tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-258313102024-02-08T17:41:22.536+00:00T Time in EnglandT-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-49010333465618196912009-03-14T10:37:00.011+00:002009-03-14T16:21:08.060+00:00Squinting<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">R is back in the spotlight again and it’s not a very flattering light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has taken his mock common entrance exams (his mock senior school entrance exams).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had some differences of opinions while he prepared for these exams, namely WE thought he should have his nose in a book and HE thought he should walk around with a book, singing Led Zeppelin songs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, we agreed that we’d let him do it his way and see how it all worked out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or not.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The one thing you can say about R is this:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>he is NOT your average student.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is nothing average about him at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is either above or below (in direct correlation to how much he likes his teacher), but he is certainly not average.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It was a little tricky congratulating him for his magnificent triumphs when he needed a kick in the pants for his, well, below average work. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">One night J and I lay awake wondering what to do with R.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was feeling desperate and was running out of ideas to motivate R.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J reminded me that two years ago M was a huge worry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It seems like ages ago, but yes, I worried day in and day out about M for years. Maybe it is R’s turn or maybe it is his age or maybe in time, kids will all turn out just fine no matter what…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When the kids were toddlers and even into grade school, I’d find that at night, when the room was dark, I could squint my eyes, stare at them sleeping in their beds and see them as babies.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I could remember their soft breath and how they felt in my arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There they were, these big kids, but with a little darkness and just a bit of squinting, those babies were right there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I still stare at A as he sleeps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Those small, pudgy babies of mine disappeared and now I step over piles of muddy grown up shoes by the front door.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I feel robbed of precious moments.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When the kids were small (and still with A), exhausted, we’d practically limp upstairs to put them to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We read the same favorite books over and over until I thought my mind would turn to soup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I figure somewhere around fourteen years of reading Cars! Cars! Cars! can do damage to your brain.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Time is smooth and seamless.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Each day spent with our young family was noisy and chaotic, however change came about silently:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>babies became toddlers and toddlers became kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Preferences evolved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How could I have known the significance as I placed The Runaway Bunny back onto the shelf that one particular night, that I would never be asked to read it again?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well over a decade of reading this tattered book and I placed it along side the other books on the shelf without thought or notice, without ceremony. I wasn’t aware at the time, but this simple act of putting away a book was profound:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>an end of an era.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In that small and seemingly insignificant motion, part of their childhood, and my mothering, was over.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had an epiphany recently, just days after I worried so much about R.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>M and S were in the kitchen talking, laughing and helping out.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I watched them in a way that I hadn’t before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I stood back and really had a good look at them, like they were some sort of experiment and I was a scientist extracting data.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I noticed how they interacted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I listened to their voices and to the intelligent and funny conversation they were sharing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And then I did it:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I squinted.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In that moment I discovered something even MORE magical and MORE joyful than seeing babies in big kids.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Squinting in the full light of day, right there in our kitchen, I saw an amazing sight:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>our twins were nearly adults.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It didn’t take much to see that they are almost there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I processed this in my mind, it surprised me just how much, through watery eyes, I liked what I saw.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England, </p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-73256465728691363642009-03-12T13:56:00.003+00:002009-03-14T09:53:29.780+00:00Somerfield<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When J and I flew to England to find a house and school, our relocation agent took us down Bath Road in Cheltenham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He suggested that we try to find a home close to this shopping district, because we would be spending a lot of time there. It is THE place to shop for everyday essentials:<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>a chippy (fish and chip joint), 2 chemists, 2 butchers, 2 grocery shops, 3 Indian restaurants, the post office, a kitchen store, a green grocer, a deli, a bakery, an office/art supply shop, an old fashion shoe store and a repair shop like on Sesame Street except I’m pretty Luis wasn’t laundering money like these owners are.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The sidewalks were crowded with merchandise for sale, parked bikes, shoppers, window washers and postmen.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I couldn’t imagine myself there.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Essential shopping?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Really?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was no Target, Old Navy or Barnes and Noble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There wasn’t a single drive through or bagel shop. Not a Mattress Giant or Korean nail spa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No Petsmart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No Starbucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No TGI Fridays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No seagulls hovering above an urban sea of blacktop and minivans.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We found a house just a couple blocks from this shopping Mecca.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I shop on the Bath Road nearly every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My first venture to Somerfield, a grocery store, left me digging around my bag for hand sanitizer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was dirty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The floors were grimy, the shelves crusty, the choice paltry.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The bucked toothed, greasy haired carnies that manned the tills didn’t look at all like the nice moms who worked at Target.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I suspected I wouldn’t last long in this country.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It didn’t take long, though, before I got used to the sticky floors and the awe-inspiring lack of service.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I kind of like that I can shop in a place five or six days a week, year after year and never be offered so much as a knowing glance.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Shopping there is like snooping through the grade school janitor’s closet:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Standing at the altar of organized filth, with its dirty contents neatly organized on shelves, is exhilarating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Exchanging nervous glances with the tattooed bad ass in charge, electrifying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I feel a kinship to Somerfield’s patrons:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>we are a slightly anti-social people and we are lazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We shop at Somerfield simply because it is a block closer than the other cleaner grocery store.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We’re a pretty pathetic lot. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When an enormous hairy spider climbed out from behind some bananas, Somerfield emptied; its patrons fled, all screaming and arms flailing onto Bath Road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They stopped traffic and the event made the front page of our local paper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It made me delight in this grotty place all the more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I see a faint look of concern pass over our visitors’ faces when they enter our little shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I see their lips curl ever so slightly, a combination of wonder, disgust and pity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They ask if Somerfield is a convenience store. ‘Nope. It’s Somerfield. It’s where I shop’, I say proudly, ‘And where YOUR next meal is coming from.’</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And now it is closing. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">What a drag.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will now have to shop at the Co-op, which is brighter and fresher and has a better selection. The cashiers at the Co-op are lovely people and they do not possess any of the freak show qualities I find charming. For instance, the Co-op cashiers bathe and the women are clean-shaven with a low rate of tattoage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Plus, they are downright pleasant which I find terribly grating, but in time, I’ll get used to that, too, I suppose.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-55122414209933827252009-03-07T15:41:00.005+00:002009-03-07T15:49:47.386+00:00Driving on the Wrong Side of the Road Part 2<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In my second and final installment on driving, I would like to delve further into the joys and sorrows of driving on the wrong side of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have been living in England for so long now, that I get confused when I go home and drive in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pretty much, in either country, I just like to follow the car in front of me and hope it knows where it’s going.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In England, despite the strict testing and training of drivers, the rules of the road, are really more like guidelines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One glaring example is that the Brits drive into oncoming traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A lot.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The main reason for driving into oncoming traffic is to snag a parking place before anyone else takes it, which seems perfectly legitimate to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Parking is at a premium and no one is going to let a little thing like the threat of a serious accident, prevent them from getting a parking space.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cars are parked in every which way, including on the sidewalk or perpendicular if it’s convenient.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Looking at the direction of parked cars on a road offers no indication as to the flow of traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The children’s orthodontist is on a congested road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The preferred method of parking in that part of town is for one car to park on the sidewalk, another car parallel to it on the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If the car on the sidewalk needs to leave before the car on the street, the driver simply proceeds down the sidewalk until he reaches a lane from which he may emerge onto the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So what if cars are driving on sidewalks directly across from a grade school?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Those little kids just need to keep a heads up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The other legitimate reason for driving into oncoming traffic is if, say, you want to drop groceries off in front of your home (houses don’t come with garages conveniently attached), but you happen to be driving on the opposite side of the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or you see a friend across the way with whom you’d like to chit-chat. There is no need to go around the block and pull up in front of the house or person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You simply pull into oncoming traffic and park (as a courtesy to other drivers, but not to pedestrians, you pull onto the sidewalk, forcing moms with young children or the elderly to walk into the street to get around you).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You can’t just fly down the street in the manner of a drunk driver.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is a subtle art it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In order to NOT to frighten oncoming traffic, you mustn’t jerk the car over quickly or swerve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Instead, you must drive confidently into oncoming traffic for quite a distance before pulling slightly to the right and jumping the curb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Driving half on the sidewalk and half on the road into oncoming traffic is the universal signal that says:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I-mean-you-no-harm-I-simply-want-to-catch-up-with-an-old-friend-or-drop-off-my-potted-plants-thank-you-very-much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Often this snarls traffic, but no one minds or shouts obscenities. Very civilized.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Maybe the Brits are higher up Maslov’s hierarchy of needs than we are? </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We live on a fairly busy road.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There are pedestrians of all sorts:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>elderly people with elderly dogs, university students, and children on their way to school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Consider that there are bicyclists, double-decker busses, cars and that vicious old lady in her electric wheelchair all sharing the road, swerving around illegally parked cars and quinces that R tosses into the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No one cares that you are driving straight at ‘em.