Party Poppers

Some highlights from the party....

In true Extreme Make-Over Home Edition Style the builders were finishing off the decks as the guests arrived, but luckily no one left covered in splinters or paint.

So, true to my word, we did it. We remodelled an entire house and arranged a huge party with live music in a brand new country in just six weeks.

The band played on...
All feet on deck...

Ross's colleague Ken decides to save everyone from food poisoning by taking over the grill from Ross

Buffy takes a break from golf to join the party

Never offer to volunteer in the Decent household. Ross's brother Craig ended up preparing all the food with his wife Adele and the gbf. Luckily we have family in the all the right places. They are in the catering trade.

The gbf with his sbf

Our nephew Jack learns the American art of piniata bashing

Hoses at the ready - Ross blows out the candles

Orphan No. 2 reunited with her long lost parents - Abi learns how to party American style

In the end we had around 60 guests - not bad for people who have only been in the country for four months!

A huge thanks to everyone who attended and made the day so special for us.

Thanks also to Ian Carrus for his photographic talents!

Let's Get the Party Started!

Must rush..no time..quick updates....family arrived ok...one brother-in-law, check; one sister-in-law, check; one ten -year- old nephew, check; one two- year -old nephew (very cute), check; one much missed daughter on crutches due to a badly sprained ankle, check. One gbf who took longer to find his way to our house from the airport than our family did to cross the Atlantic, check.
So what's been happening so far? Now so desperately close to party time that I am having to enlist the help of almost anyone I meet. I had my new neighbour Janet put up American bunting for me on Friday - can't bring myself to tell her she has to do British bunting today. I had the whole family install a fountain in the front yard as my "boys" (wonderful local gardeners) planted flowers around it in a quick fix.
The house remodelling is going very well, thank you. Yes, that's right, going. Technically that means it still hasn't finished yet. I was dismayed to hear my gbf actually laugh at the prospect when he came in on Friday. But I, and probably I only at this point, know categorically it will be done.
Matt and his team have been working round the clock. My family is camping on the front lawn to keep out of their way. Things are manic, but brilliant, and on Sunday we should have the party to end all parties assuming we all survive!

If anyone reading this who hasn't been invited would like to come, you can contact me on hilarydecent@yahoo.co.uk for the address. Bring tranquilizers and a paintbrush.

Bedtime Story

Fortunately the furniture company did their best to allieviate the problem. Yesterday they promised to loan us some so our guests could stay in comfort.
"Don'ta worry. We willa send you somethinga wonderful. We know youra style, thees will be perfecto," said the owner of the store. (He is Chinese..no, just joking, Italian)
So it was with some delight that I awaited the arrival of the furniture van - again. Will I never learn?
I should at this point explain that our "style" is contemporary. I had originally ordered a modern dark wood bed set for one room and some charcoal nightstands (English translation: bedside tables) for the other.
The owner obviously took my rage seriously on Tuesday, because although newly retired, he turned up with an assistant to grapple with the furniture. He bravely struggled up the stairs with the pieces and proudly arranged them for me.
"Alora! Thees willa be as if you hada chosen ita yourselfa. Justa howa you like..a."


So one room now has huge walnut nightstands with grotesque marble tops. They wouldn't look out of place in Don Corleone's house - think traditional Italian, but opulent!
As for the other room, it boasts a gigantic sleigh bed, so large you can barely see out of the window.
What's more, the whole lot will be going back next week (hopefully) when our real furniture arrives. What will the good people of Cress Creek think? There is a standing joke here that some people in Naperville sometimes spend so much on their houses that they cannot afford to furnish them. They're going to think we staged the house for the party, then sent everything back. Or worse, we chose it but had it repossessed!

