After my last post I got to wondering: what names have you given to your cars, if any?
I call my car now "The Mom Mobile," but this is not a proper name. I was never really into naming my cars (my friends did, hence the references to cars with names in previous post), but I did once, when I was about 23 or 24, name a car "Suckling Pig." I was in a play at the time, and driving another one of the actresses to and from rehearsals. There was a suckling pig (as in one you eat) referred to in the play, and we had this hysterical prop for the pig (that was way too large to be a suckling, we felt) and it made us laugh, so we started referring to the car as "Suckling Pig." About a year later my husband was driving the car (our ONLY car, I will add) when it caught on fire, and literally burned to a crisp on the side of the road(he got out safely). My friend had since moved to NYC, and I sent her an e-mail telling her we had had a pig roast!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The wind in my toes
As I was driving home this morning, after dropping The May Queen off at kindergarten, I saw two feet sticking out of a car window. They were crossed comfortably above the side mirror. The car was an old boxy car, covered with stickers and a bit of rust. Immediately I was filled with memories of being young and riding with my feet out the window. Of the the cool rush of air over my feet, up my legs, into my face and through my hair. Of riding in the car with my high school friends, laughing and singing, with no where in particular to go. Long summer days and cars with names, which we hopped into through the windows, just for fun. Our lives stretched before us like the open road, the possibilities rushing past like the wind.
I drove on home, in my minivan, with the air conditioning on. But in my mind, my feet were hanging out the window.
I drove on home, in my minivan, with the air conditioning on. But in my mind, my feet were hanging out the window.
Monday, August 13, 2007
My Baby is in Kindergarten
we interrupt the regularly scheduled travelogue for this story....
The May Queen started Kindergarten today. Yes, yes, I know. It is hotter than hell and still the middle of summer. But not in Louisiana. Well, it is in Louisiana, too, but it is also back to school time.
I've written before about how we fought to get The May Queen into kindergarten this year, and how I struggled over the summer with this decision. Yesterday I watched her bare little body picking out clothes from her closet and marvelled, could this little body, this baby, be starting kindergarten? Later I looked at her feet in her sandals and saw her baby feet. Surely those feet could not stand on their own in kindergarten.
The May Queen was excited. We had her uniform set out for the next day. I decorated her school bag with her name, flowers, and a giraffe (her favorite animal!). I made a cover for her nap mat out of an old sheet (I'm so domestic! And thrifty! I'll be up for mother of the year!). She picked her colorful blanket to take with her for rest time. She even asked if she could take Teddy along, as she couldn't sleep without him (I doubted her ability to nap at all, as she gave napping up a full 2 years ago, but kindergarten is a full day -7 hours!- and rest time is mandated by the state) . I told her we would put him in her bag, and ask her teacher in the morning.
This morning I had set my alarm so that I could get up in time. School begins at 8am and I am not a morning person. I got up, grumpy, as I had not slept well since MQ crawled into bed with us sometime around 1, and appx. every hour on the hour after that I woke up with a knee in my back. I could have moved her, I suppose, but in the middle of the night I don't always think of these things.
As I was taking my shower she woke up and went downstairs with her daddy, who got her a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Then she appeared in the bathroom, crying. It hurt when she swallowed. Could my baby be sick? On her first day of kindergarten! No! I joined them downstairs, and we tried softer foods. Pancakes. More tears. A bowl of applesauce. More tears. I looked down her throat with the trusty hippo flashlight. It looked like she had scraped her throat with that first bite of cereal. Otherwise, she had no other symptoms. We decided she was not sick. As we started getting dressed, she began coughing hard, painful coughs. Forced coughs. And she cried. I held her in my lap and asked what was wrong. She just cried and coughed. My husband looked on, helpless. This is not usual behavior for our May Queen, who was just yesterday leaping about talking all about her new school and her new teacher. I told her I would wait until she calmed down. When she did, I asked her if she was nervous, and she said she was. We talked a little bit about what it would be like, what might happen. She started to get dressed. She started to smile. Then she worried she would cry at snack time. I told her that mouths heal very fast, but that if she thought it would hurt, to just say she wasn't hungry. She nodded, seriously. She could do that. By the time we finished getting her dressed she was happy, ready to go.
