, she quivers her lip and then she bawls. Alternatively she'll throw herself on the ground and sook. And when Taltarni sooks, she's in there for the long haul. During Julia's farewell party, Taltarni got told off for grabbing handfuls of chips straight after being told not to. She spent the next half an hour lying motionless on the ground in protest.

The most effective way for her parents to deal with this sort of tantrum is to just keep an eye on her and try not to trip over her prostrate body. If she has a more noisy tantrum (screaming included) the best thing to do is pick her up, put her in the laundry and wait for it all to be over. In both cases, when she is finished she goes back to normal, happy as Larry until the next tantrum. We're hoping that this is a temporary affliction, associated with being two, and not a permanent one, associated with being a very stubborn and volatile Wevel.

Unfortunately, these methods of dealing with tantrums are not as effective outside the house. Especially when you are going for a walk and the temperature is below minus 5C. You see, Taltarni is happy to walk when she feels like walking. If she doesn't feel like walking then she doesn't walk. When Kalle used to try this trick it was easily solved. We'd just say "Okay, bye Kalle, have fun with your new parents." Kalle would see us walking away and change his mind about not walking very quickly. This doesn't work with Taltarni, partly because of Kalle. He is the one who panics when we tell Taltarni that we will leave her behind. "No, you can't leave Taltarni, then I won't have a sister. You can't leave my sister, you have to go back and get her!"

He's got the idea now that we won't actually leave her behind, but so has Taltarni. That made the walk back from the lake a very drawn out affair. She didn't want to go home. At first she just drew away from Tim and refused to hold his hand as he walked back up the road. Then she sort of realised that she would have to go home and decided that if that was the case, she would go home only on her own terms. She would have to be carried. When simultaneously trying to deal with Tasha on the leash, carrying a wriggly two year old becomes quite hard quite quickly. So, Tim said that horrible word: "No." With that, Taltarni threw herself on the ground. A passive tantrum warning was in effect.

Righto, thought Tim. We'll do the pretend to leave her behind thing. He grabbed Kalle and Tasha and walked up the road a short way and ducked behind a rather large bush where Taltarni couldn't see them. Sadly, this was not the first time that this trick had been tried on her. In fact it had been necessary to do the same thing on the way to the lake. When we had done it before, Taltarni got the idea that she was being left behind and ran to catch up with the rest.

Despite all appearances, Taltarni is bright. And, again contrary to all evidence, she has a good memory. She recognised that we were trying to play the same trick again. So, rather than run to catch up with us, she got up, walked perpendicularly away from us until she could see us and then threw herself on the ground again. As mentioned before, it was not the best weather to do this at below minus 5C. When it is that cold, if you don't move around you start to lose body heat quickly.

Okay, thought Tim, we'll just up the ante. He dragged Tasha and Kalle from out behind the bush and kept walking up the road another 20 metres or so. Then, at the crossroads, they hid behind another big bush. Taltarni, again rather than running after them, did the same trick and just walked to where she could see them. Only this time, Tim could see that she had somehow lost her mitten.

Bugger. Tim knew he'd be in big trouble if he allowed her to let her fingers get too cold. But he couldn't let her win (which would have validated tantrum throwing as a negotiating tool). So he gave Tasha to Kalle with an instruction to "Stay here!" and stomped down to Taltarni. When he got there, he put the mitten back on and stomped back to where Kalle was hanging on to Tasha. They pretended to walk away again (around the corner).

When Tim tried to see if Taltarni was coming to her senses, he was appalled to see that Taltarni had taken off her hat (note that you lose heat most quickly from your head) and was in the process of taking off her boots. Bugger, bugger, bugger. She had realised that if she disrobed, her pappa would have to come back and get her. So smart, so very, very stupid.

Again Tim got Kalle to hold on to Tasha while he stomped back down to Taltarni. He put her clothes back on and picked her up by her mid-section (like a rather badly behaved sack of potatoes) and carried her all the way home that way. Actually it was a much easier way to carry her than if he had held her nicely when you remember that he had to have Tasha on the leash as well. It had the effect of moving her into the active tantrum state, very loud bawling. Score: Taltarni - nil, pappa - nil.

In the afternoon, Tim and Kalle left Taltarni with Meike (Kajsa headed off to work). They went into the Embassy ostensibly to get the mail but in reality they were hoping to get Kalle and Taltarni's Christmas present to Kajsa (a mobile phone). The first stop was to get gas (petrol) and while they were pumping, it started to snow. Not very much but a little bit. Kalle's face lit up and he said "It's snowing, it must be winter!"

