December 22, 2006

Hello, all.

I have to admit that just after my last installment,
our magical life in Great Britain broke into pieces.
Ryan got lice at boarding school and gave it to Aidan.
I ignited into a disproportionately extreme melt down
that the children will not soon forget and all but
packed our bags to move home. Jim, who, over the
years, has developed a keen sense for knowing when to
leave the country, was safely tucked away in the
United States and doled out bits of wisdom and
encouragement over the phone which, I have to admit, I
found to be less than helpful. I've been told to
expect the kids will get lice 20 times before we
return to the States. It is as "common as mud" they
tell me. Great. Visit at your own risk.

My parents arrived with Jim and it was wonderful to
see them and hard to let them go. It was a short
visit, but they were able to attend chapel on the last
day of term (beautiful) and were here for Michael and
Siobhan's first ball. Michael in his "dinner suit"
(tux) and Siobhan in her gorgeous dress (ballet style)
were a sight to behold. So grown up. Ball gown
shopping began in early October with a frenzy you'd
associate with a royal wedding. Siobhan, of course,
wanted to look like she was 21 and I was hoping to put
her into something more, say, burlap sack-like. A
compromise was struck with a dress that was both sweet
and sophisticated. They both looked quite elegant.
Michael got to slow dance with the "it" girl in class
which made him feel pretty darn good about life
("Lucky!", Ryan responded).

In case anyone is feeling sorry for Ryan because he
was too young to go to the ball, don't. He had the
good fortune to be asked to a party by the cutest
little girl who has been drawing him pictures of cars
and writing him notes since we moved here. He was
mortified (especially because the girl actually called
and asked ME, not him, which I loved because there was
no way he could cover it up). We, being a very
sensitive people, didn't tease him mercilessly. Much.
And even better that his grandparents were here to
participate. As his luck would have it, we were to be
in London the evening of the party and he couldn't
attend. Ryan is such a reluctant heart throb.

We all went to London and Jim and I were able to sneak
away to see Spamalot the musical based on Monty
Python's The Holy Grail, which we couldn't get tickets
to when it was in Chicago (It was great!). It was
impossible to get a cab back to the hotel afterward,
so against our better judgment we got into a rickshaw.
Because things like this just seem to happen to us,
we ended up WEDGED between two double decker buses on
Oxford Street, one of London's busiest roads!
'Ironic, really', I thought to myself (or words to
that effect). 'All the stupid things I did as a
teenager and now I'm going to DIE in a RICKSHAW?!'
The bus drivers were shouting at the rickshaw driver
and a man inside the bus gestured to me that he'd
pray for us. After we were out of immediate danger,
we politely asked the driver to pull over so we could
exit the rickshaw safely (or words to that effect).

Even with a festive trip to London (where, by the way,
we found a pretty darn authentic Mexican restaurant)
and a visit to Selfridges' Santa, it just doesn't seem
much like Christmas here. My roses are still in
bloom! White Christmas in England refers to the heavy
fog, I think. The stores are filled with lots of
yucky things that English people love to eat. Most
everything they eat at Christmastime is thick, black
and gooey and has a high alcohol content. And not in
in a good way. There are few decorations around. The
decoration of choice is a Christmas tree hung in a
flag pole like device outside of the second story of a
building. It is quite festive and meets my general
approval.

We got our Christmas tree on our way home from London.
We brought almost no decorations with us when we
moved here for a couple of different reasons: First,
I thought I'd fall in love with ornaments here and
could start an all English collection. Second, I was
too lazy last Christmas to pack up all our ornaments
in a way that they could be transported to England
without breakage (Let's face it, I can hardly get them
back into the basement each year without breakage).
Well. The decorations here leave alot to be desired
and are ridiculously expensive (remember we reside in
the land of $8 a gallon gas and $24 toe nail
clippers-I'm serious. Normal cheap toe nail clippers).
Funny thing about Christmas trees is that no matter
where you go in the world, the whole Christmas tree
experience makes you want to have a break down. We
got it home and the stand was too big, the lights were
lame. After a few trips to various stores (the
following day because, of course, all the shops close
at 4:00pm), the tree is up and beautiful and we've
completely forgotten the trouble. Like childbirth.

We've come to another changing of the sports at our
house, so we're off "fitting everyone with new kits".
The boys are quite sad to say goodbye to Rugby season
as they were well suited for rolling around in the
mud, chasing a ball. They are now in field hockey
mode. Siobhan, too, is missing the fast paced field
hockey and will be playing netball. Net ball is like
basketball but without the backboard and you aren't
allowed to dribble the ball. Hmmm. This has the
potential to be another wimpy girls' sport. She is a
bit concerned.

Have a Happy Christmas (so English). Hope Father
Christmas (preferred over "Santa") finds each of you
happy and healthy. Although we will be missing our
family, friends and traditions this year (especially
our ass swinging New Years Eve party where fond
memories were created for both young and old. Like
the year our neighbor, Mark, accidentally lit himself
on fire-good times.), we feel tremendously blessed to
celebrate this season in good health and in true
happiness, in a beautiful part of the world,
surrounded by new friends. God bless.

Cheers!

T-Ann

December 5, 2006

Lately

Good morning!

I'm a little belated in getting my latest installment
out. Can't think of any real reason for this, other
than the fact that I've decided to have a go at
"ladies lunching". You may remember that, initially,
I was bewildered by the amount of lovely ladies
lunching in England. They lunch with grace and
dignity. Their hair is always immaculate, their
handbags match their shoes and always, always they
wear stylish clothes. I decided to forget all of
those details and just go to lunch. So I put on my
"smart" coat which covers up my jeans and sweater (or
"jumper" as they say) and do what I do so well: eat
and drink and chit chat. This came in handy recently.
In all seriousness, a couple of weeks ago we headed
into town to see the end of a concert and to catch the
lighting of the town Christmas tree. A crowd of 4,000
was expected so you can imagine the madness when
40,000 appeared. Unfortunately, by the time anyone
realized, we were swept into the crushing crowd. It
was a nightmare. Thankfully, after what seemed to be
an eternity, we were able to turn a corner and get out
of the mess. The cafe owner where I like to lunch let
us in after hours. We ate a lovely dinner, waited for
the crowds to dissipate and headed safely home.

Moments like this make me question who exactly is in
charge in this country, but then my faith is restored
when, say, the power goes out. In England, when the
power goes out, the stop lights do not work. No
flashing reds. No "understood" four way stops. It
could be truly dangerous, but those polite Brits wave
everyone through even at the most difficult
intersections. Unimaginable!

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving in England. The
school had an assembly and a gathering afterwards for
the American families. During the assembly, the
headmaster described the American flag, that it hangs
in every classroom in America, children pledge their
allegiance to the flag every morning and that it hangs
outside every school. The flag that Cheltenham
College Junior School flies on Independence Day,
September 11 and Thanksgiving once flew over Congress.
I was hoping he would stop, but he continued to the
point that I cried! Then, all the children in school
sang, "Make me a Channel of Your Peace" and I could
barely recover! We spent the evening with another
American family. Fiona (who is actually Irish) cooked
the turkey at her house (no way could I stuff a bird
into my kitchenette oven) and we ate at our house
because their house was too small (as small as our
house is, we have a kitchen and dining room). Very
festive complete with pumpkin pie. It felt like a
real Thanksgiving.

The kids made it through their first exams. This is
an exam based educational system. Exams don't just
cover what a student was taught over the term, but
they cover all that has been covered in the prior
years! The pressure is tremendous. Kids are strung
out, crying, staying up late, studying constantly.
It's unhealthy. Thankfully for our kids, I think this
is completely ridiculous. No one is allowed to be
stressed out about these exams (Well, secretly, me,
but only a little bit and I don't let the kids know).
They study, go to sleep early, eat a good breakfast
and get on with it. Michael and Siobhan must test to
get into senior school in the spring. The tests they
took a couple weeks ago are mock, mock Common Entrance
Exams. It's nuts. The kids have done brilliantly!
Last term, Siobhan received the highest grade in her
class in British History. This term Michael received
the highest grade in the ENTIRE EIGHTH YEAR in British
History! How is that possible from a couple of
Americans? Ryan scored a very high mark in Latin
which he only started last term. This was typical of
their marks, scoring just points behind kids who have
had French since the age of three, for instance. I
don't know what to attribute it to. I'd love to take
credit for our bright children, but maybe it was
Prairie Crossing Charter School that taught them how
to think outside the box and enjoy learning. Maybe
this British system isn't as demanding as it appears.
Maybe our American education system gets a bad rap.
Whatever the case, the children are very proud of all
their marks and Michael and Siobhan are all but
guaranteed entry into "the College" next fall.

We had a very "Pride and Prejudice" moment the other
weekend. Michael slept over at his friend Edward's
house. Driving down the wooded lane and pulling in
front of the house felt as if we had stumbled onto a
movie set. This home was designed by the same
architect who designed the White House. The Cotswold
stone house was a country house for a man whose city
house takes up a full block in Cheltenham and is now a
part of Cheltenham College. Gorgeous. The queen
herself wanted to give this home to Charles and Diana
as a wedding present, but the National Trust took
Charles to court to prevent the purchase on account of
the fact that the view is so spectacular, it would not
be legal to fence it in. The view belonged to "the
people". The National Trust won. This particular
day, Royals were hunting on the property (By law they
must allow the public, and Royals, to hunt and people
are allowed to walk the property. Phyllis tells funny
stories of opening the door in the morning and having
scads of Japanese tourists picnicking and looking in
the windows.). The Wong's purchased this home as a
holiday home as their main home is in Hong Kong. Our
Grayslake home would fit nicely into this home's main,
double staircase. Because it is a family home (They
have four boys. Joe, the father, is Chinese and
spends most of his time in Hong Kong, but the boys
were unhappy boarding at school, so Phyllis moved to
England) it is actually very warm. For those of you
keeping score, Siobhan has now changed her wedding
venue to the Wong's drawing room. (God willing, to
one of their sons...)