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is amazing.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last October when I was back in the US, I was at an unfamiliar and unusual intersection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I could go straight or turn left, soft right, or hard right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I wanted to make a ‘soft’ right hand turn. I was the first car in my turn lane, so I couldn’t simply follow the car in front of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>While waiting at the light, I took a moment to access the situation and verify exactly which lane I needed to turn into.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The light turned green and I drove, without hesitation, into a turning lane of oncoming traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If ever you are feeling like your life holds no thrills, I urge you to drive into oncoming traffic at a busy intersection in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One moment I was tearing up to a John Denver song playing on satellite radio in the rental car and the next moment I was witnessing looks of horror on the faces of all the drivers I passed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Their attempts to communicate my error were both animated and surprisingly easy to decipher.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In one beat of my heart, I became very aware of every hair follicle on my head and neck and every sweat gland in my body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was alive!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was awake! I was in need of fresh undergarments!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the grace of God there were no cars heading towards me and I was eventually able to swing into the proper lane.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Because there was so much traffic in the opposite direction, this took what seemed like miles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I pulled over, parked the car and shook for about a half an hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And sometimes people wonder why coming home for visits can be stressful…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’d just like to say that as frenetic as driving in England is, it suits me just fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sure it is startling to see people reversing down a street at 30 mph, but they are only doing that as a courtesy to allow another driver to get through a blocked road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You see, what inevitably happened is that Mrs. Smith was out clipping her roses when the vicar drove by and he stopped to congratulate Mrs. Smith on her daughter’s recent engagement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As it does, a five-minute discussion ensued (date, dress, flowers, etc) and other drivers were forced to reverse or drive onto sidewalks to pass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No road rage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everyone knows one day THEY’LL be the one who wants to talk with the vicar while he is passing down the street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In this country you just need to leave plenty of time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And if you don’t and you are late for an appointment, that’s fine, too.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Lastly, I’d like to point out the one thing the UK does take very seriously is speeding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>England has, last I counted, 5 trillion speed cameras.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They are everywhere, all knowing and without any sense of compassion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Twice I have gotten a speeding ticket, once going a WHOPPING 4 mph over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Between fines and points on your license, you pay dearly. Ask J.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J, is one ticket away from losing his license altogether because he has been caught by speed cameras so many times (please refer to my previous entry for further details on how I encourage him to slow down).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-76671167028937150612009-03-04T11:04:00.002+00:002009-03-04T11:11:42.373+00:00The Wrong Side of the Road, Part 1<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The next few installments of T Time, will be dedicated to driving on the wrong side of the road, something I do frequently when I return to the US.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the UK, you are able to get your license around your 18<sup>th</sup> birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As foreigners, we were allowed to legally drive on our US licenses for up to one year, so, of course, J and I drove for over TWO years before finally getting motivated to get our UK licenses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All of our British friends offered encouragement and even J’s work friends joined in the fun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was offered ‘an incentive program’ whereby Human Resources took away the keys to his company car until he could produce a valid UK license.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We love the Human Resources Department.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>They are always thinking up kooky things to keep us on our toes:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>taking away car keys one week and forgetting to transfer J’s paycheck the next.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What jokesters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like so many other worthwhile and wonderful things, procurement of a UK license takes time. A UK license is for life so they do not mess around when it comes to testing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You are required to take the written Theory Test first, and then a couple months later, you take a driving test.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The written test is more difficult than you might imagine because, for one, speed limits are often not posted; you need to learn what the national speed limit is on every type of road.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Also, all the distances are in metric, which I have never bothered to learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But above all, the exam is tough because the employees at the Driving Standards Agency are just barking mad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here are some sample questions:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">You are checking your trailer tyres.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What is the legal minimum tread depth over the central three quarters of its breadth?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="2" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Where may you overtake on a one-way street?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="3" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">You are signaling to turn right in busy traffic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How would you confirm your intention safely? </li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="4" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Where would you see a contra-flow bus and cycle lane?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="5" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">At puffin crossings, which light will not show to a driver?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="6" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">How long will a Statutory Off Road Notification (SCORN) last for? (bad grammar, by the way)</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="7" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">There are no speed limit signs on the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How is a 30 mph limit indicated?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="8" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Powered vehicles, such as wheelchairs or scooters, used by disabled people have a maximum speed of?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="9" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">Which three emergency services MIGHT have blue flashing beacons? </li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="10" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1;tab-stops:list .5in">You are waiting to emerge at a junction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Your view is restricted by parked vehicles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What can help you to see traffic on the road you are joining?</li></ol><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just for the record, I got 100% on my Theory Test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J did not, but you can bet I was very mature about the whole thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It isn’t about who got the better grade, it is just about being safe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">You study for your written exam and while doing so you must get drivers training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It isn’t enough that you have been driving for 25 or 30 years.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You will not pass without help.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You must hire a meek and mild man with thinning hair and loads of patience to re-teach you how to drive.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The cornerstone of the UK driving test is reversing down a road and into a side street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is frowned upon in the US, but in the UK it is necessary to perform this maneuver nearly every time you get behind the wheel of a car, so it is a pretty important skill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You will be tested on parallel parking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If you so much as touch the curb, it is an automatic failure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s considered loss of control. You will be taken down several different roads and you must know the speed limit of each.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is worth noting that I passed the driving test on my first try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For the sake of comparison ONLY, you may be interested to know that it took J THREE times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I think it’s important you focus on J’s eventual success, not on his NUMEROUS failures.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>As I said previously, it is all about safety, not about who is the better driver (me, obviously).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I continue to be a resource for J whenever we travel together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’m like a walking, talking Theory Test Study Guide.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When I note that his driving isn’t at the 100% marker or I sense he is feeling too shy to ask for my driving advice (which I encourage), I like to help him by pointing out ways he could improve his driving skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Peppering him with facts from the theory books is very effective.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If that doesn’t correct an unsafe situation, I engage a three-pronged approach wherein I first take the Lord’s name in vain, then use a strong and offensive swear word (depending on the extremity of the situation and how much time I have to get my point across, I might choose to combine these first two steps).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lastly, I ask a very pointed, leading question in a cheerful, but firm voice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It goes something like this, “Jesus H. Christ!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>F**K!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Would you slow down?!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Often this technique works, though often enough we end up skidding off the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This method has the added benefit of greatly increasing our marital communication, thus killing two birds with one stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Lots of heartfelt and lively banter ensues.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Everyone wins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">P.S.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The answers to the questions above are:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <ol style="margin-top:0in" start="1" type="1"> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">1.6 mm</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Either on the right hand or the left hand</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Arm signal (as if…)</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">On a one way street</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Amber flashing (assuming you know the difference between a zebra, puffin, pelican and staggered crossing)</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">12 months</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Street lights</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">8 mph (which I know for a fact is WRONG, because there is an old lady in our neighborhood who cruises in her wheelchair, doing about 40 mph in the rain while smoking, talking on her mobile phone and shouting vulgarities at anyone in her way)</li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Coast guard, bomb disposal, mountain rescue </li> <li class="MsoNormal" style="mso-list:l1 level1 lfo2;tab-stops:list .5in">Reflections of traffic in shop windows</li> </ol> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-6247380468508286812009-03-02T17:11:00.004+00:002009-03-02T20:17:28.647+00:00You'll Wish You Were Me...<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Why is it that some days life can be utter rubbish, others, a study in perfection?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Today is one of those splendid days when not only is it warm and sunny, but I am caught up with my laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perfection.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was forced to do laundry around the clock this weekend because we were expecting a visit from our landlords who were invited by me to smell the bouquet of our latest home ‘glitch’.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We are suffering from the vexing problem of a basement that smells as if it is well past its Best Before date, not unlike the contents of a container of fish pie that has gone missing in the fridge for a few months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I thought I’d extend an invitation to our landlords so they, too, could enjoy the pong (smell). </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The laundry was done simply to give the impression that I am not a lazy sloth.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am well aware that others could look at my life in England and think, gosh, I wish WE could get a sweet deal like they did and leave these Frozen Red and Blue States for someplace a bit more civilized: a place with less snow, less SUVs…less Oprah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, my friends, I am here to tell you life isn’t half bad on the other side of the pond when the sun shines and you have no laundry on the floor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You should definitely come. