It turned out to be much easier to be naturalised than it is to register for school in Montgomery County (or, this is why you employ a lawyer). We spent Tuesday night at a rather grotty La Quinta, down the road from the naturalisation centre, which is in the middle of a field, but away from downtown St Albans (to the extent thatthere is a downtown St Albans ...). Wednesday morning was spent shopping - I desperately needed hiking boots, as I had discarded my 15-year-old Scarpas before leaving Israel. We also wanted to buy maple syrip in the "correct" state as per C family tradition. To S's delight, we came across a scond-hand bookshop, and he bought a Marvel Comics Encyclopedia for $25 (marked down from $40); ADC bought a very different slice of Americana, a collection of Herman Melville short stories and novellas. After lunch, we went to the naturalisation centre. I took my knitting with me, fully prepared to have to wait for ages - only to find that we were the only people in the waiting room. After a few minutes, ADC was called into the inner sanctum, and shortly after that, he returned and said that the certificates were being prepared! Truly, we were in and out within half an hour - this is probably why our lawyer sent us there. We had been under the impression that there were only a few places where one could be naturalised under the process that the children were using, but apparently it is possible in every state.
It was worth travelling to Vermont, though, for the next day's hike and art festival at Saranac Lake. We started the day eating breakfast at a diner opposite the hotel - really like being in a movie, with stacks of pancakes and waitresses who called you "hon". We then climbed up a local mountain, Mt. Joe. I had a slight panic attack almost at the top, adn was very glad that I had bought boots the day before. We were back at the hotel after lunch, and went canoeing on the adjacent lake (Flower Lake, not Saranac), until it looked as if a storm was about to blow up. We showered, changed and went into town for the Art Walk we had seen advertised the previous night. We saw artists at work painting views of the town, heard live music of varying quality, and went into a games shop, where ADC and the owner went into a long discussion of games and then of the Situation in the Middle East and then of biology - the owner turned out not only to be Jewish, but an ABD in biology. He gave ADC his card and asked him to let him know if he gave a talk anywhere in New York state.
We got back from Vermont on Friday - ADC drove for 2.5 hours to Burlington airport - in time for him to rush back to Rockinghorse Center to finalise the boys' school folders. Thankfully, our invitation for Friday night supper was with the extended P family, who welcomed us in their exuberent way. No one was fussed that we arrived late, and S and A were able to let off steam. And we were invited for Rosh Hashana, too. Very lucky that this came first and our supper with SG and her husband H was the next day. SG is my cousin, but I last saw her when I was about 3, and I had no idea whatto expect when I knocked on the door. But she is a career diplomat's wife, and they put us very much at ease. A of course got on very well with her father G, who is sports-mad like all South Africans, and the two othem, aged 90-something and 13 respectively, discussed soccer happily. S retired downstairs to the TV, while we talked to SG and H.
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