OK, not quite THIS happy. This picture was taken AFTER school. She refused to have her picture taken before school. It was a battle I chose not to fight
When we arrived at school the children were lining up with their classes in the gym. It is a small, private school, and today in the kindergarten class only the girls were there. MQ went easily and sat by her teacher while I went and stood at the edge and watched. She got a name tag. She stood and said the morning prayers, the pledge. Then she followed the teacher back to the room. We parents were invited to help them get their things into their cubby, and say goodbye. MQ took the bag with her mat and blanket from my hand. "I'll carry this" she said. She put her things away. She walked right up to her teacher and asked if she could bring out Teddy at nap time ("of course"). And she walked into her classroom. I had to call her back out to give me a hug.
I was so worried this morning. I had never seen my baby behave that way, so scared, so unable to say what was wrong. I worried I was pushing her. I debated crawling back into bed with her, calling in sick. Spending the day coloring and playing and tickling. But that big girl at school? The one who ran into the room without a backwards glance at me? That's the girl that I know will thrive in kindergarten. I wasn't quite prepared for how quickly it would happen this morning... that one moment she would be this baby by my side, and the next she would be walking eagerly away from me. I wanted to take some more time to linger. To see her new classroom. To make the transition. But she needed to do that without me.
Go ahead and jump right in, baby. The sky is the limit.
Don't mind me. I'll just cry quietly on the way home.
(As you can imagine, she had a wonderful first day of kindergarten. She even slept during nap time. When she came home, we invited the neighbors over to enjoy that delicious pencil cake.)
Saturday, August 11, 2007
This Theatre Geek in England
(i am having terrible troubles trying to get this to lay out correctly, so please forgive the little bits of text to the right of the pictures and such. When I look at it as I compose it it looks lovely)
A Theatre Geek cannot go to the land of William Shakespeare and not pay homage. It is impossible. A Theatre Geek cannot go to a big city and not see lots of theatre. It is not done. And so... the adventures of this Theatre Geek in England:
We arrived on a Wed, and as I had slept about, oh, 4 minutes on our red eye flight I chose to hit the sack at 7:30pm that night. No theatre for me. Nothing worse than a snoring audience member. But every other night that I was in London...
On Thursday we decided to hit the half price theatre booths in Leicester Square to try our luck. Our first couple of choices were unavailable, but my cousin and I settled on The Drowsy Chaperone at the Novella Theatre, starring Elaine Page. I know, I know - an American Import!! What were we thinking? Perhaps that local show Lord of the Rings had gotten terrible reviews. ;) It was a fun and fluffy sort of show, very well done, and we enjoyed it immensely. That same evening my brother and SIL went to see Avenue Q (another American import!) I have seen Ave Q in Vegas, and highly recommend it to anyone. In fact, we mommies are really its best audience, as it is a very adult send up of Sesame Street. Go buy the soundtrack and perhaps, like me, you will have to pull over your car to stop laughing. But don't listen to it in front of your children, unless you want them to start in with a rendition of "The Internet is for Porn" in front of your in-laws.
But I digress. Back to this Theatre Geek in England...
Friday night was the thing I had been waiting for. The only thing I said I HAD to do in England. The thing my cousin (a writer and fellow theatre geek) and I had been scheming for over a year. The thing I had called from the states to book tickets for... Love's Labour's Lost at The Globe . (cue theme music now!) The Globe was built 10 years ago to replicate as closely as possible the theatre where Shakespeare's plays were first produced. A lot of the theatre is guesswork - culled from a few sketches and descriptions, and taking cues from the way things were written in the plays. They did excavate the foundation of the Globe a while back, so they have a pretty good idea of the size and shape of it.