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I admit that part of the thrill at the moment, isn’t that the sun is shining, but has more to do with the fact that I have no laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>‘What a loser,’ you are thinking to yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, yes, of course, THAT is part of it, but mostly, I am just so happy I have an electrical dryer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know, the kind of dryer that you can’t fold up and tuck behind the door when company comes or the kind that isn’t hung in the back yard and doesn’t subject your neighbors to the sight of your ‘smalls’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mean a dryer with a plug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The kind with a big drum that you put wet clothes into, press a button and they come out dry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mean the kind of dryer that dries your clothes even if you live in England and it rains 85% of the time.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My intention here is not to make you envious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is just that I simply cannot begin to tell you how this machine has revolutionized my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We no longer have laundry hanging all over the house on clotheshorses, in doorways and on the radiators.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kitchen chairs are used for sitting, not drying laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What it does to soften a towel cannot be described.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Brilliant!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had promised to keep my mouth closed about this luxury (which obviously I’m not) because more than one husband I know said he’d really catch it if his wife found out J had indulged me in such a luxury, but I can’t help it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This dryer makes my heart sing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I may have a fridge the size of a shoe rack, but, by God, I have an electric dryer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I may start to write poetry…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got the dryer months ago after discovering that there are dryers that do not need outside ventilation.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You just have to empty a water container, similar to a dehumidifier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We got an electrician to pull power into one of our two closets and, bang, just like that, I had a dryer installed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Like my washing machine, it can only handle 5 shirts at a time, but I don’t mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I treat it like a child:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>filling it well beyond its capacity and pushing it far beyond its limits.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It likes that.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ve thought a lot about it and I’m pretty sure this dryer is the best thing that has ever happened to me.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If you don’t have one, you should really think about getting one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Maybe for Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Certainly all the really cool people have them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hear that some people actually have a washer and a dryer IN THE SAME ROOM, but for sure, that’s an urban myth.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To celebrate this moment, the simultaneous event of both sun and no laundry, I think I’ll go shoe shopping.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Or read a book, if you are J and you are reading this.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <o:p></o:p></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-73864097360935419322009-02-24T11:36:00.002+00:002009-02-24T11:39:47.697+00:00Our Puritan Ideals<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When England threw out their religious zealots, these people set off with nothing but scratchy clothes on their backs, sensible shoes on their feet and lots of crazy assed ideas in their heads (dancing = bad, setting fire to people we don’t understand = good).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They headed towards a new land full of hope and promise, but, instead, landed in Plymouth, Mass.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A quick aside: did I ever tell you about the time we, along with my high school friend, Colleen, took the kids to the Living Pilgrim Museum in Plymouth?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was the most hot and humid day in the history of mankind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The museum has volunteers who dress up in woolen clothes like Pilgrims and bale hay and tend fires like Pilgrims did.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You must address these volunteers as Pilgrims NOT as tour guides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>For example, you can’t ask the guy baling hay why the Pilgrims baled hay.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You must ask, “Excuse me Farmer John, I noticed that you are baling hay with your ‘fiancé’ who happens to be about 40 years younger than you, you perv, and I was wondering…” Only then will they answer you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The museum also had a volunteer who was an honest to God Wampanoag (or something like that) Indian who was dressed, in all his chiseled glory, in nothing but a loin cloth, walking around, bending over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He told sad stories of how much it sucked to be persecuted by the pilgrims to a small gathering of children around his feet, all the while his leg was resting on a log about two feet off the ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For some reason, mostly because we were already giddy from asking lots of Pilgrims questions, this struck Colleen and me as very funny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not the stories, of course, but whole scene in general. We started with stifled laughter and a bit of poking, but it wasn’t long before we needed to excuse ourselves altogether.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As we pushed each other to get away, to rid our minds of this searing image, I took one last look back and the Indian turned to me. I could see his face…a close up…and one single tear running down his cheek. Or maybe I am confusing my Native American memories.. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Anyway, what was my point?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So these pilgrims brought their ideas to a new land and with time and starvation, they evolved into a harsher people: the Puritans, which in Latin means:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>if it feels good, you’re going to Hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sometimes we forget that our great country is based on many Puritan, ideals such as:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>controlling urges: good, clean houses: good, idle hands: bad, too many vacation days: VERY bad. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">England, on the other hand, is not based on these ideals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They threw out the religious lunatics, but kept the fun people like Shakespeare, Benny Hill and the members of the Rolling Stones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Their country is based on the time-honored ideals of sex and alcohol (but usually not in that order).</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We moved to England and didn’t think this shift in values would affect us, but the longer we are here, the more adjusting we have to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our parenting has to incorporate the norms of the British culture but still must fit in with our Midwestern values.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It hasn’t been easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everyone knows raising teenagers is difficult. Maybe you’ve raised teenagers or maybe you simply recall those complicated teenage years; years spent trying to ‘find’ yourself (you were probably towards the back of a dimly lit Denny’s parking lot) and longing for ‘truth’ (‘truth’ being so elusive at that age because your every move required an intricate web of lies so your parents didn’t know you were spending hours at a time towards the back of a dimly lit Denny’s parking lot).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The legal age for drinking in the UK is 18 (about the time you get a drivers license) and alcohol is served to kids much younger than that in homes and in restaurants if the parents are present.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It isn’t irresponsible, it’s just is the way it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>European.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And further to that, sex just isn’t the taboo it is in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">For example, when M and S were 13, they were invited to a party of a girl who was still 12.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The parents were serving alcohol and the kids were invited to spend the night for a co-ed sleep over (a completely benign weekend activity here for every teenager…except ours). When I called the mother who was by all accounts lucid, (and bright, they just sent their oldest daughter off to Oxford), she was completely confused as to my concern.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her response?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>‘Would you prefer if we serve LIGHT beer and wine, only?’<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So when M and S were preparing to visit a friend in France for the week, I realized we had to have another serious dialog regarding alcohol and sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Additionally, I pulled M aside for a REAL heart to heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It went like this:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>M, I don’t want you to have sex with Shawn while you’re in France.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">M:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>JEEZ, Mom, why do you think I’d do that?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Because she is a prettier version of Kirsten Dunst only with bigger boobs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You’re 15.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Things happen.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">M:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(Big grin comes over his face) Oh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yeah.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Me:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mean it M.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I worry.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">M:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>God, Mom, will you PLEASE stop talking? </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And with that request, we let M and S travel to France completely on their own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had a wonderful time and there were no instances of any improprieties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At least that is what they are telling us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We may find differently in a few years. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-40748868719869985962009-02-22T12:31:00.003+00:002009-02-22T13:00:36.114+00:00Wafer Thin Mint?<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Monday, I spent the day with A in Cheltenham General Hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know me, always up for the sight of row and rows of beds and cracking/peeling paint in a hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Although we have private health insurance, in an emergency you must go to NHS hospitals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So, with A suffering acute pain, we headed to the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He had pneumonia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A had been sick on and off for the better part of a month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has lost weight and is looking even paler than his normal pasty self.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Poor guy, but when it came time to collect M and S from the airport after a trip to France, he was healthy enough to come along.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We waited at a Costa Coffee for their flight to arrive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The Nicer of the Two Parents indulged A in a massive hot chocolate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A gulped it down along with whipped cream AND marshmallows.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We were thrilled to have M and S back with us and we went out to dinner to celebrate their safe return and hear about their adventures in France.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Before dinner, The Nicer of the Two Parents ordered Aidan a fizzy fruit drink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A slurped it down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When dinnertime rolled around, A, who was seated next to aforementioned, Nicer of the Two Parents (and who wouldn’t want to be?), ordered himself a lemonade (7-Up).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">His sick tummy revolted. Three sips into that 7-Up and Aidan exploded like a scene out of Monty Python.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ll spare you the details, because, to be honest, words cannot do justice to this grand display of hot chocolate, purple juice, 7-Up and curly fries.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All the same, I will say that the restaurant became a temporary war zone with us grabbing chairs to use as shields as we ran for cover.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When Round One ended and A paused momentarily to reload, we got him out from behind the table and told him to run for the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Desperate, he took off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were nearly there, actually just OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM, when an old lady cut us off, walking very slowly (freaking, Mr. Bean nightmare).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She turned and gave us a smug look, quite satisfied that she had prevented an impolite boy from running through a restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Imagine my pleasure, my pure joy and deep gladness something akin to a religious experience, when A blew for a SECOND time…this time right down the old cow’s backside.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-75403021155106551852009-02-12T09:57:00.000+00:002009-02-12T09:59:29.743+00:00Snow Days<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Of all the many things I will miss when we eventually move back to the USA, there is no doubt I will miss the English winters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The temps are relatively mild; I continue to walk everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The absence of forced air heat means my skin is not dried and itchy all season, my fingers don’t crack, and because there is moisture in the air, my hair remains compliant with the laws of gravity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Having said that, I understand that our winter weather has made the news back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The snow here has been laughable and, honestly, a little exhausting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The United Kingdom cannot cope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Here are a few examples of what life has been like this past week:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last Tuesday, London came to a stand still, all buses and the Underground stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They had about eight inches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In Cheltenham, though, we got about two or three inches and most people did not show up for school or work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It melted the following day.