I met Jim in Brussels last week. A getaway like this
requires a bit more choreography now that my Number
One Babysitter, Old Reliable (my dear mother) is
thousands of miles away. I had Aidan's sitter come
here and the older kids were treated to five days of
boarding school. They LOVED it. Siobhan sent me a
text message at one point that said we would have to
fight her to come home. We didn't speak with Ryan the
entire time because he was always running in the yard
with his mates whenever we called. Alas, we did rope
them all into returning home and while little could be
better than a year long slumber party, they each
admitted that it was nice to be home. Siobhan, 13
years old going on 30, told me that she would lay in
bed at night thanking God for the experience of
boarding. She realized that she was blessed to be
experiencing something that most American kids never
would. And Ryan was just glad no one made him take a
shower all week.

Jim, who has been traveling for the better part of a
month, will return from the U.S. with my parents on
Saturday. They'll be here for Michael and Siobhan's
first ball next Wednesday and we'll all go to London
before they return home. I need a dose of Mom and
Dad.

Peace,

T-Ann

November 13, 2006

Hello, everyone!

Living abroad for over six months has given all of us
an appreciation for other cultures, yet all that we
encounter in England is processed in comparison to
everything we know in America. There are things back
home that you simply take for granted. I am not
talking about fabulous Mexican food, wide roads or
show of emotions. I am talking about tow trucks.

Parking and driving in every town in England, is a
nightmare. Cars are parked in both directions on both
sides of the street making two lane roads one lane.
In typical British fashion, one polite driver pulls
over to let the other through. No one is bothered.
No road rage. A quick wave of thanks to the driver as
you pass and you're off. It just happens like waiting
in queues forever without the slightest irritation.

Last weekend, however, a small truck parked behind our
house making it impossible for us to leave. We called
the police and they, being good sports, came out and
gave the owner a ticket, but wouldn't tow it! It
would be like someone blocking your driveway (only
imagine two brick walls on either side of your
driveway-not grass), going to London for the weekend
and you not able to have the car removed! Honestly.
Take a moment. Think about how insane this is. The
van's taxes had been paid and, therefore couldn't be
towed! Not even at our expense (we could be sued)!
THREE DAYS WE WERE PARKED IN!

When our street was to be resurfaced, the department
of highway workers dutifully showed up and idled their
trucks in front of our house for hours, but no work
was done. Why? People did not move their cars from
the street even though the signage was up for weeks
posting the start date. NO TOW TRUCKS. NO DENVER
BOOT. Can you imagine that happening in Chicago? On
the street behind us, they actually resurfaced the
street, but around two cars which hadn't been moved.
It makes me crazy!

When I was in college, I went out one Thursday night
(actually I went out a lot of Thursday nights). It
happened to be Holy Thursday. I must have been in a
celebratory mood (What with knowing the ending to the
story~knowing the end of the story makes Easter week,
living museums and birth stories so much more
enjoyable) because Good Friday morning I didn't feel
much like going to class, let alone walking there. I
drove and parked illegally in the campus bookstore
(VBS for all you DeKalb fans out there) parking lot.
I reemerged from class 50 minutes later only to
discover my car missing. It had been towed. I spent
the remainder of my Good Friday scraping money
together, searching for my car and, pretty much losing
my will to live. I learned my lesson and, to this
day, try really, really hard to avoid parking
illegally.

My point is that in a civilized society, cars must be
towed to preserve order. A shared fear moves a
society along. Remember the Metric Scare of the
'70's? Or Michael Jackson?

All continues to go well here. Michael was moved up a
team in rugby, Ryan was made captain of his team and
Siobhan was asked to participate in a field hockey
tournament and suffered her first really nasty injury:
huge hit to the knee. Jim and I went to teacher
conferences Friday evening and I almost have to wonder
why we bother. We have been having the same
conferences over and over, year after year, like we
are living the movie Groundhog Day: Michael would be
a brilliant student if he wasn't so unorganized ("Yes.
We are aware how difficult it is to be successful
when you never have a pencil."). Siobhan is a delight
to have in class ("Yes. They sure are different,
aren't they?") and Ryan talks way too much.

We attended chapel at school last night for a
candlelight Remembrance mass. The British equivalent
to Veterans' Day is a highly respected day. The
chapel at Cheltenham College is magnificent. The
service was quite powerful. The interior of the
chapel is full of brass name plates with former
students who died in action over the last one hundred
plus years (no shortages of wars in England's
history). Those young men were once so much like our
children, sitting in the same pews. Just when I
thought I may be brought to tears Aidan perked up and
enthusiastically said in a loud whisper, "God Save The
Queen!" (I promise you I sang 'My Country Tis of Thee'
in his ear during the national anthem). And there it
was: the loud thump of every Irish ancestor rolling
over in their graves.

That's it for now. As always, I've gone on far too
long. I hope all is well with you and yours. We
think of each of you often.

Love,
T

October 30, 2006

Good morning and a happy birthday to Ryan, my dad,
Sian, Leanne and Jaci! As I am notoriously bad with
remembering birthdays, but not so bad at remembering
lists, I wish more people would buddy up and share
birthdays like this. It is so much easier for me and,
quite frankly, isn't that what its all about?

We are celebrating Ryan's birthday by eating macaroni
and cheese (his birthday choice) and then off to a
wonderful restaurant for dessert. This influx of
carbs will, no doubt, have all of us crashing into
hypoglycemic despair by 8:00pm, but without trick or
treating the following day, it should all even out.
Halloween, we've been told, is merely a blip here.
The college kids, however, were out celebrating in
costumes over the weekend. Siobhan and I came upon
three "devils" peeing between two cars on our side
street Saturday night. I honked the horn hoping to
startle them and thus have them pee all over each
other, but they must have been fairly numb at that
point, because they hardly reacted. Siobhan asked why
college kids were so irresponsible. I said I didn't
know.

We enjoyed our week long half term break. The first
days were tough. Michael and Ryan produced gym bags
filled with wadded up wet swim suits, towels, rugby
socks, rugby shoes, rugby shirts, rugby shorts, gym
socks, gym shoes, gym shirts and gym shorts. If you
could have only smelled the towel Ryan was using to
"dry" himself off... I thought I had made my point
pretty clear three weeks ago, in a very loud and
animated sort of way, that sweaty and moldy gym bags
weren't my cup of tea, but apparently my message
didn't get through. The mold and mildew smell hung
around for days before all the items could be washed
and the gym bags bleached.

Without any definite plans for half term, I woke
enthusiastically one morning determined to get
everyone out of this very small house. When Aidan
woke up I told him that we'd be going to a castle
later that morning. He looked completely underwhelmed
and said, "Oh. A castle." Amazing that almost six
months to the date of our arrival in this ancient
country everyone is tired of castles. Even the three
year old. Needless to say, I dumped the idea.

We did spend two days in London, however. It was good
fun. We first hit the British Museum which is filled
full with stolen artifacts from countries all over the
world. Each section has a clearly chiseled gratitude
stone where they thank some important person for
"donating" all the items. For instance, in the
ancient Greek section (so large it becomes boring
after awhile) Lord So and So is commended for
securing a letter of permission from the TURKISH
government to go into Greece and take whatever he
wanted from the Acropolis and ship it back to England.
Hmmm. Jim and the kids were in Athens last May. The
Brits have a much more extensive collection of Greek
artifacts than the Greeks do. Most "bits" at the
Parthenon, for example, are reproductions. The Brits
still refuse to give anything back. It actually made
me really mad and plus it was gorgeous outside, so we
left the museum after a short time and headed out into
the warm and sunny weather (The weather report when we
left was calling for 90% chance of rain and cool
temps. We have enjoyed a warm and dry autumn here
mainly because I lug an umbrella around. If I have an
umbrella with me and wear a sweater, the skies clear
and it becomes warm.)

We enjoyed the open air double decker buses, parks and
meals outside. There was an obligatory stop at the
Hard Rock Cafe which didn't thrill Jim and I at first,
but we had the best cheeseburgers! I am not
exaggerating when I say that I have not had a medium
rare anything since moving here. I don't normally
order meat or french fries here because they are
terrible. This burger (cooked medium rare, but with
all sorts of eat-at-your-own-risk warnings) was so
good it made me homesick. I started to get all
sentimental and missing guacamole again. God bless
Eric Clapton for donating a guitar to his favorite
American diner in London. The rest, as they say, is
history.

Halloween will be tough for the kids to miss. I
haven't bought any candy as I am told no one trick or
treats (they don't sell fun sized sweets here). The
Brits are almost apologetic for this (as they are with
just about everything-like the weather), but we are
looking forward to Guy Fawkes night on Saturday.
We'll go to a celebration at school complete with a
huge bonfire, burning effigies, fireworks, hot dogs
(no, thank you) and mulled wine. Is there a better
way to celebrate the foiled gun powder plot? You
know, the one 400 years ago where the Catholics tried
to gain control of the English government by blowing
up the Parliament building but whose plan was
discovered and they were all shot, stabbed or hung?
This is why no one in the royal family can be or be
married to a Catholic to this day. Ahhh, those crazy
Catholics. I'll have another mulled wine, thank you.

I start painting lessons this week with my friend and
personal trainer, Kelly (I'm hoping to get her out of
the gym in order to introduce her to the wonderful
world of gluttony and sloth). The painting lessons
are a part of my elaborate get rich quick scheme that
involves not working evenings or weekends, when Jim is
out of town, half term break, term break and summer
break. Also Fridays.

The boys enjoyed watching the Bears play on Sunday
night. We get the games live, which is pretty
amazing. Jim tried to buy Ryan a Bears jersey for his
birthday while at home last week, but there were none
available. Chicago must be in Bear mania! Have a
wonderful American Halloween and eat an extra Dark
Chocolate Milky Way bar (or 13) for me.

God bless,

T-Ann

October 16, 2006

Hi, everyone!

We are enjoying our first autumn in England. The days
are cool (50's and 60's) and mostly clear.
Cheltenham is such happening place to live. This past
week, the literary festival was in full swing. Jim
and I got tickets to see Frank McCourt at our town
hall (a beautiful venue). Frank was very funny and
witty. He talks just like he writes and shared many
great stories that made us realize just why his
Angela's Ashes, 'Tis and his latest novel, Teacher Man
are so popular.

Aidan started his full days of school last week and
Jim and I celebrated by heading down to London. I
felt kind of guilty, but we dropped off our little
Aidan, jumped in the car and the tires almost squealed
in the parking lot as we raced out!