My heart was pounding I was so excited! So of course I had to have my picture taken in front of it! As a theatre student I read all about the Globe, what it might look like, how it effected staging, how the audience ate nuts and oranges throughout the performance. ;) Getting to go to the Globe was like walking into a textbook. Only 500 times better. I imagined myself on that stage... speaking Shakespeare's words. Heaven.
The show was, of course, fantastic. Fabulous acting all around, and lots of bawdy humor. I'm glad that we reserved seats (at the back of the first level, just off center. Fantastic!) We could have gone that day and bought "Groundling" tickets for 5 pounds and stood in the front. However, after walking all day I was glad we had seats, even if they were only on wooden benches. When it began to rain I was even more relieved. The seats are covered, and most of the stage, but the area in front of it was not. At intermission the stage hands came out and squeegeed the catwalk-like areas in front of the stage that had gotten wet.
This is the ceiling above the stage. I didn't get to take it until the show was over, and so it was already dark out, and the lighting bad. It is believed that the ceiling of the original Globe was painted to show the heavens. Here, the heavens are portrayed by the fleshed out constellations. I have seen it in models and books to show the moon and stars.
You can take a tour of the theatre, and I wish that I could have done that, but alas, they only offered it in the mornings, and I didn't have the time.
On Saturday night I went to see Harold Pinter's The Hothouse at the National Theatre (the theatre originally helmed by Olivier). I really wanted to see a modern British playwright done by the Brits themselves. Oddly enough, no one else wanted to join me. ;) Pinter can be a bit difficult, and this is not one of his better known plays (like Betrayal or The Birthday Party). I remember before heading off to college trying to bone up on more modern playwrights and getting a book of 4 Pinter plays from my local library. I don't think that at the time I would have imagined myself excited to see one of his plays. But excited I was, and very much enjoyed this excellent, funny, and very creepy production. I don't get to see much theatre done in big spaces with top notch actors these days, and it was really refreshing. My husband laughed at me when I worried I wouldn't be able to get tickets that day, but this large theatre had quite an audience. I love live theatre, and it was exciting just to be in that space with those people, in a building where several plays were happening at once. The play made me think, as all Pinter plays tend to do, abut power and relationships and the fight for control. Thinky theatre is good theatre (just as the fluff of The Drowsy Chaperone can be just what one needs, as well).
Nearly a week later found me with my family in Stratford-Upon-Avon, Shakespeare's birthplace. They have fancied it up a bit since I was there 21 years ago, adding on a little museum (jacking the entrance price, of course), even adding decoration and furnishing to the home. The museum was mildly interesting, and I learned a few things about good ol' Willy's childhood that I hadn't known before. This is a picture of his birthplace (it has been added onto over the years, the original house is probably the middle part as you look at it. That tiny figure in the purple is my daughter. She was very unimpressed to be at Shakespeare's house). I did spend some money at the gift shop (of course!) and discovered that this must be where my aunt bought The May Queen the hysterical finger puppets for A Midsummer Night's Dream. The Royal Shakespeare Company was in town performing, but alas, I could not stay for a show. 21 years ago I saw Midsummer here. It may well have been the first Shakespeare play I ever saw. And thus it began... ;)
For you Shakespeare Geeks - here is a sign over a restaurant on the same street as Shakespeare's Birthplace. There was also an As You Like It Cafe.
I also enjoyed The Creaky Cauldron, which of course made me think of The Leaky Cauldron .
Our very last night in town we went to see Windsor Castle, and walked by The Royal Theatre. I happened to notice that G.B. Shaw's Pygmalion (I love this play! I'm dying to play Eliza someday) was opening THAT NIGHT. Directed by SIR PETER HALL. I was salivating. I figured there couldn't possibly be any seats left, and that I could stop in and ask, they would tell me no, and I would say "alas" and be on my way. See, I knew there was no way I could see it. We still had to check into our hotel and return our rental car. So I stopped in. Not only were there still seats, but they were cheap. I tried and tried to find a way to do it (I could take a cab!) but there was just no way. Alas, indeed.