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Thursday and Friday, when we got four inches of snow, Jim could not go to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The motorway was impassable both Thursday and Friday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>More than half the children did not show up for school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Our lucky kids walked to school.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our postman could not deliver mail (his bike couldn’t make it in the snow).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The grocery store shelves were bare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Friday, Jim and I took advantage of the additional day off and trudged to our favorite café.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The vegetables couldn’t be delivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Neither could the wine (it’s February…the detox is over).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Saturday morning (the children go to school on Saturdays), I kept the children home until the mid morning thaw because it was too dangerous to walk on the sidewalks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Drivers, unable to control their cars, were sliding up onto the sidewalks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Don’t forget, this is FOUR inches of snow!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Everyone it seems, even those rascals who would normally be committing knife crimes (very popular in the UK), was out playing in the snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have never seen so many snowmen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There were a few memorable ones, but my favorite was at a nearby pub.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>There was a snowman, quite lifelike, sitting on a chair, arm resting on a café table, with his hand around a full Guinness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At the senior school, there was a fabulous polar bear made of snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sadly, irreverent prep school miscreants (their mothers should be ashamed) had to ruin the festive nature of the snow by building an enormous replica of, umm…Wedding Tackle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Meat and Two Veg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You know…male bits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They were smart enough to erect (so to speak) this towering Man Garden away from the school buildings, further down the cricket and rugby pitches (supervising children is not one of the British prep school’s strong points).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The Willy went without notice for a satisfying amount of time (a day!), in full view of passing cars, until the administration from Cheltenham General Hospital, which is directly across the street, called Cheltenham College’s administration to notify them of the misconduct.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Also to tell them that the hospital’s patients were beginning to complain.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As you can imagine, there was a surge of school pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The prank will live in boarding school infamy.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sunday, a classmate of A’s went sledding (or sledging, as they say here) with her father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They collided with another sled (sledge) and the father broke his back in TWO places.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">To say that the British cannot handle snow is an understatement.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A week later, the snowmen look like ET’s Mini-Me, the snowdrops are blooming once again and the daffodils are pushing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>People have already begun planting pansies in window boxes and there is daylight at 6:00 pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We may not get a warm summer, but in February when the flowers are promising to bloom, I never seem to mind.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-36643298432929270272009-02-06T16:35:00.002+00:002009-02-06T16:42:34.481+00:00It's Official<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We are here until the summer of 2012.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Overall, we have handled this news well, especially those of us (M and A) who never wanted to leave.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The rest of us, who are severely lacking in sun exposure, are trying to warm to the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In this economic climate, we are grateful for J’s job and are well aware that we live in one of the most beautiful parts of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We live in a Kingdom, for God’s sake!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s the stuff of fairy tales.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sort of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Except the bit about the rain, the damp cold, the lack of summers, the drafty house, the cost of living, the lack of family and old friends, having to remember that the word ‘pants’ means ‘underpants’ and the fact that the British eat faggots and spotted dick (although not at the same time-spotted dick is for pudding).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Additionally, it is a country that has offensive names for towns such as Penistone and Crapstone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or worse yet, roads called Butt Hole Road (honestly), Crotch Crescent (my favorite) and Slutshole Lane (?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>On the London Underground, I smile a sophomoric grin when the recorded voice announces ‘NOW APPROACHING SHEPHERD’S BUSH’.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>‘Yuck,’ I always think to myself, ‘is THAT what I smell?’</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Scratch that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Those are actually examples of why I LOVE this quirky country.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I must admit that M’s recent mumble about returning to the US for college made my heart swing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Two additional years in England, I worry, will make the twins more settled (they will finish their secondary education here) and want to go to university here. University leads to jobs or marriages (or both) in England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That means we are possibly left with only R and A in the USA to care for us in our old age.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>R is unlikely to be a decent carer (unless we make it extremely easy and very lucrative) and A, by his own admission, wishes he had a different mom, one who didn’t say ‘no’ all the time, so, as a companion in our old age, he isn’t looking too promising, either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am easing myself back into English life from which I had started to detach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have stopped looking at the pictures of our new house back home on a daily (hourly) basis.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I, like everyone else in Cheltenham, am simply biding my time doing laundry and talking about the weather until Champagne Season begins (even now I glance at my watch, wondering how much longer I have to wait).<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the mean time, I might indulge myself by putting on some Bob Seger (Roll Me Away is one of the all time best lets–get-the-Hell-out-of-here songs) and daydreaming about my homeland.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-20145583933514509622009-01-25T20:24:00.003+00:002009-01-26T08:11:19.677+00:00Cue The Clash<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The last few months have been a bit tumultuous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We sold our house in the fall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Walking out the door for the last time was emotional despite the fact we’ve been away for nearly three years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then, two days before Christmas, we closed on a house in Lake Forest, IL.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is closer to J’s work and is within walking distance to the train, shops and cafes, which was important to us after living in town for this long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We hope to rent the house until our return.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I love change and so with the purchase of our new home, I was able to throw myself into our move back.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I was googling park district programs for A and collecting the phone numbers of handymen (bad 70’s shelving in the new family room has to go).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I started to think about things I wanted to bring back from England.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I fantasized about A celebrating the 4<sup>th</sup> of July and seeing proper, over the top Christmas lights and decorations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And snow.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Alas, I may have to wait.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>J’s boss came to the UK.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He is a lovely man and while we stood together talking, it became obvious (by way of Dave bellowing and choking, ‘Who said you were going home in a year?’) that J is still needed here, which we knew, but chose to ignore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yes, we can go home, but will that be the best for J or our family?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We moved here because J was spending too much time away from home, would we want to move home only to have J flying to England for weeks at a time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>(Although maintaining a flat in London certainly sounds appealing…)<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But then there are the children to consider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>R wants the American lifestyle back immediately.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is desperate to return so he can, by all accounts, loiter outside 7/11’s with his homies, lay in the sunshine and avoid growing up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>S has been seduced by Hollywood and now thinks high school is like High School Musical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She wants to return so as to experience the American high school ‘dream’. M wants to stay in England and complete senior school here (And who can blame him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is doing so well after years of struggling with his learning disabilities). And A says he is happy to move home, but that he will NOT be going to school upon our return (not really worryin’ about HIS hang ups, though).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am happy here, but I do get homesick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I miss my parents (My dad had major surgery last October.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>My, mom, bless her, had to put to sleep our cat they inherited when we left.).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I miss family and my friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some days I just wish I was sitting at my Aunt Marilyn’s kitchen table instead of negotiating sidewalks decorated with delicate starbursts of vomit (I seriously contemplate why Britain’s youth, almost without exception, eat carrots before binge drinking).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And, for all our faults, Americans volunteer and give of ourselves freely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I miss our openness and lack of reserve and dedication to community.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And so I say to you, ‘Cue the Clash!’</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Clash’s punk rock song “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” is clanging in my head, although, in this instance, I think a more soulful, slightly mournful remake might prove to be very effective (think Judy Collins’ version of “Both Sides Now”).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In your mind, add some rather self-indulgent shots of me, face heavy in contemplation, wearing a jaunty coat, perky hat and shiny black wellies walking my small British dog in the rain past stunning Regency architecture, answering emails in my very Jane Austen dining room with the sun, pouring through my two hundred year old, nine foot windows or of me dashing out to collect the children from their elitist schools.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Such doleful images.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We will do whatever is best for the family and staying here until 2012 would get M and S through senior school and give R a chance to go to high school back home for two years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are choosing between two blessed situations, we know that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I do, however, feel for R in particular, who carries all the baggage that middle children often do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, in the words of my father, a master of sensitivity, who understands R well (they share a birthday and birth order in families of similar make up:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>three boys and one girl), ‘Too, damn bad, he’ll be fine.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’ll keep you posted.