Camping Trip the Third - Sydney Lane Park

Now, before Morpheus puts his firm hand on my lug’ole and drags it pillow-ward, a skip and a dash to tell you about our camping trip to Sydney last weekend… our FIRST official pretty-much-totally-successful camping trip! Yes, it was. No torrential downpours, no howling gales. No deafening cicadas or idiotic neighbours. No surprisingly empty gas canisters, no pieces missing from the tents. Water and amenities exactly where they said they would be, no shortages. No leeches crawling up the tent, no spiders in the bathroom. (Well actually Ian did report on what might possibly have been a tree-dwelling funnellweb in the men’s bathroom, but we’ll leave that as a mere possible). Glorious weather. We did cut short on the third day but that was simply because we were so tired out from walking about and seeing so much exciting stuff.

Once again, on the Saturday we didn’t manage to set off before 10:30 – in Australian terms, an absolutely laughably late time to be setting off on a camping trip. They generally get up and go by about 5 at least, mainly because of the distances involved, usually. Still, we made it to the site by about 12:30, which is good time. It was Lane Park camp, near Chatswood, and it was quite the most pleasant place we’ve stayed in so far. Very nice and clean, of course quite packed but what do you expect in the middle of Sydney in the middle of the summer holidays. Everyone was very nice and quiet, the kitchens and facilities were nicely laid out and clean. There was a pool too, but we never got round to using it. We arrived at (as aforementioned) 12:30, and after a VERY sweaty hour of putting up camp, we had both the main tent and the brand-new eating tent set up nicely. (I’ve got a pic somewhere, I think – will try to post). Not bad – though this still didn’t include blowing up the beds and so on but hey, it was the first time we set up the eating tent. Sandwiches and much-needed drinks followed.

Our two tents: main and eating: with the second in action (actually this was breakfast the next morning)

 

 

I think even the Littles is getting better at camping. She’s finally given up stepping all over the tent in the wrong way, waving her arms about quite as much, and has a good eye out now for the guy-ropes. She sat on the picnic rug playing with her Beanies really very nicely while we put the tents up. Becoming part of the known routine now, so she’s not so tempted to rush up and jump on us from behind just as we’re trying to hammer pegs in or tie ropes. Makes things a hell of a lot easier.

Well what with tents and lunch it was by now nearly 2:30, so we made our way in to town and chose to go to the attractions we didn’t have to pay to get into any more – namely, the Wildlife world and the Aquarium (next door to each other… we have annual passes. They are after all the biggest thing in Sydney as far as Lara is concerned).

They happened to have a rather bizarre Lego 'theme' on while we were there so there are a lot of Lego pics... Lego caveman...

 

Lego camel...

Lego shark (absolutley huge)... and quite real octopus

 

 

I believe it was damn near 7 before we were out of the aquarium – the nearly had to kick us out. Then of course there was the trip home, which all in all took a good hour, what with waiting for trains and the walk back to the campsite itself. Which in turn meant that we were warming up our pre-cooked stew at about 8:30, blowing up beds in the meantime and showering the Littles. Everyone was pretty tired.

The lateness of the meal did have one side-effect. Pretty much everyone else had long finished eating, but it was by now dark, the possums were out and we were making all sorts of enticing smells in our cooking tent. One intrepid possum (immediately named Blossom after the book) toured round and round and round the outside of the mosquito netting, climbing the adjacent tree in the hope of gaining access from above, and generally not taking no for an answer. We watched her and talked to her as she prowled around the place, trying to instil a sense of both the inappropriateness of the endeavour and its futility, but the message didn’t seem to be getting through as all she did was redouble her efforts. We did however manage to finish eating and pack up without her actually breaking in, and packed the Littles off to bed safely. She was very happy to go.

The Mr now went off for a very richly-deserved and refreshing shower (I’d been lucky and had mine earlier with the Littles, while he’d been slaving over a small stove) and I sat in the eating tent with my book. It’s a great boon, this new tent, gives us a great sitting room to be in after the Littles goes to bed without fear of being eaten by mozzies. Well there I was quietly turning pages when a little hairy sniffle comes past my legs. Blossom! She’d finally nosed her way in under the netting. Looked up when I admonished her, but showed no signs of taking fright or of retreating. Put hand in front of rubbery nose to stop her – she gave me a quick sniff and moved round further into the tent. After several more attempts finally had to take her by the armpits, turn her bodily round, the push her like a reluctant donkey back under the netting. She was really digging her haunches in, but eventually gave up and left. I’m sure it’s not an advisable thing to do and I was probably lucky not to end up with another chewed-off finger, but she just didn’t seem to be in a combative mood, I guess, so I made bold.

