But first, let's see the monthlies side-by-side:
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| 22 months old |
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| 23 months old |
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| 59 months old (4 years 11 months) |
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| 60 months old (5 years!) |
As you will see, the pictures are taken in two different flats. The ones on the left being on the fetching little chair from the Ramsey flat. Taking pictures on this was, of course, lots of fun for the two silly boys...
On the 7th of September, Finn had his first day of school:
Finn had been incredibly excited about this for weeks and even months before. The main problem as we got closer to the day was not getting him to go, but massaging his disappointment each day that there were more days to wait until the first day! So, when the first day did arrive, it was a very exciting day, though we were very pleased to be able to delay Finn's pushing out the door long enough to get a family picture:
... And also to get a quick video of the momentous morning:
And then the whole family tripped out to St. John's to get him into the school. We don't know who was prouder to be there - us or Finn!
It was all so quick, and all so hectic that there were no tears from any of us: Finn because he just wanted to get through that door, and us because there were no tears from Finn to catch. The bell went, he ran in, and we were left behind, to hang out at the bus stop for ten minutes before Cori and Orry were off and I was off to work. Job done! The excitement of the morning got to Orry within minutes, leaving Cori to a quiet bus ride to Ramsey full of thoughts:
The first day went well, and Finn enjoyed it. But he was a little deflated after it. He had expected school to be amazing, so it absolutely under-delivered on what Finn had been imagining. However, it was only "deflation" rather than disappointment or dislike. On the second or third day Finn expressed a preference not to go in, but it never got up to an argument or a stand. And he's yet to show any sort of reluctance to leave us at the morning drop-off. This is unlike most of the other children, some of whom were clutching to their parents into October. Finn, has taken to school like a duck to water.
This is especially surprising as the school is a Manx-language school, teaching the prescribed curriculum but through Gaelg. This means that, from the off, the children learn Manx numbers and words, and much of the activities are carried out entirely in Manx (songs and the like). However, only a couple of the children have Manx from home, and so they assume that the children start without any of the language, and so they are feeding in Manx at this stage, explaining whatever they need to in English. It is only in the second year that they leave English behind entirely. Finn has taken to this without comment whatsoever. For him, evidently, school (in the Isle of Man) is something which is done in Manx. The language element is not a novelty or a challenge, or anything at all really; it is just what goes on in school. So Finn is not at all phased by it.
He is picking up a lot of Manx, but in a way which is sometimes hard to discover. Over the first weeks he claimed that he had learnt only one word in Manx ("thie" / house), but we would often find him singing quietly to himself in Manx when playing on his own, or he soon began correcting our pronunciation of the Manx numbers ("kiare" / four, which Finn took great care to correct us to pronounce the 'i' in). It was clear that Finn was taking it all in, but without his, or our, realising it.
My office in the building next door to the school is at the back of the building at the top. If I stand up I can look out over the back of the playground of the school, looking down unobserved on the children playing. Over the first week it made for very tense watching to take a five-minute break at every play-time, to see Finn running round out there. As is typical of him, he was happily playing, organising people and shouting about, without really bonding with any particular child or other. It made me concerned over the first days, but his whole class is only 13 children large, so there isn't the need to embed with any particular group. It soon became obvious that Finn was having a good time in the playground, and school, and fitting in happily without being concerned or fearful of friendships and the like.
My confidence in his friendships and sense of place amongst the other children there was given a big boost three or so days in, when he seemed to have a torrid time in the playground. I heard his shouting and stood up to observe him holding back children from something he had created on the ground (I couldn't see what - some structure or other). Some older girls were concerned for him, but his distress only increased as they crowded round, and then was shattered by some other children running through. Finn was wailing in horror and lack of control, only to dash off to the adult on watch in the playground. I was terribly worried for him, and concerned that this would be his comfort in the school shattered. But that evening he didn't mention it, and even when I asked about it directly he seemed utterly uninterested in it, as if he'd forgotten about it or else wasn't interested in it. At this I knew that it wasn't a big deal, and that his upset in the playground wasn't an upset at the whole environment, but only at that happening within the whole environment which he was sufficiently comfortable in that it could be so smoothly erased as anything of note. That made me very happy, and it made me relax knowing that Finn was up and running in the school.
The school is opposite the arboretum, where there are mobs of ducks. These were a great attraction for Orry when he and Cori arrived early to collect him, or on the fine-weather days when they entertained themselves on the Tynwald fair field opposite the school and in the arboretum beyond after school. Even on days when Finn and I (since it's me who drops him off, before going to school next door) got to St. John's early, allowing us enough time to take the long route to school through the arboretum in order to kill some time. A lovely place to be of a quite and cool morning. And also of a more raucous Orry afternoon too!
By the second or third week of school, a Manx language playgroup had started up in the church hall next to the school of a Monday morning. With dread at the playgroup situation, Cori took Orry along and has been going ever since. "Possan Cloie" it's called, and it consists mainly of the parents and children hanging out with a selection of crafty-activities and toys on offer, before a song-session at the end. Although some are Manx-speakers speaking the language during the thing, there is no embargo on English, but for in the songs where everything is in Gaelg. Cori was, needless to say, somewhat lost on the first week! But she went away, downloaded the Manx nursery rhymes app, and went back fully armed with no end of Gaelg songs about washing your hands or jumping kangaroos.
