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