The next morning the Mr serenaded up with a full cooked breakfast of eggs, bacon, beans and toast. Boy that sets you up or what. Had trouble standing up straight, waist was under such duress.

This was the designated day for going to the Natural History Museum – or as they call it, the Australian Museum. Usual assortment of bones, dinosaurs, taxidermy and minerals. We spent ages there, there was of course loads to see, and Littles loved it. Have to say, their labelling was on the very skimpy side, and the least said about their taxidermy skills and the state of the specimens the better, but the whole museum was geared as much as at all possible to being accessible to children. They could pat masses of the exhibits (who were in a shockingly loved state), the could climb under gigantic turtle shells, they could look through microscopes, wrap themselves up in snake-skins and kangaroo skins, read storybooks about animals, touch rocks and minerals, draw pictures of rock formations, play around with casts of all the famous hominid skulls, juggle bones (again, totally unlabelled, quite impressive though) in a random higgledy piggeldy pile. In fact, dare I say, even the adults enjoyed actually feeling a real echidna, and finding out just how soft a platypus’s fur really is (at least, the bits that are still there and not entirely worn away by thousands of little hands stroking it).

 

 

By the end of the museum we were quite flagging, and left in the full knowledge that there was more to be looked at. Next time. We took a short walk to the Sydney Tower.

Now, normally this isn’t the sort of attraction we would be paying to see. However, it was the fourth thing on our annual pass, and we’d never seen it, so up the elevator to the umpteenth floor we went.

It really was surprisingly pleasant. Beautiful clear day, and you really can see every bit of Sydney. They have binoculars positioned at plenty of points round the place, with startlingly good magnification. It’s both intriguing and slightly off-putting suddenly to zoom in to someone parking rather badly at one corner of the park, and then someone juggling in front of a small crowd at the other end of it. People lifting cups of coffee to their lips in the cafes, children running round and round the waterfeature fountain in front of the Convention Centre. All in one swoop. … Plus, it was air conditioned and didn’t require much walking. Always a bonus.

  

 

Well eventually we tore ourselves away and now went for the main feature the Littles had been looking forward to: a ride on the monorail. Why she was so enthralled by this we don’t know, the fact remains that those few stops seem to have been some of the most memorable moments from the trip as far as she’s concerned. Off it went, and we got off at Chinatown to have a mosie.

The much-anticipated monorail and the first lion in Chinatown

 

Non doing a Gregory Peck impression from Roman Holiday at the Mouth of Truth... and riding the weird semi-caucasian lion

   

 

Mmm. We’ve made a mental note of the ambition to arrive at Chinatown ravenous and unencumbered by a child, and eat our way down the street. There were tasty-looking things on sale EVERYWHERE, but we’d just had a rather bland and very filling lunch rather late in the afternoon so there was no chance at all of indulging. Littles rode on no fewer than SIX lions (four Chinese, two rather weird half-Caucasian ones), after which the Chinatown escapade was considered closed. We retired back to the campsite.

We considered going for a refresher in the pool once we got back, but the whole effort of it seemed more than it was worth, even to junior members... so you get an idea of how tired we were by the time we hit camp. Had a shower instead, and dinner as fast as possible. The second night we used (or the Mr used, as he did the cooking throughout) the camp kitchen ('ooh a'say....') instead of our burner, and it was much easier. I think I'd still quite like to get hold of a table, we can probably just about fit it in (the car, that is). Facilities seem to vary a lot at the camps so sometimes it's easier to use one's own stove – for the first time this time round, the kitchen was easier. I guess one just has to play it by ear.

To my regret, as we were early and moreover ate in the kitchen, Blossom didn't come visiting: I hadn't had my camera to hand the night before and had been counting on it being a recurring episode. So no bush-tailed possum pics. Bed, though, bed!! For the first time camping we actually slept soundly... nice mattress, no rain keeping us awake, no wind about to rip off the tent... just delightful, wonderful BED. Finally. Perseverance pays off. Well, the odds are that if you're camping in the summer in Australia it should be sunny most of the time but we seem to have avoided it quite successfully so far.