We bummed around London mainly enjoying the difference
in scenery. We stopped at Selfridges Food Hall, and
feeling a bit full of ourselves, decided to indulge in
some exotic, luxury food items. We left with some
Kraft macaroni and cheese, Hersey's syrup and 2 boxes
of Arm and Hammer baking soda (can't get it here and
my little fridge needs all the help it can get with
the smelly cheeses). At $36, it was a real splurge!

The kids are doing well in school. Aidan is adjusting
slowly but surely. I hear him talking to his toys in
French, so they must be teaching him something. He
sings his patriotic lullabies (like You're a Grand Old
Flag and the preamble to the Constitution from School
House Rock) which makes me happy. The head of upper
school hung an American flag up because there are so
many Americans at the school now (I think its up to 7
in the upper school). It has since fallen (Michael
found it on the floor and like a good citizen, picked
it up and handed it in). The headmaster asked if I'd
help with some kind of Thanksgiving
celebration/education, which I thought was quite sweet
and inclusive of him. After agreeing happily, I am
now struck with fear that it may somehow involve
baking.

Ryan scored a try (a goal) in rugby during his last
game. He was one happy boy! Now, of course, he's
even more puffed up than usual and has no problem
micro-managing the guys on his line. He went to an
all day field trip to a battle reenactment South of
London on Saturday. He loved it (although the French
still won). He is trying to grow his hair out, but is
currently sporting an early Paul McCartney/helmet head
"do" that is hard to look at.

Siobhan was chosen to be a monitor! We are very proud
of her. Responsibilities are that of a prefect, a
student supervisor (without having to purchase new
uniform pieces-she wears a special pin, thank God).
She can boss kids around (a personality trait
perfected by age two), give black entries (those
annoying little marks that bring about certain doom if
enough are amassed) and she is called upon to be a
leader in the school. She had to interview for the
position last year. Her housemaster confided in me
that he highly recommended Siobhan for prefect last
term, based on her leadership qualities, but there
might have been a mutiny if "the new girl" swiped the
much coveted position. There were two girls and two
boys selected to be monitors.

Michael continues to work like a dog at school and
rugby. He prefers rugby. He is really getting good,
although he is black and blue all over. He is
learning the differences between American football and
rugby the hard way. The boots' metal cleats are about
an inch and a half long. He has already gotten one
under the knee cap and was kicked on the side of the
face. In rugby, you don't tackle too low and you get
yourself up and out of the way of boots after a
tackle. All the boys at school look like the walking
wounded!

Jim is doing well and enjoying his work. He makes
quick trips to Paris, Milan and Prague and is home in
a day or two. He will be back and forth to the US
quite a bit before the end of the year, but we can't
complain as he hardly travels like he used to back
home. On a recent trip a funny thing happened to him
in the airport. There was a group of six people
following him everywhere. He'd get into a line,
they'd follow. He'd go up to the desk to ask a
question, they'd follow. He went to the bathroom,
they'd follow. Finally, they got up the nerve to
approach him. They thought Jim was the travel guru,
Rick Steves!

Goodbye from the land void of Holloween decorations!

T-Ann

September 28, 2006

Good afternoon!

We're back from our trip to Sweden and Denmark and
have managed to eat our way through two more
countries! This makes us painfully aware of England's
gastronomic (a word they use all the time here which,
actually, makes me feel sick when I hear it)
inferiority. The food is fresh and creative in
Scandinavia, overcooked and involving too many organs
in England.

Our trip started with two days and a night in
beautiful Copenhagen. Scatter my ashes there, please!
The architecture is breathtaking: old, romantic
buildings next to modern buildings that manage to be
clean and organic without being sterile and cold. How
do they do that? The shopping was phenomenal. The
playgrounds are gorgeous, like enormous hand painted,
wooden toys. I've never seen anything so well crafted
and sweet. Bicycles rule in Copenhagen. Thousands of
bicycles everywhere. Devoted lanes (very spacious) on
all streets make it easy to get anywhere. We were
skeptical that leaving the city on a Friday at 5:00pm
would bring us no delays, but sure enough, we didn't
encounter one traffic delay over the bridge back to
Sweden even with a lane shut down for repair. Cars
aren't the prefered mode of transportation. Hard for
us Yanks to wrap our brains around that...

Sweden was not unlike Wisconsin save the
undecipherable road signs and the courteous drivers
who used the left lane only for passing. Volvos for
everyone!! A day in Lund, where my cousin lives, made
me want to throw everything I own out and start over
with colorful, modern versions. Even in this ancient
town, that bright, Scandinavian simplicity was
everywhere. One day, we took a ferry to the island of
Ven where we rented bikes. Ven (which, loosly
translated, means something like, don't look now, but
if you lose control of the bike on this gravel path,
for sure, you and that boy strapped to the back of the
bike, will careen off the side of the cliff) is a
picturesque island scattered with farms and cottages
and darling gardens. The blue sky was cloudless. The
sea glittered, broken up only by the sailboats. Ahhh.
It took me all of about two minutes upon our arrival
home to check out rental details for next summer!

The highlight, though, was undoubtedly, my cousin
Cheryl's wedding. What does the wedding of two
environmentalists look like? Heaven! Cheryl and her
husband Stephan wanted a wedding with the smallest
footprint possible and they achieved that with
stunning success. The wedding took place in a small
village church with the groom's father presiding. The
beautiful bride walked down the aisle wearing her
mother's wedding gown past pews decorated with a
single rose held in place with garden twine. All the
flowers were collected outside the night before and
arranged (I thought professionally) by the maid of
honor the morning of the wedding! There were readings
both in Swedish and English. A beautiful service, but
we should have snagged seats closer to the front. I
wanted to knock over all the tall Swedes in front of
me (In fact, my cousin, Mike, the father of the bride,
was up and down the aisle talking to his wife, Sue and
looking quite nervous before the ceremony. I didn't
realize it, but, he hadn't seen us amongst all the
tall guests and the wedding was being held up as he
waited for our arrival! Finally, he saw us and the
bride made her entrance.). The reception was
exquisite. I was honored to sit at the head table and
happy to not have to supervise Aidan near all the
candelabras (Candlelight is everywhere in Sweden, even
our hotel restaurant was bathed in candlelight each
morning.) The food served was locally produced and
organic. So delicious. We ate course after course,
sang songs and enjoyed toasts until probably 10:30pm.
As guests mingled in an adjoining room (Eleven
countries were represented! All their friends are
gorgeous and friendly. I think they should start a
match making service...) the reception room was
overhauled for dancing and more food! Dancing began
and light snacks (hot dogs with light beer or milk-I
love that!) were served. We left after Ryan fell
asleep at the table about 11:30pm and the party was
just getting started! Mike and Sue got home at
3:30am!

It's funny where life takes you. I remember holding
Cheryl for an entire day at a family reunion when she
was an infant. Twenty-some years later, there we all
are (Mike still filled full with the blarney) in
Sweden together. Being a mere 1 1/2 hour plane ride
away, Cheryl, in Sweden, is my closest relative.
Whodathunkit?

September 20, 2006

World News

In news across the pond, Michael's popularity rating,
while remaining high with the younger generation, has
plummeted with the older, those-who-are-raising-him
age group. He has been shrouded in a cloud of
allegations including constantly losing his school
supplies, not doing what he's been told, keeping
unsatisfactory living conditions on his side of the
room and, what could be seen as his greatest offense,
putting clean clothes into the dirty laundry in order
to avoid putting them away. His initial spin was
twofold: plead the 5th and cry conspiracy theory.
Both were met with harsh criticism. His supporters
are calling for patience assuring the masses that
this, too, shall pass, while his opponents are all but
certain he'll never secure a job and leave home.
After a short retreat, Michael's camp has reemerged
and has made damage control a top priority. With the
eminent threat of the loss of after school sports,
Michael has become dutifully remorseful, but has
stopped short of actually promising to never have it
happen again. This latest spin, while widely agreed
is a first step towards healing, has also been seen by
some as a thinly veiled plan to lay in bed at night
and pray that one of his siblings messes up and takes
the pressure off him. This move, while deserving of
some merit, may prove too bold and risky so close to
his birthday, but, if he intends to make a full
comeback, he'll have to take chances.


Ahhh. That said, the rest of us are doing well.
Aidan continues to not want to go to school and has
asked to return his uniform. Ryan is really cranking
out the Latin and French and is loving rugby. Siobhan
has finally settled in with a really nice bunch of
girls. She is enjoying the challenging academics and
the guts and glory of field hockey.

My dear friend from high school, Colleen left, after
seeing more of Great Britain than we have, but not
before encouraging the kids (this is her claim to fame
and has won her a top spot in the children's hearts)
to practice irreverence for their parents whenever
possible. This is charming. Trust me. Only she can
get away with it.

We are off to the airport tonight to catch a plane to
Sweden in the wee hours of the morning. My cousin,
Cheryl Prindiville, is getting married there on
Saturday. We are so thrilled to be able to attend!

Love,

T

September 9, 2006

Greetings, America!

So tell me. How is Katie Couric doing? Our honorable
former governor George Ryan is off to prison. Tom
Cruise not only showed off his new baby, but made up
with Brooke Shields. Have I missed anything?

Aidan and I enjoyed a quintessential day in the
Cotwolds on Friday. We drove through "chocolate box"
villages, down one lane winding roads to Aidan's
babysitter's new house in the country. It is a
converted farm building. Darling. We took a long
walk collecting wild black berries. It was a perfect
autumn day with a warm sun and crisp temperatures. We
walked through the woods and over a stream, stopping
to play Pooh Sticks (stick races) on the water under
the cutest foot bridge ever. Just like The Hundred
Acre Woods. It left me looking around for Piglet,
Tigger, Owl and friends. Aidan's squealing scared
away all the sheep in a neighboring pasture (I didn't
know sheep could run). We collected berries on
hedges, that, I swear, looked like a post card. The
branches of the berry bushes grew wild and framed the
village down in the valley below. By the time we got
back to Clare's house, Aidan's lips were black with
berry juice and he was exhausted. We came home and
made blackberry and apple (from Clare's tree) crumble.
If that didn't bring on an English accent, I don't
know what will!