I had hoped this post to be a little more inspired, but it reads more like the excited ramblings of a geek. Which I suppose is just about right, in the end.
A Theatre Geek cannot go to the land of William Shakespeare and not pay homage. It is impossible. A Theatre Geek cannot go to a big city and not see lots of theatre. It is not done. And so... the adventures of this Theatre Geek in England:We arrived on a Wed, and as I had slept about, oh, 4 minutes on our red eye flight I chose to hit the sack at 7:30pm that night. No theatre for me. Nothing worse than a snoring audience member. But every other night that I was in London...
On Thursday we decided to hit the half price theatre booths in Leicester Square to try our luck. Our first couple of choices were unavailable, but my cousin and I settled on The Drowsy Chaperone at the Novella Theatre, starring Elaine Page. I know, I know - an American Import!! What were we thinking? Perhaps that local show Lord of the Rings had gotten terrible reviews. ;) It was a fun and fluffy sort of show, very well done, and we enjoyed it immensely. That same evening my brother and SIL went to see Avenue Q (another American import!) I have seen Ave Q in Vegas, and highly recommend it to anyone. In fact, we mommies are really its best audience, as it is a very adult send up of Sesame Street. Go buy the soundtrack and perhaps, like me, you will have to pull over your car to stop laughing. But don't listen to it in front of your children, unless you want them to start in with a rendition of "The Internet is for Porn" in front of your in-laws.
But I digress. Back to this Theatre Geek in England...
Friday night was the thing I had been waiting for. The only thing I said I HAD to do in England. The thing my cousin (a writer and fellow theatre geek) and I had been scheming for over a year. The thing I had called from the states to book tickets for... Love's Labour's Lost at The Globe . (cue theme music now!) The Globe was built 10 years ago to replicate as closely as possible the theatre where Shakespeare's plays were first produced. A lot of the theatre is guesswork - culled from a few sketches and descriptions, and taking cues from the way things were written in the plays. They did excavate the foundation of the Globe a while back, so they have a pretty good idea of the size and shape of it.
My heart was pounding I was so excited! So of course I had to have my picture taken in front of it! As a theatre student I read all about the Globe, what it might look like, how it effected staging, how the audience ate nuts and oranges throughout the performance. ;) Getting to go to the Globe was like walking into a textbook. Only 500 times better. I imagined myself on that stage... speaking Shakespeare's words. Heaven.
The show was, of course, fantastic. Fabulous acting all around, and lots of bawdy humor. I'm glad that we reserved seats (at the back of the first level, just off center. Fantastic!) We could have gone that day and bought "Groundling" tickets for 5 pounds and stood in the front. However, after walking all day I was glad we had seats, even if they were only on wooden benches. When it began to rain I was even more relieved. The seats are covered, and most of the stage, but the area in front of it was not. At intermission the stage hands came out and squeegeed the catwalk-like areas in front of the stage that had gotten wet.
This is the ceiling above the stage. I didn't get to take it until the show was over, and so it was already dark out, and the lighting bad. It is believed that the ceiling of the original Globe was painted to show the heavens. Here, the heavens are portrayed by the fleshed out constellations. I have seen it in models and books to show the moon and stars.
You can take a tour of the theatre, and I wish that I could have done that, but alas, they only offered it in the mornings, and I didn't have the time.