Parrots up close and personal at the campsite, and Non and Daddy enjoy playing the DS in the evening.

  

 

Monday morning was bright and lovely as ever, and the Littles wasn't at all averse to the idea of spending the day at Tarronga Zoo but we decided that would be overegging the custard so packed up and called it a day. Just too cumulatively tired to be traipsing about a zoo all day. Drove home very pleasantly, absolutely beautiful day. (There was, of course, the surprising little incident where Ian's mobile phone ran – a rare occurrence in itself, even more surprisingly it was the W&W on the other side. Where were we? No weekend Skype call? We must be dead, maimed, abducted, and generally rotting in a ditch. Even MORE surprising as it was by this time probably about 1 in the morning over there. Oh dear.) Unpacked and cleaned up over the course of the afternoon while intermittently falling asleep in the heat. It was SO hot. Had to unroll and repack the tent (and quite a few other things) because it was still dewy when we packed up, so they had to be dried off. BOY did they dry off fast on the lawn. Toasted more like. So bright it was painful to open one's eyes outside without sunglasses. Put the tent out to dry tarpaulin-side up and within seconds it was too hot to stand on. And I'm really talking seconds here, perhaps 15.

Late in the afternoon the heat ebbed enough for us to venture to the beach. Had good time. Returned slightly on the late side, particularly as I was putting on a spinach and tofu lasagne and it always takes some little time to cook. Boy, we were hungry and ready for some veggies after loads of bacon and eggs, I've rarely seen Lara tuck in like that. She barely said a word until her plate was empty, must be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

 

It’s official. I can’t keep track. Simply can’t believe it’s Wednesday – and not for long, neither. Dear god where does the time go.

Well catch-up situation’s hopeless so I’ll just start with the most recent. Yesterday morning (so that makes it Tuesday morning on the 19^th) Anna called to say Would Lara like to do some fabric painting with Lillian? Well I think if you asked would Lara like to do some bungee jumping with Lillian she’d probably say Yes, so fabric painting was all-guns-go. Of we were at 10:30, down to Lillian’s where they had paints and fabric all laid out. Lots of drawing, dipping, and I think the Non was quite pleased with the way her T shirt turned out. We hung around playing and talking until well gone twelve, and incidentally suggested that we should perhaps make the sleepover night for that night. (Had planned this at some vague pint but never set it up as such). Once again, all guns go.

Home for a bit of lunch, then rolling around doing I know not what until about 3:00 – when I told Lara to get changed for swimming lessons so that we could stop off at Coles and get a chocolate cake for when Lillian came round. 25 minutes later, she was still downstairs, totally unchanged. Insisting that I MUST come up with her to get changed. Equally there’s me insisting that’s ridiculous, as I’m busy putting on the dinner which has to be ready before we leave. At 3:25 a vigorous spanking is applied to bottom. At 3:30 we leave, Lara fully changed. Why oh why. No idea.

Pretty good participation at the swimming lesson, even a bit of proper breathing at the crawl… well, when I say ‘proper’ it’s not lifting head up nicely to the side but I think she was doing it vaguely on alternate strokes, and not standing up each time, in fact, not standing up at all, so lots of progress. Perhaps she was really trying to get back into Good Books, or perhaps she just decided to listen to the teacher for once. Once again, a mystery, but on this occasion a pleasant one.

Return home laden with chocolate cake and fresh wine (our red rather went off when we left the box in the hot car while we went camping… but that’s another story…) and soon after, Lillian arrives. I believe they immediately ran off to play on Lara’s DS, and as I was about to have a medicinal whisky and ginger I offered one to Anna… so we happened to sit down and started chatting. Very pleasant, but after some reasonable time the phone rang – Aiden. The poor boy was attempting to locate his mother as he was quietly starving at home – and by now it was getting close to 6 p.m.. So Anna dashed off in a hurry. I swear, the time is running faster and faster for everyone round here, it’s not just me. Really can’t tell where it goes.

