A year later....

It scarcely seems possible that this time last year I was marveling at how mild the weather was, with both Sally and Spencer out on their bicycles in just a light fleece. One knew at the time that the mildness was unrepresentative, but this February is rubbing my nose in it. We had yet another four inches of snow yesterday and are due more today and tomorrow. Earlier last week someone came along with yellow machinery to dig up the accumulated ice on the north sidewalks and road. There are one or two missed bits where you can see the ice on the pavement is a very solid three to four inches. So now I am sighing: Will this never end?

I am aware that Britain is also in the throes of a particularly cold winter as well. Some say it is all the fault of Barak Obama.*

Despite the cold, I returned home yesterday with a terrific sense of warm smugness, for yesterday, nearly two whole months before the deadline of 15 April, (a date which means nothing to you in the UK, but has every American quiver with dread as it is the day on which one’s tax must be filed), Andrew and I filed our tax returns. Every American, and resident alien (which is Andrew’s official status) must pay tax on their worldwide income. I fell off the radar many years ago in the UK, when, after taking hours to fill out these horrid, horrid forms, I repeatedly came up with the grand number of “0”. I rather thought both the IRS and I had better things to do with our time, and stopped filing. Latterly, of course, one’s personal income was so low so as to legitimately neglect the task.

Last year we discovered a service –provided by the IRS – where volunteers help you fill out and file your return for free! There are some qualifications: the service is meant for senior citizens (of which Andrew can proudly claim to be), and those on lower incomes (of which we can also – perhaps not so proudly – claim to be). But my goodness is it wonderful. We went along with a dozen bits of paperwork, and a nice lady put all the figures into her computer in the right places, and, Bob’s your uncle, we were done. In just over an hour. I can’t begin to describe the relief.

My Mother turned 80 this month, and we held a surprise party for her here. Family members number 23, and we invited another 23 friends and neighbours. She was duly surprised, and everyone had a good time. Proof that my moaning about the weather is all rubbish is this photo, which shows us all outside on 13 Feb on a balmy afternoon. These are the people, and this is the reason I am here.

*….”Hell will freeze over before a black man is elected president of the United States.”