The kids started school this week. Aidan is off to a
wobbly start, I'd say. He loves the uniform and being
big, but isn't interested in going to school (two days
a week to start-next year he is required to go five
full days, so we may increase Aidan's days to three
later in the year). Wednesday night he was up from
11:30pm-2:00am with a tummy ache. Shades of Ryan who
had Sunday night tummy aches for two years when he had
a difficult teacher! Aidan begged me not to take him
but, alas, he went the second day (he actually
convinced Siobhan to carry him the entire way to
school). His first day he came home blotchy, with red
puffy eyes from crying. Broke my heart. He did
mention a girl he described as "My special friend. I
love her. I miss her. I want her to come to our
house and we could buy juice and I could share it with
her..." Quite smitten, I'd say. I asked his teachers
about her Thursday, hoping that she could come over to
play one day, but it turns out she was an older sister
of a classmate. She was Siobhan's age. Figures. All
in all, I think he'll make it. I was quite broken up
after I dropped him off. I got my hair cut (Again.
It is officially short.) and bought myself a watch.
Retail therapy. I phoned Jim, who was in Paris, and
told him I thought that he had actually gotten off
pretty cheap. When Ryan went to kindergarten, my
therapy came at a much higher price tag: Aidan.

The big kids adapted seamlessly to their new classes
and routine. Siobhan and Ryan will be taking Latin
and French this year. Michael will stick to the
non-Latin tract spending his extra time fortifying
English and French. I love the autumn and winter
uniforms: Michael in grey trousers, blue and white
pinstriped shirt, tie and navy sweater. Siobhan in a
black watch plaid kilt, light blue shirt, tie and navy
sweater. Ryan in the same grey corduroy shorts, brown
shirt, itchy wool knee socks (he ditched the dreaded
sock garters and takes his chances with black entries
and a note home) and blue sweater. Aidan is in the
identical uniform (but his wool allergy is paying off:
cotton socks). Adorable.


Life is typical at Cheltenham College Junior School.
All three go until 6:00pm each night. Lots of rules.
Michael and Siobhan had an assembly the first day.
The headmaster passionately explained that the
children must be well groomed. He left and the Head
of Upper School, Mrs. Holt, went up and down the rows
of kids pointing out which boys needed haircuts
(notices would be sent home), which children were in
defiance of the critically important No Sleeves Pushed
Up policy, and whose shoes were untied. Mrs. Holt
then proceeded to lecture the children about what a
privilege it is to attend this school. Our kids
should be thinking about all the children in Sri
Lanka, who are very poor but proud of their school
uniforms. Seeing as I had to pay $40 for an art smock
alone for Aidan this term (and what is so wrong with
one of dad's old dress shirts on backwards?) I don't
think Mrs. Holt spent much time thinking about the
fact that those poor Sri Lanken children probably made
our kids' uniforms in sweat shops for a penny a day...

The kids enjoyed a field hockey camp the week before
school started. Siobhan will play field hockey as her
fall sport (finally a REAL sport complete with
bruising) and the boys will play rugby (More curiously
short shorts. What is with the English?) in the fall
followed by field hockey in the winter. Ryan will
play field hockey for fun on Friday afternoons this
term. Jim and the kids played in a pick up game on
Tuesday nights at school towards the end of the
summer. Jim really enjoyed it. He is at his best,
athletically speaking, when competing against 12 year
old girls.

Jim returned from Paris on Thursday. Travel since
this latest terrorist plot has become barbaric. On
his last trip to the U.S., there was a mechanical
failure and they all had to spend the night in an
airport hotel without luggage! United wouldn't
release the luggage, so everyone arrived the following
day wearing dirty clothes. All toiletries must be
checked, so no toiletries either. Yuck. In Paris, on
his return flight, security took away Jim's half eaten
chocolate bar, but allowed him to carry on 6 bottles
of wine. Go figure.


We are eagerly awaiting the arrival of my friend,
Colleen, this weekend. She is another favorite with
our kids. Colleen must be brave. Last summer she
vacationed with us on Cape Cod. Our time there
included rainy days, piercing wind/sandstorms,
oppressive heat, naked native Americans and one case
of projectile vomiting. She proclaimed Jim to be the
most patient man alive after that vacation. Colleen
attributes her desire to remain single and childless
to us. We couldn't be more proud.


Lastly, for those of you early Christmas shoppers, The
Stilton Cheese Makers Association is launching a new
perfume, Eau de Stilton. The PERFECT stocking
stuffer.


Love,

T

August 18, 2006

Hello!

The word in Cheltenham is that the gypsies have
finally moved on. The good people of Cheltenham have
had their undies in a bunch since the gypsies' arrival
in June. Apparently, gypsies are filthy and ill
mannered. They hadn't taken over any parks near us
but I guess the law states that they may not be forced
out of public parks no matter how uncivilized they
are. Michael saw them once earlier in the summer when
he was on his way out of town for a cricket match. He
came home and told me all about how he saw "the
tinkers". That word sucked the air out of me. I
immediately thought it must not be politically
correct. I didn't reprimand him, however. How do I
know what is offensive to the tinkers? I don't even
know much about gypsies. Everything I know, I learned
from the movie, Chocolat and I'll tell you one thing,
if Johnny Depp parked his caravan out in my garden,
you wouldn't hear me complaining.

Our life has slowed down considerably. Michael and
Siobhan have just finished gathering data for their
huge and hideously cruel geography project. They'll
start crafting the drafts tomorrow. I predict this
process will be summarized in two words: living Hell.
Michael types so slowly I have to leave the room.
Both Ryan and Michael have been practicing keyboarding
over the summer. Ryan is really burning up the
keyboard at a whopping 10 words per minute. I don't
think Michael is nearly that fast. My guess is that
Siobhan will be so irritated with Michael's typing
that she'll take over. Thank God.

We did visit the Gloucester Cathedral last weekend.
What a beautiful place. The corridor scenes of Harry
Potter were filmed there so the kids really enjoyed
it, as well. We came home and rented the movie. It
was thrilling to have been to the cathedral and to
know the background of each shot. On a cathedral
level, Jim and I enjoyed this cathedral more than
Westminster or the other big one in London that I can
never remember the name. This was much less creepy
than either of those!

The kids and I also ventured to the store, John Lewis,
in Bristol. John Lewis is like the marriage of Target
and Nordstrom. It has everything you need for
everyday living, but the choices are all high end.
The place was swarming with back to school shoppers.
Even the little boys clothes were darling. The baby
section got me weak in the knees. Handbag department?
Won't even go there. The laundry section was oddly
large and had everything you'd ever need (or think
you'd need) perfectly packaged, to fool yourself into
thinking that laundry wasn't drudgery. Thankfully,
the painful expressions on the boys' faces kept
Siobhan and I on track. She immediately said to me
upon entering, "We need to come back on Saturday,
when Daddy can keep the boys."

Aidan is enjoying his first age-appropriate friend,
Joe. Such a grown up name: Joe. Cracks me up.
Anyway, yesterday, I picked up Aidan who was at Joe's
house for a bit. I came in and there they were,
laying on a bean bag chair together watching a pirated
copy of the new movie, Cars! Gotta love that. Of
course, Aidan wouldn't be building with blocks or
playing with puzzles. No, he'd be watching a pirated
movie. So Aidan. Before we know it, he'll be
loitering with friends outside the 7/11 grumbling
about his curfew.

I am fast and furiously trying to figure out what I
want to be when I grow up. I think I have two weeks
before the kids return to school. With Aidan in
school two (possibly full) days a week, I'm focusing
on coming out of retirement (again). So many options,
so little time! I'm always open for suggestions.

I'm pretty sure autumn has arrived here. We had to
turn the radiators on the other night. Please enjoy
the heat and sunshine for us. I cannot tell you how
much I miss the heat of summer.

Love,

T-Ann

August 9, 2006

Dear all,

We've had another fun filled couple of weeks. The
children's friend Asa was here for awhile which was a
lot of fun. The kids played base tag each night up on
Crickley Hill. Like most things with children, the
parents are the last to know, and apparently we almost
lost Asa down the side of Crickley Hill (more than a
hill, less than a mountain) more than once. It was
really more like kid Fear Factor than tag. The kids
left the hill each night exhausted and covered with
stinging nettle rashes. Good times. The days were
spent plotting to get Asa to move here permanently.

Our friends Devon and Morgan Mann arrived a few days
after Asa's departure. They arrived in the late
morning and just as we were ready to eat lunch, Aidan
pulled on Devon's pants for her attention, looked up
proudly at her and announced, "I just put all the
toilet paper into the toilet!" Same family.
Different country.

I think I can characterize their stay in one word:
cheese. The eating of the cheese was punctuated by a
five mile hike (with the big kids) through fields and
ancient burial mounds nearby, Cheltenham Cricket
Festival at Cheltenham College, drives through
quintessential Cotswold towns, and a trip to
Portsmouth to see the old military ships. All other
parts of the trip involved eating cheese, planning our
next cheese eating opportunity or recovering from too
much cheese. Oddly enough, behind our house, I found
an application for credit from a cheese shop. I find
buying cheese on credit a very curious thing. Is this
a sad commentary on society? Are Brits simply eating
cheese beyond their means? Do these people feel
pressured by their friends and neighbors who have
moved beyond the Cheddars and Swiss into the pricier
Bries and Stiltons? It could be a matter of
convenience, I suppose. An early morning run finds
you near the cheese shop, ravenous and without cash.
I'm not sure I understand. Do they do this in
Wisconsin?

In any event, we had good fun with the Manns. Our
children worship them. Life is kind of like a circus
with Mrs. Mann around. But, sadly, they had to leave.
I'm beginning to see a pattern here that I'm not sure
I fully understood two months ago: our visitors
return home. I think I was hoping that everyone who
visited would be trapped here, like on a computer
screen. A simple double click and they'd be back.
Those goodbyes get to me...

But happily, we have a lot to occupy our time over the
next few weeks. Namely, we get to dive into the 12-15
page, over-the-summer geography projects that Michael
and Siobhan have to complete by the beginning of
school. Can you stand it? I honestly am amazed that
they haven't run away by now. I think the promise of
a new and brutal sport keeps them here: field hockey.
They'll attend a field hockey camp the end of the
month and finally Siobhan will be able to play an
aggressive, fast paced sport. The boys play field
hockey in the winter. Rugby will be Michael and
Ryan's sport of choice this fall.