The girls had pasta and sauce for dinner, followed by lashings of chocolate cake… and I can safely say that Lillian eats at about a quarter of the rate Lara does, about half the quantity (roughly translates as her taking twice as long to consume half as much). I wish she’d eat with us a bit more often so Lara could get a good feel of how annoying it is to have to wait for ever and ever and ever for other people to finish. After this I filled up a good bathfull of bubbles, shoved them both in, they gave each other a jolly good scrub and were nice and ready for bed at the reasonable time of about 8 p.m.. Tucked up, all good.

And then the rumpus began. Thump, thump, screech. Giggle, yelp, thump. At about 8:30 they both came tripping down the stairs saying ‘need the toilet’ (what’s the matter with the two upstairs?) and took turns at the loo downstairs. Patter patter patter upstairs again, goodnight again. Thump screech bang bang bang. Singing. Shrieks. Sounds of things being dragged about… heavy things. At 9:20, patter patter patter, down they both come. We can’t get to sleep – are you playing Lara’s DS?? At 9:35 Ian sends them both back up again with the command – that was the last game, now you really must sleep. Patter patter patter. It was nearly 10 before the noises really quietened down. Soon after this we gave up ourselves and went to bed too, I believe , though the details of the evening are a trifle hazy.

By some miracle I ended up sleeping until nearly EIGHT… yes, as in, 8:00 a.m., on a weekday morning with a sleepover in progress. Woah, well fielded, Daddy. When grogged my way down the stairs they were already ensconced behind a brace of Santa toasts, munching happily.

Once Ian was off, we mooched a bit until gone 10, then went out to the beach, armed with two boogie boards, a dolphin, and an awful lot of sunscreen. Mind you it was pretty cloudy today, so not a lot of hotness going on, thankfully. They paddled very happily in the big pool on the boards (Lillian didn’t want to do any proper swimming, so neither did Lara – never mind) and the built a HUGE conglomerate of castles, with Castle Beanie, a large crocodile, pools, Santa’s Cheese Shop and the Candy Factory, as well as the Littlest Pet Shop store. At 12:30 I finally insisted they pack up and go home, so out to the showers for a scrub again. This time no-one forgot their shoes or their pants, and it all went pretty smoothly.

We were just putting pizzas on when Anna came by to pick Lillian up, so they stayed and had a drink while the girls ate up.

I think after they left we had quite a snuggle-up for a while… what with the late night and all the excitement I think batteries were starting to run a bit low. After a goodly interval, we did get out the workbooks and did some English and Maths (with the help of Grandfather Moose, of course) but I have to admit it slightly petered off.. what with me cooking and her being pretty tired. Early dinner, which merged into dinner with us because Daddy came home in the middle of it, and that’s about it.

I’m going to post this up and try to back-pedal on the stuff from our TWO camping trips I haven’t written about at all, so (although I’ve tried this before and it’s signally failed) check back later for further developments down the line.

Camping Trip the Second - the Wattigans

A week? A whole week? Where the hell does the time go. I really never thought I'd be saying this about the summer holidays, but they're flying past. Half way through already.

Early part of last week was mindless and relaxing. Lara's getting much better at her maths work... provided Grandfather Moose is there to invigilate. (Grandfather Moose is a large hand-puppet, in case there's anyone out there who doesn't know.) He has a penchant for gaping, calling for rum, and simply falling asleep if she gets things wrong or does them too slowly – on the other hand he gives deep 'moooose' bellows and nods approvingly if she does well. Remarkable what a difference it make. Also sobering to think that one is, as a parent, less motivating than a hand-puppet. Mind you, in the last few days we've quite abandoned work again... it's getting a bit sporadic.

It was her intensive swimming lesson week, and she improved dramatically. Not only in the swimming itself, but she got enough confidence to see that she really did get better and faster, so now (miracle of miracles) she actually WANTS to practice! Today is grey and now it's drizzling, but she asked to go down to the Baths and leaped into the deep declaring: 'I want to practice my swimming!' She proceeded to do little laps up and down, up and down, putting her head in nicely and practising her 'big arms' for crawl. She did a little bit of warm up and then ten of these mini-laps. Even by the end of the set she'd increased her speed and stroke-length, and decreased breath-rate from four breaths per lap to three. Damn, if I had those kinds of results you'd never hear the end of it. Jolly damn good. She's got her regular swimming lesson slot at 4 today and is looking forward to that, too.