Orry loves Possan Cloie, especially the singing. He can't get enough of it. However, you wouldn't really be able to tell this from his appearance there. He tries to never leave Cori's lap, and certainly never lets her out of sight. During the songs he will sit there in silence just staring at everyone. But then, as soon as they leave, he will be singing along in some mad mash-up of all of his favourite songs, much like this (singing "Moghrey mie, kys t'ou?" / "Good morning, how are you?"):
Peel was always somewhere which we thought of living in since we first thought of moving to the Isle of Man. This is despite coming from the opposite side of the Island. Peel is, however, a place I'd always been charmed by, and it is the closest town to St. John's (other than St. John's itself of course which is rather... small). It is also, we discovered, where most of the other parents from Finn's school live. All of which pointed us in that direction, and once we got here and started to look for houses, it was clear that it was indeed the town for us. So we looked, and saw all of four places in the town, before we were convinced by the estate agent to stretch to our place above a shop on the main shopping street, Michael Street, which is (sort of) shown in this picture taken out the newly designated "Craft Room" window at the top of the house:
You will see from this picture that "the main shopping street" in Peel is not that crowded, and that it is barely a road for driving down. Both of these are good things for us.
You should also see, if you look closely, that you can see Peel Castle poking up over the tops of the houses opposite. So it isn't the best view of Peel Castle, but at least it's still a view; something to make us feel good about life every time we open the curtains of a morning!
The view out the back window affords us a view of the warehouse-like back of the furniture store and the power plant chimney beyond, which isn't the prettiest, but the view of the hill beyond with Corrin's Folly on is lovely!
We got the keys finally on the Saturday before Finn started school, just letting ourselves into the flat to have a look around and not much more. Then came a week or two of cleaning (it had been a while since someone had lived there and even then it was lived in by "three lads" according to the landlord. So, while it was a lovely flat, the cleanliness of it left a bit to be desired!) from Cori, going in in the morning and only stopping (Orry allowing) to pick up Finn. Living in Ramsey still, this was quite the task. But, with Cori's hard work, we got there and we were soon ready to actually get in to case the joint:
The tattoo which Orry is showing off here was given to him at the Fire Station a few streets away from us, on that first time into the flat. We happened to get the keys on the day that there was a novelty fund-raiser at the Station, which was a great distraction for the boys as Cori was left to her self to get stuck into the cleaning. Finn's chief enjoyment at the Station looked much like this:
Another noteworthy thing from our first time in the flat was the gift which Finn received from the Mooinjer Veggey (the Little People; the fairies of the Isle of Man):
It transpires that the Mooinjer Veggey like Peppa Pig watches. The perfect thing to welcome Finn into his new home!
Then followed the second (much easier) stage of the move, going not from London to Ramsey, but only from Ramsey to Peel. It was, however, still an enormous five-hour job, effectively blocking Michael Street for much of the afternoon. At the end of it we then had the miserable task of trying to unpack as we lived our lives around the walls of boxes, which looked much like this:
However, it was always much easier than it ever had been before, as this place, for the first time in our lives, enough space for all of our stuff! This included storage cupboards which we could even fit a bike in(!), and the ability to have a play room, the Crafting Room and a spare room, in addition to a bedroom for us and for the two boys, and a dining room etc.
We feel almost embarrassed by the size of the place, but it is yet to be discovered whether we can actually afford it easily or not - it is higher than we had wanted to pay each month, and so we're just rather hoping that it will be ok! It would be too sad to think of Orry having to give up his bedroom and his new Thomas the Tank Engine bed:
As we prepared the flat in Peel, we were still living in Ramsey. This meant a 40 minutes commute every day for me and Finn each way (and more for Cori on the bus). I rather miss this now, looking back, as it was a lovely drive through the summery sunny morning with Finn chattering away in the back seat as we discussed this or that. We don't often get to chat like that, without others, so it as very pleasant. But it was still lovely once we got into Peel in the end, and our driving-time shrunk from 40 minutes to less than 10.
One of the things we had been concerned about with our finances was getting a leak in our car fixed. We knew about it when we got it (from Finn & Orry's granny!), but it had been assumed to be an easy fix. But a period of terrible weather across a few days left water sloshing around in the footwells in the back. The garage suggested that it would cost around £700 to fix, which we thought was miserable but unavoidable. But then Cori and Finn sorted the situation with some duct tape around the sun roof:
It has leaked once since, but not too seriously. We're willing to submit to a leak every couple of months if it means we save ourselves £700!
Moving to Peel meant that I've had to overcome my timidity at driving. Peel is a town of windy streets and having to get up on the pavement to get around parked cars in places. However, I took things slowly, preferring to park over five minute's walk away on the promenade rather than squeeze into the car park. However, it did afford a very lovely walk to and from the car at the start and end of each day:
Staying in Ramsey for a few weeks more meant that we were able to catch the lowest tide we've ever been out for there. We even got out and around the harbour walls, walking safely to inside the harbour. It was really quite amazing, and very magical at that late point in the early evening sunlight:
Being in Ramsey also gave us time to be silly in the flat, and especially Orry and Cori, who had much more time to fill with Finn and I off in St. John's each day:
And, finally for Orry's silliness, here he is with his brand new shoes:
One of Cori's jobs which she got sorted with Orry in Ramsey was Finn's new passport pictures. After five years with a two-day-old picture on his passport, he will now undergo the next five years of travel with a passport picture like this:
Not the best!
The only other thing to report for September (besides a lot of house cleaning and unpacking!) is a couple of Whole Family Day trips, to St. Maughold's Well...
(From which we returned with some holy well water to cure Cori's cough, which mysteriously developed minutes before we left the house and was cured within moments of our return).
... and also to the Wildlife Park (complete with train):
Until next time, heem shiu!
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