Aidan is getting more and more excited for school to
start. We purchased his little uniform (same one as
Ryan wears, minus the sock garters). SO cute. He was
a little scared trying on the seemingly endless
pieces. In fact, he burst into tears when it came
time to try on his boiler suit (janitor-like, one
piece coverall the kids wear so as not to get their
uniforms dirty-I would think smocks would suffice).
"Please don't boil me, Mommy!" he was yelling in the
shop. He LOVES his "underpants swim suit" (Speedo)!
A much needed break from his brothers' constant Speedo
whining. He has his school shoes, wellies and
plimsolls (cheap, ugly black Ked-like gym shoes). All
in all, I'd say that Aidan will do well in school. He
needs it more than the the older kids did. By age
three, I realized that Michael would be a wonderful
archaeologist-he was a dinosaur loving boy with
patience beyond his age. Siobhan at three was
creative, organized and bossy: a perfect CEO. Slick
talking Ryan with B.S. up to his eye balls, had all
the makings of a great politician. They still posses
these qualities and I wouldn't be surprised if they
each ended up in these careers as adults. Aidan's
strengths, however, are more in line with that of evil
dictator. Even while learning to pray, he seems to be
characteristically possessing his
one-day-I-will-rule-the-world attitude. He is
learning the Our Father and starts off well enough:
"Our Father. Are you up in heaven?" Its the ending
that has us a bit concerned, "For I am the kingdom and
the power and the Glory forever and ever." I think
the British Prep school will be helpful in smoothing
out those rough edges that I just can't seem to reach.


Ahhh. I best start my day. I've enjoyed writing to
you and watching the eight guys sitting in their van
parked outside our front window drinking tea and
eating biscuits (and now napping). They are with the
department of highways. Yesterday, they closed the
access road to our house and tore it all up. Today
they rest. Good to know, the world over, some things
remain consistent.

Love,

T-Ann

July 31, 2006

Hello, all!

I've been running around with my parents and haven't
written lately. Your inboxes were probably happy to
have a break! I'm back at it again, as my parents
have returned to the States for some much needed R and
R!

My parents arrived in a jet lag fog. The big kids
were in school and Aidan, seeing my mother arrive with
suitcases, assumed that I was leaving and that my mom
was going to babysit for an extended period of time.
He was less than warm in his welcome! The day was
rainy so we went for a drive. My mom and dad loved
the quaint villages, gardens and countryside. Aidan
kept an eye on my dad in the back seat and every time
he nodded off, Aidan would yell, "WAKE UP BOMPERS!"
(the grandchildren call my dad "Bompers" and my mom
"Maga"). Aidan had put himself on official jet lag
patrol: no sleeping until bedtime!

Getting them acclimated to the house meant showing
them where the stray cat lives in our garden and how
to chase him out of the house when he gets in, how to
flush the toilets (each one is different and the
handle fell off altogether when my mom flushed the
first time!), where the lights are and which ones are
temperamental. The hot and cold taps are reversed,
the shower tap needs explanation and you'll be trapped
inside the shower room if the door fully closes. The
smoke alarm goes off when we make toast. When it's
damp, laundry is hung all over the kitchen with fans
blowing on it. We have one regular cut key, the
others are skeleton keys, windows are propped open
with blocks or bricks. No coffee maker, just a coffee
press...It's like living in the fun house at a
carnival!

The Saturday after they arrived, Jim and I left Aidan
with my parents to attend the Parents' Day picnic at
Cheltenham College. We attended chapel in the morning
followed by tea. The clock struck noon and off we
went to the Corinth House marquee (tent) for "house
drinks". It was an elegant affair and the labor was
cheap: the boys were bartending! I did a double take
as a 12 year old classmate of Michael's asked it I
wanted a refill on wine. Of course, it comes as no
surprise that Ryan and Michael rolled up their sleeves
and were right in the thick of it. I find 9-13 year
old boys to be very heavy handed with wine. After
house drinks we tailgated with a few other families.
This was WAY too much fun. The kids participated in a
mile run for charity and the parents continued to
socialize. Later, the headmaster announced the
winning house and it was the kids' house, Corinth!
The Corinth house hadn't won in five or more years. I
attribute it to all the red entries the Pierce kids
earned. The entire day felt like a movie. It was
casual yet elegant with women dressed in lovely
dresses wearing gorgeous and impractical shoes (it was
a picnic, after all- I wore a white linen dress with
my very best, most formal, beaded flip flops) and men
in suits. Tents dotted the cricket pitch, the kids,
all in their Sunday Best uniforms, ran around
celebrating school's end. The rolling hills, wooded
area and pond with vintage row boats and its ornate,
cream colored iron foot bridge and the old brick
school buildings as a back drop were just too much.
At one point, Jim turned to me and said, "How the Hell
did we end up HERE?!"

My parents' stayed for nearly three weeks and we
enjoyed our time with them so much. We went to
Ireland about half way through their stay. Ireland
was in the midst of a heat wave and consequently, we
enjoyed hot and sunny weather the entire stay!
Undoubtedly, we spent more time at the beaches than
most tourists! We stayed at Jim's family's farm.
Jim's grandma (who Siobhan is named after) was born
and raised on this farm. The big kids and I (Jim had
met her several times before our visit) also were
blessed to know Jim's great aunt, Sister Ambrose, who
was also born and raised on the farm. We had the
opportunity to visit and get to know her while we
stayed with her many years ago at her convent in
London. She died just months after our visit. Jim
met Michael Buckley, his great uncle, while visiting
Ireland in 1989. Certainly there is a strong sense of
place at the Buckley Farm. Jim's twin cousins,
Phillip and Michael (Jim's age) each visited us with
their families.

The farm and house were given to Jim's great grandma
and grandpa as a wedding present from her parents (It
is only a farm away from the Pierce's farm and
house-now derelict). It looks typical. White house,
chimneys on both ends. The house has been lovingly
restored and is used by the brothers as a holiday
home. The exterior stone walls are two feet thick and
exposed in some rooms, allowing for deep window seats
and sills. The kitchen is heavenly with its pine
floors and dresser, harvest table, exposed stone walls
and its butter colored cooker tucked into what was
obviously a massive fireplace. Peat is still used in
the cooker for heat. It's a large home and even with
the eight of us and Jim's cousins, there was plenty of
room. The kids played with their cousins on the same
hill that their grand parents and great grandparents
played as children. It doesn't get much better than
that.

We saw breathtaking sites. The Irish coastline on the
Dingle Peninsula in the sunshine could have been
Greece. Green and blue water and rugged cliffs. We
went to Abbey Feale, where the Prindiville family is
from and to a Prendiville pub in nearby Castle Island.
Not sure if
the Prendivilles are related, but it was good for a
pint, anyway! Guinness is so much better in Ireland!

We visited a little old lady, Mary Ellen, a cousin of
the Buckley's who knew the Prindivilles (cousins to
Jim's grandma). Jim and I have known that we're
related since before we were married. (This concerns
the children...) Mary Ellen's sparkling eyes, brogue
and her 90+ years makes her cute as can be. Never
mind that it was before noon on a Sunday: we're
shuffled into her ancient parlor and out comes the
whiskey! She told my dad about his relatives in
Limerick who sold their farm because, "they weren't
fond of the work". That was good for a belly laugh!
We walked down to the end of the lane to a well/stream
where pilgrims have been coming for thousands of years
to drink the cool, clear water that is supposed to
cure throat and eye problems. My mom filled up all
the water bottles we had in the car-maybe that will
cure her cataracts! Mary Ellen put on her best dress
and hat and we took pictures.

The most memorable part of the trip was, hands down,
the good crack (lively conversation) and occasional
ghost story, shared each night around the harvest
table. Lots of stories and laughter. Kids, dogs,
cats getting "shooed" outside, cows and the Shannon
River in the distance and a Buckley VS Pierce,
disturbingly competitive soccer game (We had to donate
a kid to their team to even things out. We were
weighted down a bit by our three year old team member,
but Aidan was countered by the Buckleys' small
horse-sized puppy who played on their team and who bit
Siobhan in the rear end at one point-I told you it was
competitive!). All made for an unforgettable
vacation.

Spending time with my parents was just what I needed.
They enjoyed being here and seeing the kids. They
thought Michael had really matured, they loved seeing
the normally mature, Siobhan, acting silly and were
amazed at Aidan's speech. My dad managed to laugh
'til he cried almost every night as he sat back and
watched what he referred to as the T and Ry show.
Ryan is a talker and is INCAPABLE of doing what he is
asked without stopping (or never starting) to talk
about something that is completely irrelevant (his
piano teacher Adel, can attest to this, as can his
school teachers- I feel for them). I remind him 10
times to get back to fill-in-the- blank: sweeping,
washing dishes, taking out the garbage, getting into
the shower, going to bed, etc. Doesn't matter what it
is, Ryan must stop and say, "Just one more thing. Did
you ever see the Tom and Jerry where the cat...". It
made for some very funny evenings, but as I search the
dark and dusty corners of my mind, I do not recall one
time as a kid when not following directions was met
with such laughter on my father's part! My dad
assures me its only funny because Ryan is MY son and I
have to raise him!

It was hard to say good bye to my parents. Aidan
started wailing as they pulled out of the driveway!
Obviously, he warmed up at some point! Jim dropped
them off at Heathrow and picked up Asa Goldsmith a
friend of the kids from back home. Asa was spending
time with both sets of British grandparents near
London and is here for 4 or 5 days. The kids are in
heaven. Lots of kid giggles and 10-12 year old humor
going on. Caught them in a spitting contest out the
3rd story window. Yuck.

Love,

T-Ann

July 5, 2006

Hello, all!

I trust you all had a wonderful 4th of July. I hung
American flag bunting across the front of the house
and the kids went off to school. It was sports day at
school (the afternoon spent competing in various track
events) so the day had a different fun filled feel, at
least. The school flew the American flag-loved that!
We came home and grilled brats (from Costco-the most
American place here outside the American Embassy in
London). Siobhan informed me that it was the worst
4th of July she'd ever had. I agreed with her and
then she told me it annoys her when I agree with her
like that. Hmmm. Thankfully, we are now on the 5th
of July and our moment of self-pity has passed.