The real excitement came at the camping trip at the weekend. We did consider going on Friday, after her last swimming lesson... and then abandoned the idea. Very glad we did because even though I'd put most of the big stuff into the car already the night before, it seemed to take forever to get all the bits and pieces together on the Saturday. I think we eventually set off at about 10:30 – hardly an early start. We headed up to the Wattigan mountains, a total of about an hour and three quarters inland... a lot of that spent crawling along unmade up roads. We promptly re-christened them the 'Wattingers', after the counterpart family to the Pontipines from 'The Night Garden' (this will be completely lost on anyone without very young children to entertain, but does involve Derek Jacobi in probably the most questionable narrative role of his career).

…. I've barely started on this, but it's getting late and we've got to go out – plus I know that not posting for a while makes some people edgy so I'll just pop it up and finish it off in the evening. Talk laters :)

Still wearing almost nothing here due to cooling-off factor. Put on some gypsy music at the end of the day and boy it plays the very devil with your legs. Had the Littles been more capable and of a rational disposition she'd probably have dispatched me instantly to a mental institution for heavy sedation and rehabilitation – as it was she just joined in, slightly thunderstruck.

A bit of a tiring day, all round, but well worth it. Early morning work with the Non – everything done and dusted well before we went off to swimming lessons: maths, English, and plenty of reading. She listened very nicely again to her new teacher, and tried ever so hard. Three kids in the class and she was the only one who was told to swim up and down on her own while next to the teacher while the others had their turn as well (they all get a go with the teacher equally but she didn't trust the others enough to tell them to swim on their own). She made absolute maximum use of the instruction and listened to every word. At the end of the half-hour she was tired but obviously jubilant: she knew perfectly well how much progress she'd made by listening.

We came home at 11 and she was starving, so I got out some of the mini-pizza bases I'd got a while back and had her assemble her own pizza. Now, putting together tomato sauce, red onion, sausage slices, mushrooms and cheese might not sound like a culinary feat to many, but it's more than I've got her to do in the past, and she really enjoyed it. As for the honour of being allowed to actually cut up her own cucumber slices with a proper knife, the thrill was almost overwhelming. (Well – 'proper' means table knife. Only a cucumber, after all.) Ate beautifully afterwards, too.

Then we went skating. Hadn't been for probably about two years, can't really remember. Perhaps marginally less. She was looking forward to it but on hitting the ice burst into terrified screams and wouldn't go near it. Luckily just as we got on the ice-cleaner came on so everyone got off, and she had time to calm down. Slowly, slowly, was persuaded to come onto the ice and take a few faltering steps. They have some excellent zimmer-frame like devices which learners can push around at the back of the rink here, and she used those a bit, then used me a bit, and from little to slightly more ended up having a great time and stayed till nearly the very end of the session. In all the ice-skating lessons she had back in Milton Keyens, she never really got the hang of propelling herself with one foot... not that she entirely has this time round but it's definitely hovering in the background there, and happens quite frequently, even if by accident.

It was gone 4 by the time we got back, and we were both exhausted. Still, hadn't done one of the main tasks we'd set for the day which was, take the tree down. So we did – and once again, she was more of a help than a hindrance, for once: stacking baubles into appropriate containers, flattening dismantled fake 'fir' branches, putting candy-canes into tupperware boxes. Pack away and hoover the debris – and it's time to fix dinner.

… Well, I fixed her her dinner but haven't done a thing for us. The Mr, incidentally, has been conspicuously absent from the narrative as he went off to Sydney at just gone 6 this morning wildly excited about his Ashes cricket day he had a ticket for, courtesy of the Camel. I really have no idea when he'll be home or what degree of sustenance he'll be wanting... but suspect it'll be something more that what I've prepared, which is zilch. All I've done is drink copious white wine and dance mad gypsy dances with the Littles. Not very sustaining after a hard day's cricketing. … I'll be off, shall I?

Hello all, happy new year! Well well well, who'd guess we all made it to 2011, eh. Just the other day I inadvertently stumbled for the correct year as 199... ah, no, we're already two decades on. I think it's safe to say I'll absolutely never catch up mentally. I'm toast.