On Saturday night I went to see Harold Pinter's The Hothouse at the National Theatre (the theatre originally helmed by Olivier). I really wanted to see a modern British playwright done by the Brits themselves. Oddly enough, no one else wanted to join me. ;) Pinter can be a bit difficult, and this is not one of his better known plays (like Betrayal or The Birthday Party). I remember before heading off to college trying to bone up on more modern playwrights and getting a book of 4 Pinter plays from my local library. I don't think that at the time I would have imagined myself excited to see one of his plays. But excited I was, and very much enjoyed this excellent, funny, and very creepy production. I don't get to see much theatre done in big spaces with top notch actors these days, and it was really refreshing. My husband laughed at me when I worried I wouldn't be able to get tickets that day, but this large theatre had quite an audience. I love live theatre, and it was exciting just to be in that space with those people, in a building where several plays were happening at once. The play made me think, as all Pinter plays tend to do, abut power and relationships and the fight for control. Thinky theatre is good theatre (just as the fluff of The Drowsy Chaperone can be just what one needs, as well).
Nearly a week later found me with my family in Stratford-Upon-Avon, Shakespeare's birthplace. They have fancied it up a bit since I was there 21 years ago, adding on a little museum (jacking the entrance price, of course), even adding decoration and furnishing to the home. The museum was mildly interesting, and I learned a few things about good ol' Willy's childhood that I hadn't known before. This is a picture of his birthplace (it has been added onto over the years, the original house is probably the middle part as you look at it. That tiny figure in the purple is my daughter. She was very unimpressed to be at Shakespeare's house). I did spend some money at the gift shop (of course!) and discovered that this must be where my aunt bought The May Queen the hysterical finger puppets for A Midsummer Night's Dream. The Royal Shakespeare Company was in town performing, but alas, I could not stay for a show. 21 years ago I saw Midsummer here. It may well have been the first Shakespeare play I ever saw. And thus it began... ;)
For you Shakespeare Geeks - here is a sign over a restaurant on the same street as Shakespeare's Birthplace. There was also an As You Like It Cafe.I also enjoyed The Creaky Cauldron, which of course made me think of The Leaky Cauldron .
Our very last night in town we went to see Windsor Castle, and walked by The Royal Theatre. I happened to notice that G.B. Shaw's Pygmalion (I love this play! I'm dying to play Eliza someday) was opening THAT NIGHT. Directed by SIR PETER HALL. I was salivating. I figured there couldn't possibly be any seats left, and that I could stop in and ask, they would tell me no, and I would say "alas" and be on my way. See, I knew there was no way I could see it. We still had to check into our hotel and return our rental car. So I stopped in. Not only were there still seats, but they were cheap. I tried and tried to find a way to do it (I could take a cab!) but there was just no way. Alas, indeed.
I had hoped this post to be a little more inspired, but it reads more like the excited ramblings of a geek. Which I suppose is just about right, in the end.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Blogher UK
I've been enjoying catching up on my blog reading, and about all things blogher (although I have some questions, you attendees: has your blogging changed since the conference? are you now reading another 500 blogs of all the fabulous people you met? did you actually learn anything about blogging or did you just drink lots and lots of wine?) but I cannot be too jealous since I was on a fabulous vacation, and had a mini blogher of my own. In Cambridge. So there.
I met the fabulous sheepy author of Wherever Ewe Go, There Ewe Are(and you can read her account of our encounter here.)