Although there was very little snow in the first fall, that small amount seemed enough to bring out the worst of the Washington drivers and the drive into DC was scary. The drive into to DC was also in vain because the phone had not arrived in time. The drive back out of DC was also scary, more so because by this time the snow was coming down a little more seriously - that is it was starting to accumulate. That meant that many of the people who were working that day decided that it was all too much and left work early. That in turn meant that Route 66 (the quick way home) was jam packed with panicking Washingtonians. Tim decided to use the back way home via McLean. For "back way", read "little roads". Oh that was fun too!

While in McLean, he made a quick stop at Safeway and stocked up on eggnog and convenience "firewood" (just open the packet and set it alight - it's not quite wood, it's a mixture of wax and sawdust). By the time Tim and Kalle came out (fighting past all the people who came in to do some panic buying of toilet paper, bread and milk - the standard thing to buy when it snows), Route 123 was chockablock. Given that the snow was starting to come down a more heavily now, Tim decided not to take any major shortcuts - well, just one.

Those who have visited us in the US will attest to the fact that where we live is almost semi-rural. Driving to our place the back way via Old Dominion Drive gives you the impression that our house is right out in the sticks. Using Old Dominion in a "snow emergency" is not a major problem when it snows because, even though it is narrow and hilly and winding, it is highly trafficked and there is no chance for the snow to build up on it.

The roads between Old Dominion and Vernon Drive are another question entirely. Tim is not the most experienced driver when it comes to driving on snow. He's done it but that's not to say he likes it. Also, most of the time when he has driven in snow it has been with a car with chains (in Australia in the mountains) or with winter tyres (in Sweden). The one time in Sweden when he had to drive without chains or winter tyres, at least he was in a Volvo that had a manual transmission. On this day Tim and Kalle were in Rusty, an automatic.

Here's a piece of advice for you. Don't drive along country roads when it is snowing and there is no salt on the road and you are in an automatic with standard tyres. It is very scary and very tiring. Poor Rusty was sliding all over the place, which Kalle thought was fun. That, for the most, part led Tim to spend his time split evenly between concentrating very carefully on not crashing the car and telling Kalle to shut up. Still, all's well that ends well. They got back to the house without any accidents.

When Tim's legs no longer felt like jelly, he took the kids out to play in what snow had accumulated. Basically the amount of snow on the ground was minuscule, less than you find on Australian snow fields but we were able to use the snow that had accumulated on a neighbour's car to make snow balls and spent half an hour throwing them at each other.

When Kajsa came home, after midnight, she had a surprise for Tim. No she hadn't crashed Baldrick. She had got Tim a special Christmas present. Can anyone guess what?

That's right - a Furby. We rolled around laughing for a while with the irony of it. Of all the people in the US, Tim must have been about the only one who really did not want a Furby. Many, many people desperately wanted one yet could not get one (and/or were willing to pay $100 for one). So, Tim gets a Furby for Christmas. Kajsa had won the opportunity to buy one from Kohls when her name was pulled out of a hat. The first thing he did was hide the Furby in a drawer with a promise not to bring it out until after Christmas (so the kids could concentrate on their gifts).

We had some special plans for celebrating Christmas when it finally came. On Christmas Eve, Petra and Hans, their kids, Hans' mother and their house guests and their kids came over to our house for a Swedish Christmas. Basically that entails a smörgåsbord, lots of glögg and a visit by Jultomten (Swedish Santa) followed by an orgy of julklapp (Christmas present) opening.

Organising a Santa that no-one would recognise was a bit of a challenge but Petra managed to arrange one who was musically inclined and could sing some Christmas carols. Due to a bit of a purchasing error Santa was clean shaven (Tim came home from a last minute shopping effort with the suit but no wiskers the night before). Luckily the kids didn't question his beardless appearance, at least not at the time. Kalle made comment about the Santa not being the real Santa because he didn't have a beard - therefore, ispo facto, he must have been one of Santa's helpers. It is amazing how the mind of a child works.

In between the visit by Santa and the start of the smörgåsbord, Hans and his friend from Canada spent the whole time wandering around the house complaining about how cold it was. In America houses are continually fighting against the climate. If it is hot outside, it is arctic-like inside. If it is cold, houses are roasting. We don't quite buy into that. If it is cold outside, we wear a jumper and it is a little colder inside. Not the right way to have it, according to Hans and Raymond. In their enthusiasm, they did the unthinkable.

They not only fiddled with the thermostat controls, they even went into the holy shrine, that inner sanctum of a man's castle, the Furnace Room, and fiddled with the furnace. Not that they were able to get the house any warmer. (This was due to a cunning plan enacted by Tim. If you never clean the filter, it eventually gets so clogged that the weathermaker is incapable of cooling in winter or heating in summer. He cleaned the filter as soon as he worked out that that was the problem way he was maintaining perfect temperature all year around.)