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann </p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-5820581463090920312009-01-21T10:09:00.004+00:002009-01-21T10:31:11.753+00:00Hope Won<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 15px; font-family:arial;font-size:13px;"><table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" border="0" style="border-collapse: collapse; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: table; font-size:inherit;color:initial;"><tbody style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><tr style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: table-row; vertical-align: inherit; color:initial;"><td valign="top" style="font: inherit; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: table-cell; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; color:initial;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">Dear all,</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">This was the prayer which was said at the invocation of Bishop Gene Robinson. It was forwarded to me by our very hip Rev. Kate back home and was said yesterday at the senior school's morning chapel by the rocker Rev. Reynaud (S came home gushing about it). It is beautiful and and not at all offensive to my Republican friends and family, which I like because I am all about inclusion. And warm, understanding embraces. </span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">Also, it is worth noting that I cut and pasted this All. By. Myself. No help from my eye rolling children who repeatedly claim I am not worthy of a sleek laptop. It is the dawning of a new year... </span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">With love from England, </span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">T-Ann</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 14px;font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;">------------</span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 14px; font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;color:initial;"><span class="article_text" style=" outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;color:initial;"></span></span> </div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 14px; font-family:Verdana;font-size:12px;color:initial;"><span class="article_text" style=" outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; font-family:Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;font-size:12px;color:initial;"><p class="MsoNormal" color="initial" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">O God of our many understandings, we pray that you will…</p><p class="MsoNormal" color="initial" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" color="initial" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with tears</b> – for a world in which over a billion people exist on less than a dollar a day, where <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232391464_4" style="background-image: none; background-repeat: repeat; background-attachment: scroll; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: medium; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; background-position: 0% 0%; color:initial;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232532463_0" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;">young women</span></span> from many lands are beaten and raped for wanting an education, and thousands die daily from malnutrition, <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232391464_5" style="background-image: none; background-repeat: repeat; background-attachment: scroll; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: medium; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; background-position: 0% 0%; color:initial;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232532463_1" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;">malaria</span></span>, and <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232391464_6" style="background-image: none; background-repeat: repeat; background-attachment: scroll; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial; background-color: transparent; border-bottom-width: medium; border-bottom-style: none; border-bottom-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; background-position: 0% 0%; color:initial;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232532463_2" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;">AIDS</span></span>.</p><p class="MsoNormal" color="initial" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with anger</b> – at discrimination, at home and abroad, against refugees and immigrants, women, people of color, gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with discomfort</b> – at the easy, simplistic “answers” we’ve preferred to hear from our politicians, instead of the truth, about ourselves and the world, which we need to face if we are going to rise to the challenges of the future.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with patience</b> – and the knowledge that none of what ails us will be “fixed” anytime soon, and the understanding that our new president is a human being, not a messiah.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with humility</b> – open to understanding that our own needs must always be balanced with those of the world.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with freedom from mere tolerance</b> – replacing it with a genuine respect and<span style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"> </span>warm embrace of our differences, and an understanding that in our diversity, we are stronger.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Bless us with compassion and generosity</b> – remembering that every religion’s God judges us by the way we care for the most vulnerable in the human community, whether across town or across the world.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">And God, we give you thanks for your child Barack, as he assumes the office of <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232391464_7" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(0, 102, 204); border-bottom-width: 1px; border-bottom-style: dashed; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1232532463_3" style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;">President of the United States</span></span>.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Give him wisdom</b> beyond his years, and inspire him with Lincoln’s reconciling leadership style, President Kennedy’s ability to enlist our best efforts, and Dr. King’s dream of a nation for ALL the people.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Give him a quiet heart</b>, for our Ship of State needs a steady, calm captain in these times.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Give him stirring words</b>, for we will need to be inspired and motivated to make the personal and common sacrifices necessary to facing the challenges ahead.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Make him color-blind</b>, reminding him of his own words that under his leadership, there will be neither red nor blue states, but the United States.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Help him remember his own oppression</b> as a minority, drawing on that experience of discrimination, that he might seek to change the lives of those who are still its victims.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">Give him the strength to find family time and privacy</b>, and help him remember that even though he is president, a father only gets one shot at his daughters’ childhoods.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">And please, God, keep him safe.</b><span style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"> </span>We know we ask too much of our presidents, and we’re asking FAR too much of this one.<span style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"> </span>We know the risk he and his wife are taking for all of us, and we implore you, O good and great God, to keep him safe.<span style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline- line-height: 1.2em; color:initial;"> </span>Hold him in the palm of your hand – that he might do the work we have called him to do, that he might find joy in this impossible calling, and that in the end, he might lead us as a nation to a place of integrity, prosperity and peace.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">AMEN</b><b style="outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; ">.</b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; outline-color: initial; line-height: 1.2em; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></p></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span>T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-77409505330376015812009-01-16T14:25:00.005+00:002009-01-16T18:19:47.679+00:00Detox is the New Black<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> It is the time of year in England when we all, like lemmings, run to health food stores in order to buy tinctures, drops and supplements all in the hopes of detoxing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> This year, in order to rid my body of unwanted toxins, I have given up wheat and dairy (except for butter, obviously).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will not even have the occasional glass of wine until February.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Unless it seems appropriate. Or it might appear rude if I refuse.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> In return for a little discomfort (i.e.:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>not eating sleeves of Hob Nob cookies with my tea everyday), I will have a healthy body that will provide me energy and vitality in the coming year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will possess clarity of thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will be more motivated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will be thin and muscular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I will become at least 5’7’’, my graying hair will give way to a cascade of golden curls and wrinkles will fade.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The best part?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J will start to look like Daniel Craig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">To be fair, I am certain detoxing is useless, but it does seem to help the Brits prepare for Champagne Season, which opens in a few short months, generally around the third week of March.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Detoxing is a step up from self-flagellation and seems to give a bit of purpose to the otherwise dull month of January.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I approached detoxing as I approach everything in life:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I went slinking off to the health food store to ask what was the EASIEST way to get through it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was sent away with a milk thistle tincture (which tastes almost as bad as the syrup, lemon juice and chili pepper concoction I drank last detox) and a package of detox patches. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">These patches are like magic, so for sure they are a scam, but I don't care.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>At nighttime, you slap a patch on the bottom of each foot and go to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>In the morning you peel them off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>How do I describe something so vile?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I know we’ve all dealt with some nasty things over the years, that many of you are parents or medically trained or that when you were younger you poked road kill with sticks, but trust me; you’ve never seen something so awful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When you peel off these giant band-aid patches, you are left with a pad full of black tarry toxins that are now, by the grace of God, conveniently located OUTSIDE your body and are safely on their way to a bulging landfill where they clearly belong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Thankfully, they are no longer INSIDE your body making you short, a bit thick in the middle, tired, cranky and unable to devote quality time to anything but a Mamma Mia DVD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Hope your new year is off to a warm and sunny start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Since that only applies to the three of you who live in Florida, I’ll rephrase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hope your new year is one filled with love and peace and the courage to endure the American winter.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-28201648118205429662009-01-12T17:07:00.003+00:002009-01-15T19:05:41.698+00:00In the words of that poet, Neil Diamond, 'Hello Again, Hello'<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"> I am back from my extended break from writing.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because I don’t particularly write about anything, I generally do not have a problem generating content for my blog entries. For weeks, however, I was cursed with my own freakish style of writer’s block.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It came in the way of a tune that was stuck in my head.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Just as I was beginning to accept that writing as a profession might require a modicum of self-discipline (let’s face it, not one of my strong suits) the theme song from that 60’s show, Love American Style, got stuck in my head, nearly derailing a career that I have yet to start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was paralyzing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Really.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now think back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Surely, some of you must remember that song?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If not, I urge you to google.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It is seriously catchy. I couldn’t stop singing it, humming it and groovin’ to 60’s inspired dance moves in front of my computer (and down the street, if I’m honest).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There was no way I could write.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Nothing would release me from this Hell.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I even tried singing other theme songs like the one from The Mary Tyler Moore Show or another personal favorite, the theme to One Day At a Time which starred Valerie Bertinelli and Bonnie Franklin and some other girl who ended up ravaged by drugs due to bad genes and the success of this show (hardly worth it), if I remember correctly.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So anyway, our second half of November banged on with the usual turn of events:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>M not waking up in good time and not walking the dog, S stressing in a rather irritating, controlled and hormonal sort of way about exams, zits and impending braces, R not taking out the garbage and talking too much in school and A snapping, ‘NO!’ far more than any five year old should.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So that is our November sorted.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the time December rolled around, time had healed my Love American Style dilemma, but then R accidentally super glued my laptop shut, which obviously made writing difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It might be best not to go into too much detail about that.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Early in the month, A snapped his collarbone on the playground at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> T</span>he moment I saw the antiquated playgrounds in this country (blacktop is such an effective way to break a fall), I knew there was going to be a broken bone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A’s accident gave me the push I needed to sit down with the new headmaster and give him an earful.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I felt my background in English and Early Childhood gave me the credibility I needed to bully the new headmaster.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I demanded to know which theory or educational style or even which article in Oprah magazine the school was basing their really not-so-fun early childhood program upon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">At age five, Aidan is by far the last kid to read in his class.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He goes to school from 8:15 until 3:30 and has spelling (words like chicken, tracksuit, shampoo and pavement) and reading homework each night.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I have resisted homework for three years, but now he is beginning to think there is something wrong with him because he cannot read as well as his peers.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, with the headmaster stammering, I go in for the kill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>‘Right,’ I quip. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>‘You have no foundation for this type of education, do you? ‘<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He admits that well, no indeed, they teach this way (with no teacher smiling or hugging the kids, no music in the room) because it is simply the way they have always done it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We spent a well over an hour discussing the lame playground and the lame British early educational system.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>When I felt sufficiently smug, I ended the meeting.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I should know when I get smug, the paybacks are rich:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A went to school the very next day and, with his one working, non-dominant arm, he chopped into his own hair and cut the hair of another boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They wanted to look like James Bond.