When I wrote my post about going to England, she commented and said she was in Cambridge, and to let her know if I would be heading up that way. As it turns out, I already had plans to be there as my husband did a semester at Christ College, Cambridge many, many, MANY moons ago. He wanted to go check out his old stomping grounds, so we were planning to head up there as we left London and headed to our family gathering. My brother and sister in law were getting a ride with us out and came along, not particularly willingly, I will add. Getting lost on the way to Cambridge did not help (that "hour north" thing of London? Yes, I suppose if you drive directly there. It took us nearly 3 hours. Lots of things went wrong with varying levels of blame on different shoulders. I shan't go there. We made it. Finally). When we arrived my hubby took off walking to find the place he once lived, and as an introvert I think he wanted to pretty much do that by himself. Plus, it was a long walk, and I was nursing 2 huge blisters from the day before, one which I had rolled over with a suitcase that morning (blood all over the sidewalk!) and was wearing flipflops. So he took off and I called up Ewe, as arranged, and we made a plan to meet. My brother and SIL moped around with me a bit, trying to be game, and I finally convinced them that I would be OK, they should go punting on the Cam, and I would meet up with them later. They obliged. I finally found Ewe, thanks to her brilliant suggestion that she would be wearing a bright red floral sun hat. I never would have found her otherwise. She took the hat off immediately upon seeing me, but still had a cute little hairdo. I could not do that. I wear a hat for 10 seconds and I have hat head for the rest of the day. But I digress. She was a really lovely person and I very much enjoyed walking around Cambridge with her and Baby Boo for about an hour. I must confess there was no breast grabbing, as apparently happened a lot at blogher, but then again we were drinking Diet Coke instead of wine. What did happen was a very lovely conversation with a lovely person, and I'm glad to have met her. She was kind and easy to talk to, and has lived in so many places that she has lots of interesting stories. Who needs to punt the Cam when you can meet a fabulous individual? We finally sat down in front of King's College when my brother and SIL wandered by (and I think Ewe immediately sensed their readiness to get out of Cambridge... that sullen feeling of "I was dragged here, and I'm ready to leave now" because she made some quiet comment under her breath that I have now forgotten, but made me love her even more) But we did manage to take advantage of their photographic skills and get this shot of us:
We then wandered off to the appointed meeting with my husband, and we visitors went on our way. Thank EWE for taking time out of your weekend to meet this crazy lady off the web. And thank you for speaking so kindly of me on your blog - for emphasizing my good points, and ignoring my bad.
When we met up Baby Boo was sniffling over his "3 jabs" (that would be shots, I didn't get it when Ewe first told me. Am I really that slow? yes, I suppose so) and it seems appropriate to post this today, when The May Queen went in to have 3 shots in preparation for kindergarten (On Monday!!! ACK!!!) She was very good about it, and only cried a wee bit on the very last one, but this evening was walking around the house at a snail's pace for fear of "hurting her legs." I do not wonder where she gets the drama from, so don't bother asking.
I am still sorting through my gobs of England photos (now up to 329 out of 658!) which is why you are getting bits and pieces (bits and pieces! they say this all the time in England about all sorts of things, including, but certainly not limited to, genitals. We found this very amusing). I have several posts in my head as I am sorting, and we'll see if I manage to write them all before you, or I, get sick of the England posts.
But while we are here, a few more pretty pictures of Cambridge, because it was a lovely day.
This is the BACK of King's College - where I first tried to meet Ewe, before realizing that she was probably waiting for me at the FRONT. Those little whitish blobs in the field to the left? Those are COWS. Cows. In the middle of Cambridge. I found this very funny, and as we were walking back there later, Ewe mentioned, all on her own, how the cows made her laugh. I told you I liked her.
This is a church right off the city market, and I can't remember the name (my husband would, but he is asleep) Mary something, maybe? Anyhow, I like this picture. Looking up the tower into the sky. It lifts me up.
I met the fabulous sheepy author of Wherever Ewe Go, There Ewe Are(and you can read her account of our encounter here.)