Last week, Jim took Michael and Ryan up in a four
seater plane that was piloted by a colleague. The men
all enjoyed the views of the cotswolds and while the
pilot avoided flying directly over GCHQ (the British
version of the CIA building here in Cheltenham), they
were able to fly near it and it was pretty cool. Its
in the shape of a donut-all steel and glass. Everyone
here assumes that Jim is working for the GCHQ. Its
the first thing people ask when they hear the accent
and find out we are residents, not tourists. This
pleases Jim to no end. He does this really bad, suave
voice (like he is James Bond) and says, "If I told
you, I'd have to kill you..." This coming from a guy
whose most dangerous mission each day is getting the
Volvo out of its parking spot! Anyway, the boys had
great fun flying, stopped for a pint on the way home
(which both Michael and Ryan love to say) and, as
Siobhan and I will take our turn in the small plane
next, I've started praying we don't meet anyone who
owns a hot air balloon!!

We also joined the Sandford Park Lido which is a very
dignified way of saying, "Public Pool". It is a
wonderful old facility. Built in the 1930's, it has
retained a very nostalgic feel. It reminds me of a
venerable country club. Hedges, fountains, flower
gardens, flagstone pathways, red tiled roofs,
manicured grass. Having said that, I assure you
that not one of you has ever swam in a pool as crowded
as this pool gets. It is the only outdoor pool around
for miles. EVERYONE was there during our recent heat
wave (85-90 degrees for days). The lack of parental
supervision rivals McDonaldland play areas, only with
water, but Aidan loves the children's pools (made
before the concept of zero depth or people suing for
falling onto flagstone surrounds), so I'll be happy to
take him. Jim and the big kids weren't as
enthusiastic as Aidan and I were. Apparently, there
was one too many floating band aids in the big people
pool.

The heat wave was lovely. It was perfect summer
weather. The only day it really got to me was
Thursday, when I spent 4 1/2 hours defrosting my tiny
little European freezer. It was so hot outside, the
sun from my conservatory beating in on me and there I
was with steaming pots of water, scraping the inside
of the freezer. I felt like I was in some kind of a
time warp. Who defrosts appliances anymore? I felt
like going home and apologizing to my cramped
side-by-side that I have wished would die since the
day we moved into our house. Lesson here: don't take
for granted your spacious, self-defrosting freezers!
Don't take for granted a fridge that can hold more
than three meals!

We went to Blenheim Palace on Sunday and enjoyed a
picnic. Blenheim is the birthplace of Winston
Churchill and is still a family home. It was
breathtaking. I've decided that I'm more of a palace
kind of girl than a castle kind of girl. Castles are
too drafty. Truth be told, though, the interior
decorator that lives inside of me really wanted a go
at the boat house. What a glorious conversion I could
do...

My parents come tomorrow! I cannot wait! It will be
fun to share our new life with them. The kids will
give them a tour of the school and we'll bum around
the cotswolds. My mom is used to being holed up with
our kids for long periods of time. My dad, not so.
We'll put him in charge of the grill. No doubt
they'll return to the States with a heightend
appreciation for peace and quiet!

Saturday is the last day of school for the kids.
Summer officially begins for the Pierces.

God Bless,

T-Ann

June 27, 2006

Good Morning Everyone!

I have a new email address. Our SBC account closed.
My new address is:
tapierce14@yahoo.com. I enjoy every newsy and
not-so-newsy email I get from you!

It has been all about Michael and Siobhan this week as
they enjoyed two school related overnights in one
week! British prep school at its finest. The first
overnight was an "outdoor experience" or as normal
people call it: camping. The kids enjoyed lots of
out door activities and then camped on the campus of
Cheltenham College right in front of the headmaster's
home as chance (?) would have it. They had a blast.
They were poorly chaperoned by "gappies" from New
Zealand. Gappies are kids in their "gap" year or year
off between senior school and university. Not all
kids take advantage of the gap year, but any kid who
is lucky enough to convince their parents that his/her
life will be richer by backpacking through Europe or
taking an easy job in another country and drinking for
a year has the time of their lives. So anyway, there
were a couple of teachers, but mostly the gappies were
supposed to be keeping all the 12 year olds in line.
Well, the gappies drank so much (mixing beer and
champagne I understand from Siobhan) they passed out
and the headmaster himself had to come out at 1:30a.m.
and 3:00a.m. to tell the kids to stop playing football
and go to bed. The kids woke up in the morning and
because they were hungry, finally had to wake up the
gappies who were, shall we say, "sleeping in"! Hard to
imagine a world where that can happen and people don't
lose their jobs the next day.

Our interviewing process for the schools here was
grueling. Each interview was four hours long (we
interviewed four schools). Cheltenham College's
interview was more than 6 1/2 hours because we liked
it enough to set up a separate interview at the senior
school. Believe me, there was plenty of time to ask
questions. At Dean Close, another fine prep school, I
asked about drug use. The answer didn't surprise me.
They didn't tolerate it, blah blah blah. When I asked
about underage drinking (the drinking age is 21), the
housemaster replied, "Well, we monitor how much we
give the kids and always offer non-alcoholic options."
So there ya go! I was stunned! Jaw on the ground.
That is Cheltenham College's policy as well, but by
the time we got to that interview, I was able to hide
my disbelief. And don't think I can't hear all of you
chuckling about my concern over underage
drinking...its different when its your own kids!

Saturday, the boys and I spent the day at our friends
the Shortts house out in the country (Siobhan was off
with friends). Their home has the most spectacular
views of the cotswolds. The boys, along with Charlie
Shortt, the very cool 14 year old friend, disposed of
a dead fox on their property. This was done by
stabbing it with a pitch fork and tossing him into the
woods. In Boyland, its pretty hard to top that and
just when the day couldn't get any better, Dennis
Shortt (the dad) took us all for a helicopter ride!
It was wonderful. At first, I was a bit nervous.
Lets face it, the newspaper articles always start
off, "It was supposed to be a fun sight seeing ride,
BUT...". I relaxed after seeing how beautiful the
countryside is from the air! The manor homes,
castles, hillsides, sheep, poppy fields and lavender
fields in bloom...It all made me realize that there
are worse ways to go than plummeting to your death
into a field of English lavender! Ryan, the night
before, told me that he was missing living in a
neighborhood, running around with all his friends
during the summer. That evening, he told me it was
one of the best days of his life! There are trade
offs.

Sunday, Michael and Siobhan went to the senior school
for their "24 hours". It is actually, a 28 hour taste
of life at the senior school intended to have the kids
have so much fun, they choose to go to senior school
at Cheltenham College. They had the whole senior
school at their disposal and did all sorts of sports
and fun activities. They slept at their prospective
"houses". The houses are alot like our fraternities
and sororities. They are free standing beautiful
homes run by housemasters (well Queens, Siobhan's
house, is lovely anyway. Southwood, although beautiful
from the outside, is like a sparsely furnished frat
house without the stale beer smell). Being day
students, they go there to do homework, practice
piano, eat, change into sport uniforms, relax,
hangout, etc, but not to sleep over normally. The
kids had so much fun and were WELL supervised. Just
before he left to go to the 24 hours, Michael realized
he lost his track suit bottoms which he was supposed
to be wearing (actually, he accused ME of losing them
which I found to be a new and interesting twist on the
taking-responsibility-for-your-actions policy) so life
here at home was a bit ugly before he left, thus
making boarding school life even more appealing than
it already is! And, it was bound to happen to one of
us in public sometime: Siobhan was served spotted
dick as a snack. There are so many jokes there I
won't even waste your time...

Life at school is winding down. The house
competitions at school, however, are heating up. Like
in Harry Potter, each child belongs to a house (in the
junior school there isn't a physical "house" they go
to). Our kids belong to the Corinth House. The
houses compete for points throughout the term. House
sporting events earn you points as do red entries
(getting caught doing something good). Demerits (like
getting caught with those pesky, droopy, wool socks or
mud on your trousers) will lose your house points.
Both Ryan and Michael have earned red entries for
their houses. Siobhan has not and you can imagine how
much this bothers her! The last day of school is
parents day and the last day of competition. The
families all picnic together (aging rock stars,
fashion moguls and the Pierces) and the kids change
into their house competition uniforms and compete for
their final points. It is so Harry Potter! Hopefully,
there will be no dragons to slay. Truth be told,
Corinth isn't even close to winning, but it is really
storybook, nonetheless.

Jim returned home safely from the States last night
with bags bursting with tennis racquets, books and
sheets (much cheaper back home), lots of cinnamon
which we cannot get here and Dunkin Donuts French
Vanilla coffee. My world just got a little better!

Lots of love,

T-Ann

June 18, 2006

Dear all,

I hope all you fathers out there enjoyed your special
day. We had a nostolgic day in the Forest of Deans
riding on an old steam engine. Aidan was in heaven!
Certainly one highlight was the gift store that had in
stock every Thomas the Tank engine thing you could
ever imagine. I cannot begin to describe Aidan's pure
joy. Look around your room right now. I can
guartantee that anything you can name has been made
with a Thomas the Tank Engine logo. Thankfully, we
were able to pull him away pretty easily when it was
time to watch the steam engine roll into the station.

Michael and Siobhan are packing for their overnight at
Cheltenham College. It is a camping experience quite
different from Prairie Crossing Charter School! The
list of items to bring is mind boggling despite the
fact that all camping equipment is provided! Posh,
posh! In Prairie Crossing, the kids are encouraged to
bring as little as possible on their camping trips.
They are there for the environmental aspect. They run
with sticks. Very old fashion. Here, for one night,
they need three sweatshirts, three pairs of pants,
shorts, pajamas, hat, mittens, camping pads, sleeping
bags, insect repellent (?) sun screen, bathing suit,
towel, toiletry bag, I could go on. They will have
fun, though, and are doing lifesaving and kayaking (in
the swimming pool) among other activities.

Ryan was able to play in two cricket matches this
week. He is rarely seen without his cricket bat. He
just loves the game. Aidan and Ryan share this love
and together they play cricket in our garden almost
every night. Aidan with a bat (albeit plastic) is
scary and downright dangerous, but Ryan is very
patient and I love to watch them play together. The
highlight of Ryan's week was playing in the away match
on Saturday: he got to ride on the coach busses!
Additionally, the tea at the school they played was
"the best". They served jelly donuts, chocolate
sandwiches, chips, popsicles (ice lollies), juice and
hot dogs.

