March 12, 2007

Elizabeth Hurly

...did not invite me to her wedding. I didn't really
expected an invitation, seeing as I've never met her,
but while living here I've developed a smallish Mom
Crush on Hugh Grant and it would have been nice to
have seen him in a tux. Liz got married in
Winchcombe, a nearby village (she lives in the
Cotswolds) and it was all everyone could talk about,
the traffic, the road closures, who they knew who was
invited. Blah, blah, blah. Secretly I loved this as
I became a local, however briefly, and was able to
lament about the traffic and influx of celebrities
although it didn't affect me one bit. I did, however,
see one of Liz's centerpieces as a woman I know is a
wedding/event planner at Sudeley Castle where Liz's
wedding took place. The centerpiece was stunning.
Obviously, budget was not really an issue.
I have begun the arduous task of house hunting in
England (looking, in fact, in Winchcombe). We need
bigger digs. Giving "The Bickersons" (Michael and
Ryan), who share the tiny fourth floor room, more
space just may add years to all of our lives. In one
of my more charming moments, I gushed to our landlord
that because I thought he was SUCH a great landlord,
I'd ALLOW him to buy us a bigger house. He, as you
would expect, thought I was insane. I asked him to
take a few days and just mull it over. Sure enough,
three days later he called and was actually thrilled
to buy us a bigger house. I've viewed 17th century
stone cottages, Victorian Cotswold stone cottages,
Regency terraced houses, thatched roof cottages as
well as more modern homes. If there is one thing I've
learned from all all this, it's that the English have
quite a penchant for red and/or orange sculpted
carpet.
The kids continue to do well in school. Michael and
Siobhan did very well with their mock Common Entrance
Exams (earning the top marks in the entire class for
history and English, respectively). Michael
inadvertently called me, "sir" the other day. Was I
impressed! Not only was this a telling sign that he
is a polite chap in school, but, on a personal level,
I found this a considerable step up from the Darth
Vader theme song that he usually hums when I walk into
the room.
Ryan is feeling a bit better about his role in
Shakespeare's A Mid-Summer's Night Dream. He found
out that his role is actually a man who PLAYS a woman.
So he'll wear a fake beard AND wear a dress. Somehow
the fake beard makes the whole girl-role more
palatable. He also has to wear a wig, so, I assume,
he'll have lice again before the week is out.
I loved seeing my high school friend, Cindy, last
week. She marveled at how the big kids morphed into
slaves who cleared the table, washed, dried and put
away the dishes as well as put their younger brother
to bed. All the while we sat around. Cindy, a
fashion designer, is tiny. Siobhan was not shy about
holding Cindy accountable for her promise of
hand-me-downs. Cindy had just traveled from Seattle,
to Paris to London to Cheltenham and here was Siobhan
pressing her for freebies. I suppose if I fit in
Cindy's clothes, I'd do the same thing...
Aidan is having his friend, Tilly, over this
afternoon. Having forgotten the buying-of-the-juice
ritual, I am a bit panicky. Aidan wants everything to
be perfect (he insists we bake cookies). He adores
Tilly. He describes her as having "golden curls"
although she has the same white, wispy hair that he
has, only longer. This morning, I ask that he not show
off when Tilly arrived. He asked what showing off
meant. I explained (using examples such as not
throwing toys, not running around screaming, not
making every toy car or train crash with such force it
becomes a hazard, etc.) and he looked up at me,
crushed and said, "But Mom, I like showing off".
But, enough about us. How are YOU doing?
Love,
T-Ann