When I wrote my post about going to England, she commented and said she was in Cambridge, and to let her know if I would be heading up that way. As it turns out, I already had plans to be there as my husband did a semester at Christ College, Cambridge many, many, MANY moons ago. He wanted to go check out his old stomping grounds, so we were planning to head up there as we left London and headed to our family gathering. My brother and sister in law were getting a ride with us out and came along, not particularly willingly, I will add. Getting lost on the way to Cambridge did not help (that "hour north" thing of London? Yes, I suppose if you drive directly there. It took us nearly 3 hours. Lots of things went wrong with varying levels of blame on different shoulders. I shan't go there. We made it. Finally). When we arrived my hubby took off walking to find the place he once lived, and as an introvert I think he wanted to pretty much do that by himself. Plus, it was a long walk, and I was nursing 2 huge blisters from the day before, one which I had rolled over with a suitcase that morning (blood all over the sidewalk!) and was wearing flipflops. So he took off and I called up Ewe, as arranged, and we made a plan to meet. My brother and SIL moped around with me a bit, trying to be game, and I finally convinced them that I would be OK, they should go punting on the Cam, and I would meet up with them later. They obliged. I finally found Ewe, thanks to her brilliant suggestion that she would be wearing a bright red floral sun hat. I never would have found her otherwise. She took the hat off immediately upon seeing me, but still had a cute little hairdo. I could not do that. I wear a hat for 10 seconds and I have hat head for the rest of the day. But I digress. She was a really lovely person and I very much enjoyed walking around Cambridge with her and Baby Boo for about an hour. I must confess there was no breast grabbing, as apparently happened a lot at blogher, but then again we were drinking Diet Coke instead of wine. What did happen was a very lovely conversation with a lovely person, and I'm glad to have met her. She was kind and easy to talk to, and has lived in so many places that she has lots of interesting stories. Who needs to punt the Cam when you can meet a fabulous individual? We finally sat down in front of King's College when my brother and SIL wandered by (and I think Ewe immediately sensed their readiness to get out of Cambridge... that sullen feeling of "I was dragged here, and I'm ready to leave now" because she made some quiet comment under her breath that I have now forgotten, but made me love her even more) But we did manage to take advantage of their photographic skills and get this shot of us:
We then wandered off to the appointed meeting with my husband, and we visitors went on our way. Thank EWE for taking time out of your weekend to meet this crazy lady off the web. And thank you for speaking so kindly of me on your blog - for emphasizing my good points, and ignoring my bad.
When we met up Baby Boo was sniffling over his "3 jabs" (that would be shots, I didn't get it when Ewe first told me. Am I really that slow? yes, I suppose so) and it seems appropriate to post this today, when The May Queen went in to have 3 shots in preparation for kindergarten (On Monday!!! ACK!!!) She was very good about it, and only cried a wee bit on the very last one, but this evening was walking around the house at a snail's pace for fear of "hurting her legs." I do not wonder where she gets the drama from, so don't bother asking.
I am still sorting through my gobs of England photos (now up to 329 out of 658!) which is why you are getting bits and pieces (bits and pieces! they say this all the time in England about all sorts of things, including, but certainly not limited to, genitals. We found this very amusing). I have several posts in my head as I am sorting, and we'll see if I manage to write them all before you, or I, get sick of the England posts.
But while we are here, a few more pretty pictures of Cambridge, because it was a lovely day.
This is the BACK of King's College - where I first tried to meet Ewe, before realizing that she was probably waiting for me at the FRONT. Those little whitish blobs in the field to the left? Those are COWS. Cows. In the middle of Cambridge. I found this very funny, and as we were walking back there later, Ewe mentioned, all on her own, how the cows made her laugh. I told you I liked her.
This is a church right off the city market, and I can't remember the name (my husband would, but he is asleep) Mary something, maybe? Anyhow, I like this picture. Looking up the tower into the sky. It lifts me up.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
a few photos
OK. this sorting pictures thing is hard. I have sorted exactly 202 of my 658 photos. But I'm getting there. I am feeling very achy today, which I am hoping is jet lag and not the bug that sent half my extended family into an intimate relationship with the toilet at some point while abroad. Although I know I'd rather be sick at home than while in a foreign country. But to tide you over while I continue to sort through this huge mass of photographic evidence (and repeatedly asking my husband "what is this lovely building?" He is so good at remembering!) I will share with you this first photo, taken our first day in London. We arrived around 11am and took the taxi to our hotel. My parents, brother, SIL and their kids arrived shortly after. We grabbed lunch at a local pub (our worst meal the whole time we were there, I think) and then dragged the tired kids (OK, the tired adults, too) off for some prime photo opportunities. See, the next day my parents were taking their 3 grandkids off to the relatives homes so we gen Xers could do some sightseeing without whining children. However, you can't go to London without a photo of your family at Big Ben, can you? No, you cannot.