Hair Raiser

With Matt and his crew hard at work on the house and my new upstairs furniture scheduled for late afternoon, I decided to take a well earned break from unpacking yesterday morning and went off to see my new hairdresser Pam. Yes, I know, but I do have this party on Sunday and a girl needs to look her best. Anyhow, not surprisingly, it did not turn out to be quite as restful as I had hoped.
On the way there I had a call from the furniture company. Remember, I understood they were going to arrive late afternoon with all the upstairs furniture.
"Hallo, just wanted to let you know we'll be delivering between 12 and 3," I was informed.
Now I know this may sound silly, but being so close to the wire, the slightest alteration can have serious knock on effects. But no matter, when I got to the salon Pam assured me I could be done by 12 and Matt said he would be able to let the men in.
At around 11.30 a.m. my cell phone goes again.
"Hallo? Our delivery guys are here outside your house. Where are you?"
I couldn't bring myself to tell her that at the time my longed for beds were arriving I was swanning about in the hairdressers.
"Er, I'm a bit tied up right now," I said, my phone clamped to my right ear while Pam was washing suds out of my left. "My contractor can let you in."
"He did, but we will need you to sign. And where exactly do you want everything?"
"Just a moment, I'm in a rather important meeing. I'll have to see if I can get out....er yes.. I should be able to get there in say 15 minutes."
As soon as I put the phone down, Pam rushed through the rest of the session like a whirlwind. It's the first time I have ever had my hair done and can honestly say I don't even remember checking the results in the mirror.
I drove off at high speed trying to get my head in front of the blowers so no one would realise how ridiculous I had been in wasting time at the salon.
"Nice hair," said Matt as soon as I'd got out of the car, looking like a scarecrow. "Did you get it done locally?"
Flushed, I rushed past him to see the delivery guys lugging furniture into the house. I was relieved to discover that the hideous sofa on the sidewalk had actually been collected from another customer. Goodness knows what the good folks of Cress Creek would have thought of that!
My relief didn't last long. Turns out only half the furniture was ready and no one had bothered to tell us. The company did provide some "loaner" beds, but that still left us with some serious gaps.
My anger on Saturday when my shipment was delayed was nothing to what I felt this time. On those make-over shows they just run round with a few flowers and candles in the last five minutes. Why can't my life be like that? They don't say "oh sorry, you'll have to make do with cardboard boxes for nightstands while we wait for your delivery."
I spent the rest of the afternoon on the phone to the company while resisting the temptation to throw a brick through the store window. I appreciate on the scheme of things there are worse problems in life of course, but this has been such a huge project that it simply has to be done in time for my family's arrival from England tomorrow.
When I eventually got back into the house I found that the tiling had been finished, a wonderful tray ceiling fitted in our bedroom and best of all, three quarters of the kitchen I never thought I'd see. I could have cried. If a builder can do the impossible and remodel an entire house in just six weeks, why can't a company deliver a few sticks of furniture on time?

The Naked Truth

We finally got to spend our first night in our new home last night. I prepared a romantic candlelit dinner for two, served on paper plates because we haven't unpacked the china yet. The salads came courtesy of Dominick's (a local supermarket) because I do not have a kitchen yet. We toasted each other with a plastic or two of champagne as we have no glasses yet.
We ate on the front porch because we have no decks yet. Nothing disturbed the calm of the still evening save for the noise of the tiler pasting up tiles on the family room chimney breast and Matt struggling to put up our new mailbox in the dark.
Despite a thunderstorm we slept well. We used a guest room because we currently only have one shipped bed. Ross woke before 7 a.m. to get ready for work. He returned from the bathroom red faced, and not because the unusual colour scheme had not had time to dry. (I'll show them who is afraid of colour!)
The painters were already hard at work on the stairs and he was forced to greet them with a cheery "good morning" stark naked!

100th Entry: Just Like A Well Soiled Machine...

With only five days to go before our guests arrive from England the remodelling and move into our house needs to run like a well oiled machine. Unfortunately yesterday the oil ran dry. We got to the house before 8 a.m. It was due to be a complicated day, but so well planned nothing could go wrong. The builders were still working on the house, we had scheduled the cable guy, our new first floor furniture was going to be delivered and all our old English treasures were being taken from storage and delivered before 10.30 a.m. Easy. In fact I was confident we could even fit in a spot more shopping before the day was out.

We had one little blip before hand. It was decided that the new furniture would now be coming on Tuesday afternoon, because our new matress wouldn't be ready until then. Not sure why we changed it since our new bed won't be ready until the week after, so while our guests are sleeping in the lap of luxury, we'll be sleeping on a matress on the floor. At least it will be new, I guess.