The 3^rd already today, and drawing towards a close. Well, we've had a few quiet days, thank goodness. Today saw the start of the Non's swimming lessons, and she did very well. Well – that means, listening to the teacher and trying to do what was asked – and after all, what more can one hope for. Half an hour each day for five days. After that back to the normal one lesson per week. We'll see how it goes. Funnily enough, her this-week's instructor Tina is actually her normal instructor Jess's mum. Jess was there but off-duty for the time, so we chatted a little. How she stays in that pool just bobbing about for hours on end without freezing is something I will never understand. Mind you, there is a certain... err... tendency towards a sirenian body-shape that a lot of the instructors have there, so who knows, that might be beneficial in retaining body heat.

We didn't do much else concrete, except an ill-advised trip to the beach at about 2 p.m., which seems to be when the local isobars narrowed to super-model proportions and sitting on the beach meant being sandblasted into something probably approximating expensive salon exfoliating treatment. Once we got home and showered, the weather instantly cleared up.

It was bin day today (oh you do get all the exciting gossip right here, don't you). No, there is something interesting about it. It being summer n'all, critter numbers are up. Including round the bin handles. Now, taking bins out at night when it's entirely possible that black widows and god knows what else spiders have nestled in right at the handles of the bins is... not enticing. So today I wheeled them (the bins) down to the garage area and hosed them down vigorously, particularly near the handle grooves. Boy oh boy, arachnid heaven. Two huge fat orb spiders (you wouldn't believe the tiny crevices they can crawl into), some other fat thing I couldn't name, and countless other small things – luckily no redbacks that I could see. Saved all of them (certainly that I saw) but after the bins had dried out I sprayed them liberally with the horrid spider-killer, and my throat is still stinging from it, despite holding my breath. That stuff is (literally) lethal. Feel awful doing it but there are just certain lines that really need to be drawn. One of them is right there, on ownership of the bins.

Going back to yesterday, there was, of course, our trip to the Reptile Park. Just over an hour's drive south-ish towards Sydney. Outing was a huge success, despite the not-impressive amount of creatures available to view, due single-handedly to the efforts of one testosterone-filled egomaniac of a geriatric reptile handler with a monolithic obsession of raising money to save the Tasmanian Devil (6m AUD), mainly it seems through sales of photographs of everything the park could possibly have to offer, almost certainly including cute park-keepers of any denomination whatsoever. He ran shows throughout the day, and I mean throughout – constantly. Reptiles general, crocodile feeding, baby animals, stick insects, snakes, venom extraction program, dingos, whatever. He'd talk, entertain, drop a little bit of information here and there, defy death every few minutes to keep the interest up, and plug photographs at the end. Heavily. $15 a pop for standard ones, all proceeds going to Devil breeding programmes wherever they are. Hats off, that chap is positively dragging the whole park kicking and screaming in the direction he wants to go in. The Non loved it. Wanted to see every single show available. Considering we arrived at about 10:30 and left at nearly 5, and the last show ended at about 4, it's very impressive. Our camera batteries ran out at a very early stage in the day, possibly all for the best. After all, our hard drives are crammed with photos of animals and us with animals, it's all more of the same and it's more fun going round without having to photograph things all the time. I think we got pics of the Galapagos tortoise and that was about it.

On New Year's Day itself I think all we really did was go to the beach, and chill out at home. So tired from all the previous excitement. Very welcome break. I think there was some considerable video-watching (though I fail to recall what), and possibly more than ample eating (of something, don't know what). Plugged into the mains and recharging on a hot socket.

p.s. You probably've never seen this excellent video. 12 days of Christmas Indian style. Happy 2011. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owK5tHjL0aE&feature=channel 

Happy New Year, Everyone!

Happy new year, all!

These little pics are from the early eddition of the New Year fireworks ont he Foreshore - they put on one set at 9 in advance of the session at 12. Needless to say, the place was packed with children, all twirling glow-sticks and tumbling handstands on the grass. Fireworks tore the early evening sky apart with delightful gusto, satisfying brevity and to intense childish satisfaction. 

Small episode of hillarity as we queued endlessly to get out of the car-park and turned the radio on: didn't know what the tune was but it turns out it was Beyonce's 'all the single ladies' (or some such) and she was grooving away in the back there going 'oohh oohh ooohhgh, oh oh ooogh, If you really like it you should've put a ring on it" as if someone were prodding her in the ribs (which on later investigation we found out is pretty much the way Beyonce delivers it herself). Seems it's a favourite with some of the girls at school. A final moment of giggling kindergarten-insight for the outgoing year.