No, I was not actually making a phone call. I did make phone calls from phone booths in London, but not one of these old fashioned ones. Consider it a call to all of you. I just called, to say, I love you...
Oh, OK, and a few more photos, because I am feeling generous.
My husband drove brilliantly in England, never once driving on the right (which is wrong, in England) side of the road, and navigating roundabouts with a fearlessness that did make me grip the dashboard a few times, I confess. We found that some of the ways that England does things are rather helpful, but certainly not their habit of allowing trees and brush to grow up over all their signs so that you cannot read them. This made navigating quite difficult. There was one sign we kept guessing meant "don't drive on my crops," but later learned that it meant "No parking or standing." Actually, as my aunt tried to explain it to me, she started by saying "It means that the road is a straight-away, well, as straight as anything is here in England..." We liked our original definition better. We did take a picture of this sign, because we were so impressed that the British care so much about their senior citizens.
This sign was literally in the middle of nowhere. Where were these elderly people supposed to be coming from, we wondered. The first time we saw the sign we laughed at it, then immediately got stuck behind a slow driver. We then thought the sign was wrong, and should have shown a balding man driving a car. At least some things are the same in every country.
My husband's favorite sign, however, was one we never saw again, unfortunately. The sign read like this:
Dead
Slow
Children
Playing
Need I say more?
And, because I HAD to take this touristy photo, I will share it with you:
No, I was not actually making a phone call. I did make phone calls from phone booths in London, but not one of these old fashioned ones. Consider it a call to all of you. I just called, to say, I love you...
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
I'm back!
I promise to bore you with lots of photos and tales from England soon, and tomorrow I will start the unweildy task of sorting through over 600 digital photos (and those are just mine, wait until the CDs from all the relatives start pouring in!)... which I should have plenty of time to do because I won't be unpacking. Yes, all three suitcases apparently did not make it onto our connecting flight out of Washington DC even though we sat on the airplane for over an hour in the sweltering heat (it was so lovely and cool in England) because, we were told, they were loading all the baggage! Not ours, apparently. I'm not too worried about the clothes, but if my souvenirs are lost there will be hell to pay.
That last flight was pretty wretched, with the May Queen WAY beyond when she should be sleeping and constantly pulling on my arm despite my pleas for her to stop and me turning my face out the window and fighting back tears as my husband tried to calm her down and I mentally abused myself for behaving like a sullen teenager and letting my 4 year old get the best of me.
But that was only a bad end to what was truly a FANTASTIC vacation. However... as it is currently 3:50 am London time, and I woke up yesterday morning in London at 6:30, I think that my bed (oh so comfortable, King Sized and in an air conditioned room!) is calling my name, I will bid you goodnight, and bore you more tomorrow. If I can drag my jet lagged behind out of bed. We'll see. I may just pop in the disney movies for the May Queen and sleep this off. She got lots of culture these last 2 weeks, so a few days... ahem... hours of the boob tube won't hurt her, right?
I'm babbling. You can see how tired I am. Goodnight. I'm getting off now. Really.
That last flight was pretty wretched, with the May Queen WAY beyond when she should be sleeping and constantly pulling on my arm despite my pleas for her to stop and me turning my face out the window and fighting back tears as my husband tried to calm her down and I mentally abused myself for behaving like a sullen teenager and letting my 4 year old get the best of me.
But that was only a bad end to what was truly a FANTASTIC vacation. However... as it is currently 3:50 am London time, and I woke up yesterday morning in London at 6:30, I think that my bed (oh so comfortable, King Sized and in an air conditioned room!) is calling my name, I will bid you goodnight, and bore you more tomorrow. If I can drag my jet lagged behind out of bed. We'll see. I may just pop in the disney movies for the May Queen and sleep this off. She got lots of culture these last 2 weeks, so a few days... ahem... hours of the boob tube won't hurt her, right?
I'm babbling. You can see how tired I am. Goodnight. I'm getting off now. Really.
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