When we arrived Matt was already there. He had actually been there since 6.30 a.m. with the carpet fitters, desperately getting the new bedroom carpets down before the beds were due to be placed on them three hours later. So far so good.

Next piece of good news. The cable guy turned up on time! Bad news. He was alone and it took him four hours to do his work. Even worse was that he had to rely on Ross to help him, so while the cable guy was in the attic locating wires, Ross had to run around the house grabbing the ends as they poked out of the walls.

At 11.15 a.m. I decided to give the removal company a call. It wasn't that I didn't think they were coming, you understand, I just wanted to make sure.

"Shipment? Today? No...we have nothing scheduled for today."

"What!!?? Do you know I have guests arriving in five days and a house to remodel? I know it's not your fault, but I need my stuff today!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but we're fully booked today. You'll need to reschedule."

"Reschedule? Are you mad? I want it as soon as possible. When can you send it?"

"Well...let me see...we're closed tomorrow....how about Wednesday?"

"Wednesday!!! But I have guests coming on Thursday. That's too late. We need a bed!"

"Let me put you on to the president of the company. One moment please."

Deep intake of breathe. Let's try to be calm.

"Hello. How can we help you?"

Calm thoughts.

"I need our shipment today and I see it doesn't seem to be scheduled," I say as lightly as I can, doesn't help to get too irate.

"Don't get angry with me madam."

Obviously not quite as light as I thought.

I'm not sure what happened next. It could have been when the steam started coming out of my ears but not sure because all that red was obscuring my vision.

Shaking, I gave Ross the phone and to cut a long story short, the delivery was promised for later that day. Don't quite know how that happened when they had no spaces in the schedule, but two hours later the van arrived and we were back on track.

As the removal men took box after box upstairs and downstairs, the cable guy was cabling, and Matt was busy scrubbing floors. Unfortunately today's painter was unexpectantly delayed (a night in jail apparently), but by nightfall our regular painter was back hard at work and the tiler was back at the chimney breast. Who needs Ty Pennington?

Nice Job If You Can Get It

Ross's colleagues at C.A. gave him an early birthday surprise by following in a time honoured tradition of trashing his desk and turning it into a real mess.



Trouble is, Ross is so messy it took him an hour to notice!

Everyone brought in food - even a home-made birthday cake.

The next entry will be the 100th, coincidentally on the day we begin moving in to our new, but as yet, far from complete home. Watch this space...

Extreme Make-Over: Our Home Edition

Welcome to Extreme Make-Over, Naperville Style.
Here we have the before....

...and after..

"You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!" (With apologies to Michael Caine in The Italian Job)

This is our beautiful new kitchen. We will be using it to host a party for half of Naperville in 11 days time!

Luckily we have our own Ty Pennington in the shape of local contractor Matt Freeman of Avaloft, who is doing an incredible job of transforming our neglected little house into something wonderful in just six weeks.

Whine and Cheese Anyone?

So what is there to do on the hottest day of the year when you have seven days to go before moving house, 11 days before guests arrive from England, and 14 days to go before a party for heaven knows how many people? Volunteer!

Unfortunately when you rely on this kind of help, you don't always get the best person for the job. So here I am, pouring tasters at the first annual Wine and Cheese Expo, designed to raise awareness and funds for the Naperville Cultural Centre.

What I know about wine could be written on the surface of a cork. It's red or white, sweet or dry. That's all you need to know. Technically it isn't even dry, it's wet, but you know how pretentious the wine industry can be.

"You are going to be the wine pourer," said Michelle, NCC founder and event organiser handing me an apron. "All the information you need is written on these sheets, just read it and answer any questions people may have."

So I man my station and look at the sheets. Is she nuts? The event starts in five minutes and there's are individual sheets on about 11 bottles of wine.

I line them up so I can read the label on the back of the bottle. I can crib this. I'll just read to the guests as they file by. They'll never know.

Ok, so I guess I should start by opening the bottles and fitting one of these measuring things. Gosh it's hot in here. And that's with air conditioning.

I'll just put the corkscrew in here and twist. This is a job I normally leave to Ross or Robin, who actually studied this stuff at university. Of course he did technically fail the wine course part, but I guess he takes after his mother on that.