Things around Cheltenham are still all about the World
Cup. Last time England played, I kept hearing this
low noise. Hardly audible, but irritating- like a
motor running constantly. I couldn't figure it out
until I went outside and walked down the block. The
noise was an entire city singing an unsynchoronized
chorus of the England Fight Song! After the win, the
shirtless men and their girlfriends sporting tissue
tee halter tops and fake tans stumbled down our street
singing at the top of their lungs. Aside from that,
the latest news is that the post man's bike was stolen
and a man named Paul John George Ringo Crawford was
charged with robbing a man outside the Burger King.
We must be in England.

Currently, we are having the hallways painted in the
house. The sherbert green walls that I honestly
thought I could live with haunted me. Had to go.
Couldn't do two years with them. Now they are a
beautiful historical white in keeping with the
Regency townhouse that it is. I can already feel the
house stretching and moaning and coming alive with its
makeover! It so badly wanted to be stately and
elegant again! The halls go up four flights so this
will be so much more cheerful and will be a nuetral
background for all our priceless art (note to self:
must buy priceless art...) Most importantly, it will
allow our french door that leads into our back garden
to really "pop". Currently, it is shrouded in green
and the beautiful garden out back is lost.


Our garden is very English. It is walled on all
sides. Ivory and pale pink roses, flowers in shades of
purple and at least four different types of ancient
ivy grow wild up the sides. Clearly this ivy has
remained undisturbed for generations until we moved
in. A few weeks ago, a cricket ball (larger than a
golf ball, smaller than a tennis ball) got lost in the
ivy and the boys ripped down a section in their
pursuit of it. Thankfully, I came out in time to stop
the massacre (and then started my own). Cricket balls
have now been replaced with cans of used tennis balls
(so as to ensure little to no bounce!) purchased at
the thrift store around the block.

We sit outside with a glass of wine at night and
listen to the church choir practice or the classical
music from the lovely and very civilized middle aged
couple's home next door. The cat who adopted us sits
at our feet. We drink in the fragrant roses and
flowers and relax. So peaceful. Then, like a needle
screeching across your favorite album, the children
discend with their sporting equipment and their needs.
The rest of the evening is spent guarding our drinks
and heads from various fly balls and disciplining
those that are still prone to throwing rocks. We have
just ordered a sweet bistro set (soft green). Not too
fussy and best of all, it will allow us to put our
drinks up on a table and at least LOOK civilized!

Ahh. I digress into an Under the Tuscan Sun moment.
Without the recipes. I miss my dad this Fathers Day.
We are looking forward to my parents arrival in a few
weeks. I was, at first, feeling pressure to find the
perfect pub for my dad to "get to know the locals".
Then I realized its always good to give guests a
job...

Jim is in the States this week so if you see a guy
that looks like him, it just might be him. An
emergency poker game has been called.

Love,

T

June 12, 2006

Hi!

We finally have gorgeous summer like weather here with
temps in the 80's and lots of sun. It is wonderful.
I find it perfect, but Jim is out buying fans as we
speak.

The sun, coupled with the start of the World Cup has
brought new life into Cheltenham. First of all,
people are just as crazy about their soccer as we
think they are. Yesterday, Michael had a home cricket
match at the same time England played in the World
Cup. As we walked to school, it was almost eerie: no
cars on the street, no people, no noise at all (until
they won). We just needed some tumbleweed to complete
the effect. Two hours later I walked home (before the
cricket match ended-I'll get to that later) and the
town was hopping! Lots and lots of drunk English men
and women about! Mostly men without shirts. Everyone
complaining, that while England won, they did it
poorly. World Cup continues through the summer.

I left Michael's cricket match early because I
honestly could not sit one more minute. A boring
lecture in college still meant that you had pen and
paper to doodle. This was terrible. I left before
tea. (Jim said the parents had a nice spread for tea.
They make the kids eat at the other end of the pitch,
with lesser quality foods!) I'm thinking a cooler of
cold beverages could really help move the game along
for us next time. One dad we were sitting with said
that even the clapping for your team is done in a lazy
way. Specifically, he corrected Jim as Jim clapped
too enthusiasitcally, "No. Even the clapping is slow
and lazy. Don't put any life into it." Jim didn't
make the end of the game, either. Four or more hours
is just too long.


The best part of the weather is that I'm now observing
a most curious cultural phenomenon: ladies lunching.
This looks NOTHING like Devon and I racing over to the
hospital cafe in Prairie Crossing for the world's best
tuna melts and kettle fried potato chips every chance
we could. This is refined. These are lovely women in
floral dresses with matching shoes and purses. They
have perfetly done hair. They walk by our house and I
want to stare! Even if Devon grew her hair into a
suberbly coiffed bob (wouldn't you like to see that!)
and I traded in my comfortable Dansko and Birkenstocks
for slingbacks and strappy sandals, we could never
pull off "lunching". These women have it in their
blood. Like blue eyes or blond hair. They have the
ability to "lunch" because their mothers lunched as
did their grandmothers before them. I want to observe
them, but can't get too close. I pretty much eat cold
pizza and get to the next item on my things to do
list! All that preparation seems like a lot of effort
just to eat. Interesting to watch, but I'll have to
leave this one for the Brits.

Michael and Siobhan had a dance on Friday night. Very
cute. Very bitter Ryan stayed behind. I'm not sure
who wants to be older more Aidan or Ryan! M and S
each had friends over before hand. It was nice to
have a lot of kids in the house like we used to and
nice to get to know their friends. We'll have some of
Ry's friends over next weekend.

This week is Aidan's 3rd birthday. Without meaning
to, his gifts became quite British: a wooden double
decker bus, a plastic cricket set and his own tea pot
(for decaf tea-he loves it with milk and honey and
actually has become quite demanding regarding it!)

Have a great week and start of the summer for all you
with kids out of school. Additionally, I'd like you
all to know that my cousin Michelle who was diagnosed
with the brain tumor has received good news: it is
not malignant. Thank you for praying for her!

Love,
T

June 4, 2006

Hello, all!

We our home from our wonderful time in Skiathos,
Greece. The island was small and picturesque. It
was filled with pine trees, which we thought
surprising. It reminded us of Alaska, that kind of
rugged beauty, only with beautiful seas of green, blue
and turquoise surrounding it. We enjoyed perfect
weather. No rain! Our flight was less than three
hours! Hard to believe!

We arrived and were dropped off about a quarter of a
mile from our hotel. The gravel road was too narrow
and winding for the bus to maneuver. It was a pretty
road (that really reminded us of the area near Jim's
cousin Paul and his wife Ginny's home in Willow
Alaska) heavy with the scents of wild flowers and
roses. Heavenly. The hotel was a small complex of
small studios of white stucco and red tile roofs with
a bar and pool. There was alot of space for the kids
to play. We settled in and got right down to the pool
to enjoy the sunshine and a cool beverage. We had our
first experience of just how highly revered children
are in Greece when almost immediately, the boys, who
were playing soccer in a grassy area near the pool,
kicked a soccer ball into Jim's beer bottle and glass
(poor Jim!) shattering them into a thousand pieces all
over the ground and into the swimming pool itself.
The bartender jumps over with broom and assures me
that if its good luck to break a wine glass in Greece
it must be good luck to break a beer glass. And the
person stepping on the glass in the pool? Not so much
luck...


Honestly, though, the children were highly regarded.
Everywhere were comments on our large family and blue
eyes. Aidan especially was treated like a king!
Everyone wanted to touch and stroke his white hair!
After an infancy spent with doctors, chiropractors,
physical therapists and cranio sacral therapists all
manipulating his skull, he is very sensitive to people
touching his head! He grew so used to it, he wouldn't
even notice after awhile! It was sweet.

Our first morning we attended a short informational
gathering. The man speaking had a map of the island
and was helping to get us oriented. He pointed out
where the nude beaches were. I thought Aidan wasn't
paying attention when he commented loudly, "I like to
be naked". Ryan wanted to die. Speaking of nude
beaches, Jim was all prepared with a pair of really
dark sunglasses. He had, undoubtedly, created a
topless episode of Baywatch in his mind. Quite the
contrary. It was much more like an "R" rated episode
of The Golden Girls. The all day season finale where
Betty White and friends hook up with aged men and
spend the day at the beach changing and being topless
and doing lots of things that you'd do if you were
naked/nearly naked and elderly at the beach: undress,
reach, stretch, walk around, smoke, bend down for the
novel you dropped, re-dress, etc. Nothing that we
didn't mind having the boys see! Wasn't really going
to be anything to build a dream on, that was for sure!
Jim was famous for saying things like, "Siobhan!
Don't turn around!" Of course, she'd turn around only
to see an old man pulling on his Speedo. Yuck. No
courtesy 180 degree turn? Jim had such high hopes.
His one word summed it all up: Brutal.

One day, Jim took Michael, Siobhan and Ryan to Athens
for the day. Two hours by boat, two hours by bus and
then to see the Parthenon. An amazing experience for
them. A chance of a lifetime. They will probably
appreciate it more as they get older. What an
opportunity. Meanwhile, Aidan and I went into town to
dutifully pay homage to the Greek God of really cheap
shoes.

While in Athens, thankfully, Jim and the kids were
unaffected and, in fact, weren't even aware, there
was a terrorist attack. A bomb went off in the city
sending debris for up to 20 meters. Tragic. When I
packed for the trip, I ended up putting away some of
the clothes the boys had put out for themselves. They
had some British football jerseys and American looking
shirts. I put them back chosing plain t-shirts. I
didn't want to stand out any more than we already did.
No American flag shirts. Siobhan saw one man in
Skiathos Town (the main town) with a t-shirt that had
a picture of the twin towers with the Nike swoosh that
read, JUST DO IT. Frightening.

