September 9, 2006

Greetings, America!

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

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


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

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


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

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

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


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


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


Love,

T