I can see why I usually leave it to someone else. This is really hard. Rats. Now half the corkscrew has come off. Don't panic. Um. Perhaps I could just smash the top of the bottle? No perhaps not..

Oh, I know. Where's my cell phone?

"Hey Ross, get over here NOW," I breathe into the phone so Michelle, who is right next to me, shouldn't hear. She seems to be simultanously filling buckets with ice, handing over a variety of drinks while telling everyone all about the cultural centre. Gosh can she multi-task. I can't even open a bottle of wine.

Ross comes shooting out of the kitchen with a plate of sweaty cheese in his hands.

"What's the matter?"

"I've got the cork stuck. Stupid thing. Can't I do food and you do the wine?"

"Oh no, I'm doing this. Look, I'll get the cork out, but I'm needed in the kitchen."

Yeah right, I can hear those hand made chocolates calling him.

Ok. The bottles are open. The pourers attached. Oh, here comes a customer. I can do this.

"I hope you don't mind, but I have to ask for ID," I ask a 43-year-old woman. She giggles gleefully.

"Really?" she chirps, rummaging for her Illinois driving licence. I look at it jealously. I need to get one of those. I wonder if I could clone it under the counter?

"I haven't had to do this for years. It takes me back to my college days."

"It gets worse," I tell her. "I have to stamp your hand too."

Luckily she seems to like the golden rose on the back of her hand. Unfortunately more than the wine because she doesn't order any.

Oh good, a little lull. I might dry one of these myself. Ugh. Too dry. How can people drink this stuff?

I serve a few more guests before trying another. A little better. But not sure how it compares to the first. To improve my knowledge, for the sake of the Expo, you understand, I go back to the previous one. I have always preferred to learn things practically.

"You may detect a hint of pineapple in thish one. I couldn't myselsh, but itsh shays sho here," I helpfully point out the information on the back of the bottle to the next customer, before laughing hysterically. Can't remember why.

I now have the bottles lined up in order, from too sweet to too dry.

"Theesh is our most popular wine," I pour out a slug for an oriental gentleman.

"And what would you recommend for the lady?" he asks, indicating his wife.

"The lady?" I exclaim."How sexshist! Ladiesh can drink whatever they like."

I pour out six measures into one cup just to show him. His wife looks like she's going to faint.

"Thesh ish a fruity little shardonnel. That's the American cousin of Chardonney. SHAR-DON-NAY- esh, thatsh how you pronounce it. I should know, "I slur. "I'm an English teasher."

Thinking back I'm not sure about the logic of that, but it sounded highly professional at the time.

Take Me Out Of The Ball Game Pix

The event began with a rousing chorus of the national anthem sung by local singer and restauranteur Ken Carlson.

"Who's on first?"

Being given the finger...

The real sporting heroes .....