On a lighter note: Our hotel room was awful! Because
I am famously cheap and I planned the trip, we learned
a cruel reality: Do not go cheap in Greece.
Apparently, most accomodations are simple there. Go
cheap and you are now one step from camping only
without the basic essentials. I got a serious talking
to from Jim who really believes that he has arrived to
a place in his life that he doesn't want to stay in a
place where "the first roll of toilet paper is
complimentary". Yeah, it was pretty bad. Even I was
grossed out and had to swear to not be so cheap in the
future...we'll see. We had four hand towels for all
our toweling needs for 7 days! I did bring our own
beach towels. The beds were really like cots. You
made your own beds and the blankets were wool. I'm
guessing they weren't dry cleaned with each new guest.
Because there were too many of us for one room, we
had to split up and the room Ryan "called" (because
it was bigger, of course) for the boys ended up with
unpleasant smells (I'm being polite) accompanied by
sewer problems. At one point, three sewer caps were
opened in front of their room and were emptied by
hand. All day. Into buckets. There was nothing to
do but laugh and thank God for my patient husband!

This was a small price to pay, I reminded everyone, to
spend a week near a beach that is considered the most
beautiful in Greece and always ranks among the top ten
most beautiful beaches in the world. No hotels on the
beach, so it feels secluded. Besides, the food was
fabulous! Michael ate nothing but squid and octopus!
After a couple of months in England, we were missing
really tasty food!

That's all! If I can get my personal assistant and
professional social butterfly to show me how to post
pictures, I'll send some photos of the Pierces on
holiday.

Love,

T-Ann

May 25, 2006

Good morning!

Surley, the excitement of the upcoming Cheese Rolling
Contest is felt around the world? I do know that
Monday (another bank holiday for us) it will be on all
the US news stations as their "human interest" story
at the end of the broadcasts. Every year it is
mentioned and every year I would think, "What kind of
people live in a town where they run down the side of
a hill, after a wheel of cheese, for fun?" Now I
know. WE live there.

Since living here, it has become much more than a
human interest story for me. I know the rules (There
are none). I know the object (Not to actually CATCH
the cheese, but to be the first make the bottom of the
hill, after the cheese, with all the bones you arrived
with intact and tucked safely into your skin). There
are tons of broken bones each year. One man dominates
the event and has won most every year since he was 18.
He is now in his forties. His family is so proud.
But what I couldn't appreciate before we moved here
was the motivation: the winning of the cheese wheel!
I LOVE Double Gloucester cheese! Who wouldn't?! It
is fabulous and to win a WHOLE WHEEL of it? Please!
Worth every bit of pain, not to mention bragging
rights...

Sadly, we will not be here for the High Holiday.
While it was difficult to discern, we have decided to
spend a week on the Greek isle of Skiathos, instead.
These Yanks need some vitamin D. It has been raining
some brutally cold, Seattle-in-November rain. For a
week. Everyone here apologizes about the weather as
soon as they hear my accent. They all swear that it
is highly unusual. It is bone chilling and you come
home dripping wet. This rain looks straight at your
umbrella and laughs in a very sinister way. It is
evil-secretly plotting to break everyones' spirits...
Our gutters backed up and leaked into Siobhan's room.
So nice to shrug your shoulders and have it be the
landlord's problem. In Tewkesbury, there are stranded
tourists unable to get out of town due to flooding.
We looked at a home there, and were made aware that
the kids would have to board at school if the river
began to rise and threatened to flood. They'd be
boarding now (this infuriates Ryan who so desparately
wants to board). Yesterday, I had four or five inches
cut off my hair because I was so sick of drying it
everytime I went out! This is serious. Thank God for
tea and shortbread cookies. They are my refuge.

We'll return on June 2nd with all sorts of stories
that only flying on a small charter plane (with
small-charter-plane-phobic Jim) and vacationing on an
island where you aren't allowed to flush toilet paper
can bring.

Wish me luck!

Love,

T-Ann

May 19, 2006

I have been quickly corrected, mainly by loved ones
with, I personally think, too much time on their
hands. First of all, my cousin, Billy, an architect,
informs me the Roman Baths were built in the 1st
century AD. If I have painted too graphic of a
picture for you, you should think toned, muscular
Roman warriors. Now. Go finish your lunches.
Secondly, Dennis, was concerned that I was having
trouble writing "checks" not "cheques" as I should be
spelling them. Jim is concerned that I have offended
sweaty, hairy Italian men the world over. So, I do
apologize if I offended anyone that fits this
description in the writing of this email. Lastly, I
hear from our dear friend, and British prep school
survivor, Richard, that this school will indeed make
the kids well adjusted. While I respect him and his
opinion, he has taken QUITE A FEW hits to the head
while playing a lifetime of rugby. And maybe a
cricket bat to the side during recess!

I stand corrected. Have a great day.

T

May 18, 2006

Hello, Everyone!

Its a sad and rainy day here as Sir Paul McCartney and
his wife Heather announced that they will be
separating and working toward a quicky divorce. No
prenup. EVERYONE told him to get one. Lots of
chattering going on about this. "Can you believe, NO
PRENUP?" A much bigger story than the Queen's 80th
birthday. At 80 years of age, its hard to villanize
the Queen. Heather on the other hand...To cheer
myself up, I bought a beautiful bouquet of pink
peonies, the sun came out and I think I'm over it all
now. Whew!

We enjoyed a visit to Bath last weekend. Touring the
ancient Roman baths that were built almost 2,000 years
before Christ was born (I think. Aidan was kind of
distracting) was an amazing experience. You can drink
some water that has been filtered (it tastes awful)
and, if you disregard the signs telling you NOT to
touch the water, you can reach into the bath itself
and feel its warmth. I was really thrilled with the
whole day until we went to a pub for lunch and just
before we ate, I got this horrifying vision of all
these gross, naked, hairy Italian men all packed in
there taking a steamy bath. It almost ruined my lunch
(the fish and chips were too good, though)! Anyway,
the Roman Baths will never be the same for me. Glad I
could share...

Overall, we are doing well adjusting. Writing checks,
buying gas and slowly realizing that an umbrella is
crucial even if it's hot and sunny are things that I
never thought I'd ever have trouble learning. I
always seem to be at the mercy of shop owners and
others to help me out. I had to leave my pride back
in the States, it seems! Easily the biggest
adjustment is the culture at the school.

I want to preface all this by reminding everyone that
the kids attend a VERY traditional school. This is a
school that even the British consider conservative,
so not all British schools would be like this. Having
said this, I sometimes wonder what world we've stepped
into!! Cheltenham College is in the business of
churning out well educated, well rounded ladies and
gentlemen. They are extremely strict about some
things. Children must be well groomed. They think
it's very important that the little boys not let their
itchy wool socks droop at their ankles. Pushing up
the sleeves of your hot sweater (it's gotten in the
upper 70's here) is not tolerated. The girls must
have their hair pulled back and nothing but silver or
gold studs in their ears. The kids jump up and stand
at attention when an adult enters the room (LOVE THIS!
We've tried implementing this policy at home but with
some pretty pathetic results). Boys and girls are
quite segregated in terms of lack of group projects,
playing at recess, sports, etc., so there is a marked
drop in maturity levels in dealing with the opposite
sex compared to their counterparts back home. This is
particularly difficult for Michael and Siobhan who are
used to sharing a ton friends and having a full house
all the time. The teachers can yell, call kids names
and even hitting (while frowned upon) will not get you
fired. Of course not all teachers are like this.
They have some amazing teachers. The kind they make
movies about! What they are completely lax about is
supervision. The kids are not supervised for 45
minutes at recess (even if it is indoors due to bad
weather). They are unsupervised during the changing
times before and after gym. Kids can get bullied
during these times and it is considered a part of
growing up. I mean SERIOUS bullying. Again, it is
not condoned, but I had a teacher in the senior school
tell me (after I told her I was appalled by this) that
she didn't understand what I meant. How could
children work out their problems if adults were
present? She could not believe that I could have a
problem with this. HUGE cultural difference. Hard to
wrap my head around it. So you'll get in trouble if
your tie is crooked or your socks have fallen down,
but on the playground there is no adult to monitor
behavior. Wow. It is truly a different world from
what we are used to. I had a highly charged meeting
with the headmaster regarding this. He was
sympathetic and I do believe he is trying to solve
these problems (he recognizes them as problems) but
his hands are tied in some ways. There is HUGE
partental support for this kind of education and that
is why little has changed in the 170(?) years of the
school.

The flip side to this is that the kids really learn!
They are held to high standards. They take Latin
(Siobhan only this term), French, chemistry, physics,
math, English, geography. And the kids are even
realizing the benefits of uniforms (for instance our
kids look just like the kids getting out of the
Maserati in the morning!) Siobhan likes the fact that
there are minimal distractions in the classroom. It
allows her to concentrate. Where did she come from?
Jim and I both donated the "too much fun" gene, not
"overachiever" gene. Somehow one must have snuck in
from my mom's side.

By the way, I was at the travel agent trying to book
our "half term" holiday. We'll need to take the kids
out of school one day. The agent told me I had better
get permission from the Headmaster before I take the
kids out! "You've got to be kidding!", I shrieked.
Nope. Had to go in, ask permission and was told that
they do not condone such behaviour, but because I
didn't know any better, they'd allow it this time.
They can fine you! Unbeliveable. Makes me want to
take the kids out early every holiday. Without
asking. Can't wait til next time: all four kids will
have the flu...

The parents I have been meeting are wonderful. Most
are very down to earth, funny and welcoming.
Occassionally, I find myself in a conversation that
starts something like this, "Isn't it hard to find
good staff these days?". I think," Why, yes it is.
I've been looking for my staff for years. Never found
them." The best was when one woman was telling me
(she was truly sincere) that she is amazed that she
keeps her staff busy eight hours a day cooking,
cleaning and doing laundry. Hmm. Very sincerely I
replied, " I certainly CAN imagine!"

Aidan visited his nursery at Cheltenham College this
week. He'll start a couple mornings in the fall. He
did pretty well! He let me leave, but did start to
cry about half way into it. I've been trying to say
things like "lorrie" instead of "truck and "garden"
instead of "yard" so Aidan can better understand his
new friends and teachers here. Last week, we put his
shoes on and he went out to play in the garden. When
I came out, he was standing in one of our raised beds
among the flowers. I asked what he was doing. He
said,"But you told me to play in the garden!" The
only time he's EVER done what I asked!

Lastly, I ask that you keep my cousin, Dan
Prindiville's daughter, Michelle, in your prayers.
She was diagnosed with a brain tumor on Monday. There
are more questions than answers right now, but it does
appear to be operable.

Hugs to all!

T