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As my luck would have it, the mother of the A’s ‘client’ is one of the fussiest in school (she wakes up in the morning and decides if she should drive the Porsche SUV, the Bentley or the Ferrari and wouldn’t DREAM having a hair out of place or of cutting her boy’s golden curls).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">So, this was a little ugly.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And A didn’t look so cute for the family portraits that followed two days later.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England, </p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-20379833921837152932008-11-18T20:38:00.007+00:002008-11-19T07:27:07.656+00:00Our Middle Son<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With the end of October, we became the parents of another teenager.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So vividly I remember the days of wishing the kids could walk and tie their shoes on their own, bring us cold drinks and help find the remote.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Now we worry about decisions teenagers can make which have more dire outcomes than waiting too long to go to the loo.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">R’s twelfth year was a bit ugly.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He managed, in an unfailing yet somewhat admirable way, to consistently do the wrong thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If there was a shoe to be lost, he lost it.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>If there was a fight to pick with an unsuspecting sibling, he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If there was homework to do, he didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If he thought his mother was imperfect, he chose all the wrong times to point it out (trust me). </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am happy to report that R has had a great couple of months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>First of all, he performed Shakespeare’s Henry the Fifth at a professional theater in Birmingham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What a fabulous night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Four schools each performed a shortened version of a Shakespeare play for an All Schools Shakespeare Festival.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was humbled thinking about the blessing of watching R perform Shakespeare in England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Although R had a small part, it made us beam to hear his two lines projected into the theater with his still strong American accent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The performance was the usual over the top Cheltenham College Junior School production complete with costumes and choreography.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If only the drama teacher could captivate her English class in the same manner.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Days later, R went on a class trip to Iceland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Yes, Iceland.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Aside from serious issues with its banks, Iceland is more beautiful than one might expect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>There is a stark beauty, but there are stunning blue glacier fed lagoons and rivers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The kids swam in the blue lagoon while it was freezing outside, smearing themselves with mud that is bottled and sold for a high price for its anti-aging properties (it gave R a rash on his face).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>They went whale watching (lots of barfing kids out on the sea) and visited a bunch of geysers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A highlight was climbing around and behind waterfalls in dangerously icy conditions. Thankfully, one mission was called off due to life threatening conditions (one kid next to R slipped on ice near the edge of one huge waterfall).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It snowed while they were there which was real treat for many of the kids who rarely see snow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a brilliant time, the lucky dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Just seems that in return he could take out the garbage with a smile and walk the dog every once in awhile…</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This magical geography trip was sold to parents as a trip highlighting geothermal heat and the environment, yet surprisingly, we have heard very little details of the environment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Apparently, f</span>ield reports and the Icelandic topography did not hold the children’s attention as much as the opposite sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I would never embarrass R, however, I am just going to say that he is now the IT boy in class and all the “fit” (read: hot) girls are totally diggin’ on him.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So he has that going for him.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">R also announced recently that he wants to be a doctor, something a science teacher two years ago predicted. The teacher actually said, 'R is the kind of kid who is so clearly capable in science that it scares me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I fear one day I will lay in surgery and look up to see R's face standing over me.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">R thinks the medical profession is a pretty good gig if you are planning on owning Ferraris and flashy watches (I'm pretty sure R was either a magpie or pimp in a former life. I have never seen anyone outside the rap industry who is drawn to bling in quite the way he is... We continue to explore the concept of 'understated' with him.). Additionally, he is pretty sure he could have his choice of girls if he becomes a doctor.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> <span style="mso-spacerun:yes">A</span>s an afterthought, he thinks he could help people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Tonight, he is in anger management mode because his biology teacher gave him a 'B' on his recent exam despite having enough correct answers to have earned an 'A'. His work was too sloppy she said. Ya gotta love that: a teacher with principles. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">R has a scrapped up face and a black eye from two nasty rugby hits (one collision with a knee, the other from someone stepping on his face with their cleats).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We took him last weekend to be fitted for a tux (dinner suit) for his first ball to be held the second week of December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Daniel Craig should be very afraid of his competition.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">All in all, we have decided to keep him.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-69112006414604851312008-11-11T12:36:00.010+00:002008-11-11T21:29:52.086+00:00Left of Barney<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our spectacular autumn ended abruptly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We are officially into the grey and wet days of an English winter. Heating costs in this country are criminal and this beautiful, old, drafty stone house loses its charm in the winter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Last year, our heating bills were close to mortgage payments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Still, I have an optimism that warms my heart.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This is the secret of my warm heart:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the gift of an Obama win.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am skipping through the cold rain with joy in every step.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last week, I sat with A on my lap and tearfully watched the Obamas vote.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> The next morning, we</span> gathered as a family at 4:00 to watch the election results. It was history in the making and we were grateful to share the moment with the kids.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I cannot tell you how many people here stayed up all night or woke early to watch results of our election. I’d never lose sleep over election results France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The American election matters to so many people around the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had no idea just how seriously the world views it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This time, the United States did not let them down. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Most of you know that I am a bit liberal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Much more liberal than J (Who, although a staunch democrat, seems to inch closer to The Right when I am not looking. At one point last spring, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of J moon walking like Michael Jackson, to The Right. He crept back and our marriage absorbed his indiscretion.).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J reminds me that even Barney the Big Purple Dinosaur, who shares EVERYTHING, has to look left to see me. (For that reason, J opposed the children watching Barney-‘Too much sharing isn’t natural,’ he would quip.).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Obama’s victory touched me deeply.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">No matter what your party affiliation, there is no denying that Obama’s win has sparked an energy around the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I do hope that our great nation comes together to tackle all that troubles it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Living abroad does not allow for the luxury of taking your country for granted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>By not being there, I am reminded every day of just how wonderful the United States of America is.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-42126838554300948752008-10-20T12:54:00.005+01:002008-10-20T16:42:17.850+01:00Jeremy<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all, </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Living with feet planted securely in two countries is nothing if not life affirming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We have good friends in both countries and we do not take this blessing for granted.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last summer J and I left the kids with a sitter and escaped to the seaside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We joined three other couples in Woolacombe, North Devon, to celebrate the birthday of a friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was a spectacular few days filled with sand and sun British style.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">During WW2, Woolacombe was the English army’s base during the training for D-Day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The cliffs surrounding the beach look amazingly like those in Normandy, France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We had a post card perfect beach hut, white with a brightly painted door, where we gathered during the day and laughed until our faces hurt and we were properly sunburned.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">In the evenings, against a glorious backdrop of the setting sun over the sparkling sea, we got together to celebrate not only the birthday, but also the warm weather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One night, at 2:00 a.m. after quite possibly too much fun, J and I dragged ourselves up the impossibly steep hill, legs burning, to our Bed and Breakfast only to discover we were locked out.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There we stood, making lots of noise, ringing the doorbell, wondering what to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Like a couple of dim-witted criminals, we planned a break in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We were not dressed appropriately for criminal activity.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I hiked up my dress for serious range of motion. While balancing in the manner of Dr. Seuss atop two stacked outdoor stools, on the edge of a deep hill, J tried hoisting me into the air towards our open window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Well, that was the plan, anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>As you might imagine, this wasn’t easy and, what with the alcohol, laughter and more than a few lewd comments from J, my cat-like reflexes were not as sharp as usual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It took a few tries for me to grab the windowsill with my hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I then swung my legs up and secured my toes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J was a rock of encouragement during this critical phase of the break in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He gently reminded me of what a nimble athlete I am and poked me in a generally cheering way every chance he could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hung there momentarily with all the grace and dignity of an underage Chinese gymnast until at last I pulled my knee onto the sill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I then heaved up the remaining, unaccountably heavy pieces of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>All this smoothness of movement achieved with my dress somewhere around my neck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, after I was successfully squatting on the sill taking a well-deserved deep breath, there came one last unexpected push on my rear end.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I fell into the room with an embarrassingly loud thump (note to self:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>definitely lose weight).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The eight of us had such a great a time; we planned to go back for our summer holiday ’09.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The phone call came two weeks ago, while I was visiting in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I stood in shock. I couldn’t breathe.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jeremy and another man, two friends with whom we shared such lively times in Woolacombe last summer, were motorcycling through France when Jeremy was hit by a car and killed instantly, leaving behind the most beautiful wife and three lovely teenage children.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jeremy was a mischievous, larger than life man who possessed an infectious love of life. He adored his family and enjoyed his friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He was always up for a laugh and as J can attest, as they are in the same business, humor was always present even in business emails.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jeremy is the second friend in England we have lost in as many years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Both deaths occurred while we were visiting in the US.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I felt helpless in the US and yet when tragedy strikes back home, which it has, I feel equally as powerless in England.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The day we were asked to move to England, I could not have guessed that we would have made such good friends here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I don’t think I imagined it would gut me to miss weddings, Christenings and funerals in England just as I have missed them back home over the past two and a half years, but it will.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am, however, grateful for whatever time I have on this earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Time to experience both the sorrow and joys, pain and happiness along side the good friends and family that we have on both sides of The Pond. </p><p class="MsoNormal">It is just that some days, I wish England wasn't quite so far from home. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-12203742675349035592008-10-18T17:16:00.001+01:002008-10-18T17:19:11.597+01:00Air Space<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here I am at 3800 feet.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’ve entered US airspace, which thrills me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I am looking forward to US immigration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>After the immigration officer reviews your passport suspiciously and grills you as to why you would like to enter the US, he hands you your passport, looks you in the eye and says, “Welcome home.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes">Every expat here agrees it is the sweetest of moments. Makes me well up every time.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Then you pass through the gates and into the land of freedom, liberty and medium rare burgers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Some days I wonder how we could ever have left.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It is just such so good to be home.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-9304455009624788492008-10-15T09:34:00.003+01:002008-10-15T09:40:13.524+01:00Flash<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Dear all,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Seems hard to believe that my friend Elizabeth, or The Queen as we like to think of her, is back at home after a ten-day visit.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">It was a very quick ten days.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We hit every boutique and tearoom I could find.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Little to no time was devoted to educational excursions, but that is why one is always welcome to read a history book.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We weren’t about to waste our time in educational pursuits when there were scones to be devoured and winding roads to explore.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I enjoyed every minute of her trip.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I think she did, too, although it was almost friendship over at a car boot sale.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Elizabeth and I have scoured flea markets and thrift stores together for years with the steadfast rule that whoever first spies the bargain has ‘dibs’.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Still, when I beat her to an ancient and exquisitely patched kilim rug</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">(Fabulous by the way-got it for a song), I thought she might hurt me in a very dramatic and Shakespearian way.</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In the end, she thanked me for allowing her to spend time in our movie like life and I thanked her for walking our dog.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">She returned safely to the controlled or not so controlled chaos that is family life.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">An award and big kiss goes to her husband, Flash (his actual summer camp nick name), who, along with the reluctant assistance of one scowling teenager, managed to clean both the garage and the basement in her absence.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">He also kept two barfing-on-the-carpet younger boys and an acutely old dog alive in her absence.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">All this with only one panicked call to England.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Really, his only fault was sleeping through the boys’ Religious Ed. classes, which is a real shame because Sister Surly at Our Lady of Hopeless Progression has now doomed them to Hell.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Who needs a vacation now, Flash?</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">With love from England,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">T-Ann</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-47787045032651891612008-09-19T21:25:00.005+01:002008-10-18T17:10:36.129+01:00The Patience of Job<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My ray of sunshine has arrived.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">My dear friend, Elizabeth, has arrived in England and not a moment too soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Literally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I got the guest room ready and I organized day trips.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, after months of planning J took the day off to drive to Heathrow (two hours away) and collect her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He called with status reports: her plane landed, baggage claim assigned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No more updates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Finally, I called him assuming they’d be on the way home, but still no Elizabeth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A little worry set in.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">More time, more pages over the airport intercom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No Elizabeth.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Now near panic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She must have been pulled in immigration, I thought. What could she, the mother of five and a soon to be grandmother have smuggled into England?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I chuckled (I swear, only a little and very quietly) at the thought of her being roughed up while jet lagged and quite possibly without lipstick, by some scary immigration officer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J, bless him, was searching endlessly to get information.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Well, wouldn’t you just know?<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I put the wrong date down on the calendar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sometimes I do the darndest things.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This brings me to admit a fact that I have been denying to my friends and family on a regular basis for over 17 years:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J is a saint. I now admit it:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J is for Job.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal">It is a bad week for me when I have to apologize twice in one week, but it has happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One fit of PMS insanity and the other, sending him on a wild goose chase at Heathrow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I hate when I do that.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Glad he is the forgiving type. </p><p class="MsoNormal">And so happy to have Elizabeth by my side.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-34652132590746683182008-09-16T20:52:00.003+01:002008-09-16T21:03:37.530+01:00The Promise of Another Year<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The kids are now entrenched in school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>M and S continue at the senior school (college) while R enjoys his final year at the Junior along with A who is now big enough to have weekly spelling tests, the bane of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">R is Big Man On Campus but it comes with a price:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>studying for his Common Entrance Exam in June in order to be accepted into college.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>R has never taken much pride in the academic side of his education.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He does, however, possess Nobel Prize winning social skills, which he continues to hone every time the teacher’s back is turned.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">M is for once, off to a great start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is the first year in his entire school career where I have not had to attend an emergency first week parent/teacher meeting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am missing those conferences just a bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was always exciting to see teachers’ eyes bulge and their hair stand on end when they described M’s legendary lack of organization, as if I mightn’t have been aware.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When they managed to pull themselves together, they would insist, without exception, they’d have M sorted by the end of the year; I’d nod my head solemnly in gratitude and solidarity, hiding my amusement and doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>M organized by the end of the year?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Good. Luck.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So M has turned over a new leaf.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He mostly shows up to class on time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Often he turns in homework. Relatively few illegible assignments are returned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Kudos!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Yet for all those successes, h</span>e admits that he rarely brings the right books and folders to class but let’s face it, it’s good to have goals.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">S, on the other hand, is one of those people who love the promise of a new school year: the scents of new books and autumn in the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her academic load gives me a stomachache:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Math, History, Religious Ed, Physical Ed, Physics, Biology, Chemistry, English, French, Spanish, Latin and Greek.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And my only goal week after week is the same:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>keep up with the laundry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Also, for fun, she takes Mandarin two days a week at lunchtime, but she thinks this might prove be too much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Ya think?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-23168574497518882182008-09-14T20:31:00.001+01:002008-09-14T20:38:10.846+01:00The Wall<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This summer was, as I have mentioned before, a bit long though we were blessed with a visit from our 13-year-old Prairie Crossing neighbor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Each and every one of us was thrilled to have him with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is like a part of our family and, in fact, when we moved to England, I felt deeply that I had left a child behind I missed him so much </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We took him to very important places in England such as Cadbury World and Weston-Super-Mare, a seaside town with a proper grand pier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Sadly, two days later, The Grand Pier burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">J and the boys dragged him around London.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>What a trooper N was, throwing up on the lawn outside Westminster Abbey and nearly passing out at the Hard Rock Café while fighting a forty-eight hour flu.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>You can always count on a good time when you visit us.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The homesickness was palpable in our house for weeks after N returned to the USA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then we endured the Olympics, which came on at 3:00 a.m. and annoyed R to no end because they only interviewed British athletes and the coverage did not include US teams. So those were a wash.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While touring a castle in Scotland, I walked into TWO rooms with the same William Morris Willow wallpaper we have in our house back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The sight of the wallpaper made my insides hurt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I missed my house.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Ex-Pats often experience a little known phenomenon we refer to as Hitting The One Year Wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It’s when the charm of living abroad has evaporated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>When you miss people who understand that when you say ‘windbreaker’ you mean ‘jacket’ and not beach paraphernalia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or when you say something gives you the ‘willies’, you are not faced with looks of horror and mothers making mental notes to never let their child play with the little American boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Ditto the phrase ‘Just blow it off’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Wall means you are tired of paying $12 a gallon for gas and $5 for a can of refried beans. Tired of the weather, tired of the five guys at the butcher’s shop staring at your boobs while you order up pork and leek sausages, tired of calling their sorry excuse for band-aids ‘plasters’, tired of hearing Michael Jackson on the radio, tired of the metric system and Celsius. But mostly, I’m tired of trying to figure out WTF is so intriguing about Posh and Becks.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I think, although I am a bit overdue, I may have hit The Wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And God knows, there better be dark chocolate, Merlot and really good music on the other side….</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-50964858489287242812008-09-11T15:15:00.004+01:002008-09-12T17:51:18.210+01:00The Royal and Ancient<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"> Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our reason for visiting Scotland was simple:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>J desperately wanted to tick off one of the boxes on his To Do This Life list:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Play St. Andrews Old Course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We scheduled the trip with our friends in order to watch the Jacques Leglise Tournament-a tournament of Europe’s next golf stars-and scam free meals. Our friend, The Really Good Golfer, was the captain of the Great Britain and Ireland team as they took on continental Europe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Not only did J play the Old Course, another fine links course and a 1920’s hickory shaft course, but we were wined and dined by The Royal and Ancient, golf’s first ruling club and Britain’s version of the United States Professional Golf Association.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Really Good Golfer is a humble gentleman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He is arguably the finest British amateur golfer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has played with some of golf’s legends and has played in the US Masters three times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has received four crystal highball glasses for each hole in one he has made at the Masters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>If you are thirsty at their house, you’re as likely to be handed an old Ikea glass as one of his Master’s glasses, although only three remain as one was dropped years ago by one of the kids at dinner. The guy is seriously humble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So not only did we get to hang out with Europe’s talented new golfers we were treated to receptions filled with some of the world’s oldest money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This is the crowd where the Du Ponts run as does the Cartier family and the Lacostes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And now the Pierces? </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Royal and Ancient Club is the stone building they highlight when you watch the British Open being played at St. Andrews.