Take Me Out Of The Ball Game

In my never ending mission to see all sides of American culture, this weekend we attended possibly their most uncultured event - the ball game. We went along to see the minor league team, the Kane County Cougars play the Wisconsin Timber Rattlers at the Philip B Elfstrom Stadium.The weather was magnificent. It had been in the 90s all day, but fortunately began to cool off as we took our seats.
If you are expecting to read a sports report, click exit now. All I know is for almost four hours two baseball teams pitched and occasionally hit balls, mostly into the crowd. It resulted with a narrow win for the Cougars.
The only real excitement was when one player started arguing with the opposing team's manager. Patronising music to the effect of let's make up and be friends was played to diffuse the situation. Just imagine doing that at a Spurs game - they'd be riot.
What was far more interesting was the crowd. To say that there were people of all age from 8 months to 80 years may be a cliche, but not an exaggeration. They seemed to be having the most fun they could have with their families aside from the 4th of July barbecue.
Now this may be a bit controversial, but I think for the most part, the crowd was just as bored by the game as I was. Why else would music be played over loud speakers every five minutes, games held between runs, entertainers brought on and food and beer consumed throughout?
If you want to read what happened to the players, you'll have to read the press reports, but this is what happened to the crowd during the game.
It began with some nifty play by the cotton candy sellers. They deftly ran up and down the tiers flinging bags with one hand while collecting dollars with the other.
But then on the inside, came the real power players. Men balancing huge tubs of Snow Cones on their heads.
Seconds later came the left hand offensive - lemonade, swiftly followed by peanuts,
long strings of candy and occasional nachos.
Meanwhile back on the pitch, the star of the show, Myron Noodleman, was cheered on. He wasn't actually a player, but a Jerry Lewis like comedian who did silly dances and had the crowd in stitches. I can only assume they were high on beer and fizzy pop by then, because he did nothing for me.
There was also the ubiquitous mascot, of course. Some poor guy in a cougar suit, which had to be the worst job of the day in such high temperatures.
Of course being in America, no opportunity to gain advertising revenue was lost. Not only were there ads posted around the ballpark and commercials on screens, but several games sponsored by local companies.
These included an obstacle race on lawnmowers, children racing in padded VW beetle costumes and a human bowling ball.
There were also plenty of opportunities for the audience to join in with some physical activity. The Chicken Dance, YMCA and Hokey Pokey were greeted to wild enthusiasm by the crowd who stopped attempting Mexican waves to join in. They leapt up to join in a rousing chorus of the national anthem, then later followed Myron in a rendition of Take Me Out To The Ball Game.
The whole thing ended with yet another wonderful firework display and somewhat more obscurely, music from a mediocre Beatles tribute band called British Export.
Somewhere in the middle of all this frivolity I believe there was some kind of sporting activity going on, but whatever it was, it just wasn't cricket.

Rib Tickling Fun

One of the first things I ever found out about Naperville was that it was a probably not a good place to live if you were a vegetarian. The town's main claim to fame is its Ribfest, where dozens of restaurants battle it out to find out who produces the best in the country. The event, which takes place over the 4th July holiday, is great fun. I think it is best summed up in this quote I overheard on the shuttle bus on the way in:
"We're gonna get funnel cake, ice-cream, then go on a ride and throw up. It's called being an American!

Simpsons Mania

"Seems to be a new store in town..."
I met this nice lady while stopping for a donut. Wonder where she gets her hair done?

Apu gets some extra help, leaving him time to wave at customers.

With no Duff beer, Ross has to settle for this...

I wonder how many Weight-Watchers points in these?

They have some pretty strict parking rules around here.

"Hey Millhouse, wasn't it great of the publicity crew to fix the weather too.

Great Simpson clouds..."

Anyone can celebrate 4th July by going to a party, but as you may have gathered, we like to do things a little differently. So we took advantage of Ross's day off by driving eight miles out of our way to a disused Seven Eleven store. The reason? Because our son Robin (it's not a girl's name in England, honest) is a top Simpsons fan.

This in itself would be cute if he were ten or 11. He is actually 23. He must have seen every episode and even had us queue up for hours once on a visit to Hollywood, Cal. so he could meet Bart's voice, Nancy Cartwright.

I think the reason he was so pleased we were coming to live in Ilinois is because he had heard Springfield was the state capitol.

Last week he e mailed to insist we went along to the Cicero store. As a publicity stunt for the new Simpsons' movie, the makers were turning a few old Seven Elevens into Kwik E Marts until the end of the month.

It goes without saying we were the only couple without young children present. We had to queue up for 15 minutes before being allowed in. Disappointingly the cast appeared only as decals and most of the goods were, in fact, what you would find inside any Seven Eleven, although to be fair I imagine that's what the Kwik E Mart sells too.

We bought cans of Buzz cola, a bubble gum flavoured Squishee and two pink sprinkled donuts just to get these photos. Cowabunga!

Way Cooler at the Lakefront

The Fourth of July is the most important day in the American calendar. We tried not to be too offended as they celebrated their independence from us British. We joined around a million people at the lakefront in Chicago to watch a magnificent firework display. Sensibly the event is held on the day before, so neighbouring towns can hold theirs on the the 4th.

"Oy, you with the hat. You're blocking my view!"
"I said it starts at 9.30 in the evening.."

"I don't know what's in this drink, but it's burning my eyes."

Flash, bang, wallop, what a picture!

(Well, I have to give Ross credit for something..)

What happens if you go to sleep with cucumber slices over your eyes. Your head explodes!