After we got everyone drunk and had kicked them out, we opened all the remaining presents. Thanks to those who sent us stuff. You know who you are. To those who haven't yet, we're still waiting ...

We won't go at length about presents, because that's not what Giftmas is all about. However, there are two items that are worthy of mention. Sometime in December, Kalle told Tim that he had thought of a great present for mamma. A phone without wires. Kajsa had been talking about getting a mobile phone for a while but Tim had been very non-committal about it. When Kalle brought up the subject, Tim decided that he'd have to get one for Kajsa for Christmas from the kids.

Anyway, he ordered one through the Embassy but it didn't come in time. It wouldn't have been very nice if the kids had not given Kajsa a present that day so Kalle wrapped up a toy phone (actually a rattle in the shape of a phone) and the kids gave her a card which said that the real thing was on the way. Kajsa was very impressed.

The other present was also a huge success. With Kalle at least. Usually you can pick the Christmas presents that have been given by relatives who do not live in the house - these are the loud toys, the sort that the kids love and spend the next week playing with constantly. The ones that drive parents and make them threaten to buy something equally hideous for the benefactor the following year. So, who would it have been who gave Kalle the toy electric guitar which came with only two volume settings, those being LOUD and VERY LOUD? You'd think that it would be someone who didn't like us very much. Nope, it was Kajsa.

Still, I suppose it was marginally better than giving him a violin! (Unless after years of subjecting us to awful screeching sounds, he eventually played it as well as Rebekah, our neighbour in Canberra, does.)

On Christmas Day we went to Hans and Petra's for dinner. They had cooked up some absolutely delicious roast beef. Melt in the mouth, yum yum yum. Meike, being a vegetarian, did not partake, but that just meant that there was all the more for us. It was another pleasant evening at the Mossberg's. During the evening, Tim took the opportunity to complain loudly about how cold it was in the house and volunteered to take a look at the furnace to see if there was a problem with it. Strangely, Hans was not keen for Tim to go have a look at it.

The days after Christmas were quiet with Kajsa working. On the 28th Tim and Meike took the kids to the girl's house (a house down the street a little which is inhabited by a big-shot from the Department of State, her mother, her four adopted girls and their nanny) for an early New Year's celebration.

Their house is amazing, not only for its huge size, but also for the number of angels and nativity scenes they have (there must be upwards of a hundred angels and about two dozen nativity scenes - then there are about four Christmas trees so that all the decorations can be put up), they truly are serious about Christmas! It was an interesting party, with a whole new bunch of neighbours that we have never met. Nicky, the Department of State big-shot, had a big announcement as well. She is going to adopt two more children, this time twin boys, also from Central America. Quite amazing for a single mother!

Tim was very impressed to discover that Nicky is a science fiction fan. Actually, this was only the second American house that he has been in that has books in sight. At least two houses that we have been in certainly have no books at all - we've sort of looked for them and they aren't there. For us that is strange, we think that you can tell something about a person by his or her library. You can also tell something about them by the absence of any books whatsoever. Nicky's books include a large number of science fiction novels, Tim was salivating so Nicky kindly let him borrow a pile of them.

The last event for the month was New Year's Eve. We had been invited to a party by a colleague of Scott Irons but we decided that it would not have been very thoughtful to have left Meike at home with the kids on such a special night so we just cooked up some seafood (lobster tails and crab legs), stoked the fire and had an evening to ourselves. We've certainly had worse New Year's Eve's (Tim can remember at least three that were complete disappointments, so it wasn't hard to do better than them!) Actually it was pleasant to have a New Year's Eve that comes with no expectation - we're sure that many people will be disappointed at the end of 1999. So much hype, so little follow through.

We toasted the New Year with champagne as we watched the ball drop in Times Square. Because it was on TV and we were in our own home, we were a lot warmer and we did not have the worry of carrying a bottle of champagne around all evening. Karen and Andy Mierish were up in New York in Times Square that night and, although Andy does claim that he had good boots on and hence his feet weren't too bad, he does admit that it was freezing cold. Being at home for the evening was far more civilised than being out and about with the louts! (Note that there was considerably less kissing.)

Oh, and during the month, the US House of Representative voted to impeach the President of the United States for the first time in 130 odd years (only the second time ever that a President has been impeached) and the United States and United Kingdom attacked Iraq on the eve of Ramadan. But you knew that.

Another thing that people may not be aware of, Tim was told during the month that he was an uncle by blood again. (By his Aunt, not his father, mind you.) The first child was born to Ben's ex-girlfriend (possibly mentioned before, Tim only found out in April when the little girl was more than six months old). The new child is Lysa's little boy, Matthew.