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Most people who work for the Royal and Ancient and certainly the course keepers at the Old Course have never been inside the prestigious club, but there we were, inside the club drinking wine in beautiful glasses etched with the R and A logo.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Such a shame my bag was too small to nick any.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The reception was held in a room only recently opened up to women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Portraits of royal and/or long deceased R and A members hung on the walls.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The ceiling looked like a Wedgwood ashtray, for lack of a better description, painted in Wedgwood blue with fine moldings defined in white.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We were invited into the secretary of the R and A’s office and out onto his infamous balcony for drinks while people down on the Old Course and walking around St. Andrews stared up at us wondering if we were royalty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Or maybe thinking that we were a bunch of stuffy old gits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Same thing.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There were a few speeches, which allowed me time to check out the women’s dresses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> It was a bit disappointing as the </span>women were overall an amazingly frumpy lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>One, however, from my vantage point behind, was quite elegant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She was in her mid to late seventies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Her silver hair was cut in a bob and she wore a hot pink very tight dress.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>No underwear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Bless her, I thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But, oh my, when she turned around!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>She obviously burned her bra a lifetime ago and never looked back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The sight left me speechless, but The Wife lost no time voicing her concern that those aging, sagging, bra-less boobs might have put all the young, handsome golfers off sex.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The best part, aside from The Wife and I holing ourselves up in the ladies room while she filled me in on Royal and Ancient gossip (literally-did you know Prince Andrew is gay?) was being escorted into the Members Only room by The Really Good Golfer.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">As a member, he was free to go in and bring J, a male guest. But The Really Good Golfer, as I said before, is quite a gentleman and he also possesses a great sense of humor.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>He opened the door for his wife and me so that we entered the room first and there we stood, however briefly, alone in a men’s only room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The room was everything you’d want it to be:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the carpets were plaid as were the curtains framing the leaded windows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Walnut paneling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> There were worn leather chairs occupied by e</span>qually worn, impossibly snobby looking men. There was a moment of surprise on each of the men’s faces as they looked up to see two women with great big smiles on their faces.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then, all in turn, there was a stiffening of the backs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jaws dropped on cue, each man unable to form words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then came red faces and clenched hands on leather club chairs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I suggested to The Really Good Golfer that it might be time to leave, but not before the giggles had set in.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>How obnoxious these men were!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>How obnoxious The Wife and I were hooting all the way out of the room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I just wanted to shout, “I HAVE MY PERIOD!” or maybe lick something on my way out just to ensure that the Haz Mat team had to be called out.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-30896939599490680012008-09-04T14:18:00.009+01:002008-09-04T16:06:23.300+01:00Even Prisoners get Paroled<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our dreary English summer is turning into a grey and dreary autumn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>While we have had some wonderful moments this summer, some that I will share with you later, I mostly have been holed up with four bored children the whole wet summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>That is, until J and I escaped for five days to St. Andrews, Scotland.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I love Scotland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I mean it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I am completely in love with Scotland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The craggy shoreline, the sea, the mist, the sunshine, the rain, the people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I have had some sort of conversion, a bit like the first time I ever roamed through Vermont.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>An instant homesickness for place I’ve never been before. We have traveled so much, but I rarely drive through foreign towns and villages and think to myself, ‘Wow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Lucky you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>You get to live here,’ but that is exactly how I felt about every Scottish person we passed.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">J and I drove up from Cheltenham.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We headed north and put Birmingham and Manchester behind us before 9:00 a.m. By the time we entered Cumbria, England, or The Lake District as it is called, we were ready for a break.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Cumbria is Beatrix Potter country.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We exited the motorway following signs for a rest stop and drove through a heavily wooded, winding road which lead to glass and stone walled lodge nestled in between mountains with a deep pond running right up to the glass wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Honestly, it was as if any number of Beatrix Potter’s characters would come padding over to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>So spectacular was the setting, we hated to leave. And this was just a rest stop!</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We drove further north and entered Scotland.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was a bit disappointed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It just looked so much like England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Then the landscape began to turn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The tidy green grasses slowly grew more stark and yellow.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Then we wound around a bend in the road and there it was:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>the heather.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Mounds and mounds of purple hills and mountains fading into the mist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Why does anyone leave Scotland I wondered and that was before we even got to the sea.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We made our way through Glasgow and around Edinburgh and drove up the east coast through tiny but proud villages of weathered grey stone buildings and cottages with bright blue front doors (Scotland’s flag is blue and white).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Grandmas walked with grandchildren in record numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> Scotland is like Ireland with a more grand past-not quite as humble and with better roads, but it is not as painfully cute as our part of England. Rugged and refined. I like that.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Our first sighting of the sea coincided with the first golf course we spotted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The smell of the sea along with freshly cut grass was intoxicating.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>The air was thick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>We rolled down the windows and breathed deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The air in Scotland is so pure and clean; it almost feels sharp in your lungs.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>London leaves your boogers black and in Cheltenham, I do not dust so much as wipe black grime off stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>It felt so good just to breath in Scotland.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">By the time we arrived in St. Andrews, the golf Mecca, I was smitten.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">More to follow,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-31199345077498600162008-07-21T09:00:00.007+01:002008-07-21T09:33:31.415+01:00Pig<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I haven’t told you about my Mothers Day gift, Pig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pig is a Jack Russell Terrier with the looks and markings of a beagle so he is a cuter than most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He has a good temperament for a Jack Russell, which isn’t saying much since they are a notoriously difficult breed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pig is an English hunting dog through and through, which I hope sends images of red coats and horses into your head, however briefly. Jack Russells are working dogs, though, bred to hunt rats, not foxes. During our Summer of the Rat, Pig remains blissfully unaware.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Perhaps he is working on his upward social mobility (so difficult in England), aspiring to become a setter or maybe a retriever.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Once R had to throw a dog treat next to a rat so that Pig would take notice of it (then, true to roots, the dog went crazy).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pig came to live with us in March (England’s ‘Mothering Day’ weekend).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>He settled in well at first, however, the more comfortable he became, the more he began to act up by way of marking everything in our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I had my initial pang of buyer’s remorse when he peed the FIRST time on top of our kitchen table.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No matter how hard I tried, I no longer could see the value in this dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And while I am the first to admit I’ve had a bit of buyer’s remorse with every dog (and child for that matter-still do, occasionally), the heinousness of this particular incident disturbed me deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>The situation did not improve no matter how much I roared at J (The dog was HIS idea, see how that works?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And so it went until we had him fixed (the dog, not J) which is not a standard procedure in this country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>‘Let this be a lesson to you boys,’ I wagged my finger, ‘Do you see how I deal with young males who cross me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’d keep your room clean, if I were you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>And do some homework, while you’re at it.’</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We introduced the cage after Pig jumped up on the dining room table while I was gone and ate/ground three chocolate bars (wrapped and in a grocery bag) into the carpet. I am aware how dangerous chocolate is to dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was not concerned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I was PRAYING for a slow doggy death by chocolate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now that he has stopped peeing all over the house and is no longer jumping on tables, I have fallen in love with him again. Pig is now nearly perfect except for the bit about wanting to attack every animal he sees.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Still working on that.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Pig is far from the big, fluffy dogs we usually go for but we are discovering that smart dogs are just as challenging as dumb dogs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>No one would deny that Barley, as loveable as she was, was the world’s dumbest dog.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>With a smile and grateful heart, she happily lived at the bottom of our pack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Pig needs constant daily reminders of his place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Still, I see the advantages of small and shorthaired Pig: he is portable, doesn’t slobber, doesn’t barf in the back seat and is nearly bullet proof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We failed to enquire about life expectancy when we adopted Pig.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A mistake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Jack Russells can live for more than TWENTY YEARS, which SO would have been a deal breaker. J will be pushing 70, kids long gone and we will still have this dog to walk. J couldn’t be more thrilled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>A dog is for life, you know, not just for Christmas </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann </p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25831310.post-70803386271769256492008-07-19T10:23:00.004+01:002008-07-19T10:41:25.019+01:00The Strike<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal">Dear all,</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is all just unfortunate timing, really.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Who could have guessed that the rubbish collectors’ strike (second time since we’ve been here) would coincide with the local drains being replaced?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I’ll share with you a thing or two I’ve come to know about English rats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>First of all, I think a rabbit sized rat is impressive by anyone’s standards, especially when it is dangling from a vine, inches from your window.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>This makes you feel, well, rather uncomfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Second, the sight of rats in England, even the smaller, cuddly, cute ones, the ones that my two younger sons fancy we should keep as pets, recalls images of the London in high school history books or at the very least, scenes from Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I just can’t get ‘Ring Around the Rosie’ out of my head...</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sure, rat watching is fun for now, a jolly good diversion from our over cast and chilly summer, but<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>I can’t help thinking this new sport of ours may grow old in time. It's doubtful that the situation will improve anytime soon and I just don’t think the NHS is equipped to handle The Black Plague.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Send supplies.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With love from England,</p> <p class="MsoNormal">T-Ann</p> <!--EndFragment-->T-Annhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317917402659184589noreply@blogger.com0