Leeds Castle

We had heard that rains of biblical proportions were heading our way this weekend. So when we woke up on Saturday and found a beautiful blue sky we knew we had to take advantage. We decided to go to Leeds Castle, which strangely enough is not in Leeds but in Maidstone. Off we went to the train station to catch the train. A few weeks earlier we bought a family discount card which gives us a pretty good discount. As luck would have it, we just missed a train so we got sandwiches and caught the 12:18. By the time we got to our station near the Castle, it was about 1:30. Just in time to catch the 2:00 bus to the castle. If it came. Which it doesn’t - after November 1. We still have so much to learn. A local told us the castle was about 5 miles away. We knew that we would not be able to walk to the castle, tour it and then walk back without a major teenage rebellion. So we decided to walk through the little town, get some exercise, have an early dinner and then head back. Leeds Castle would have to wait for another day. As we were walking downtown, a bus passed us by and stopped on the road. The driver asked us if we were wanting to go to Leeds Castle. When we told him we did, he explained that he took people that had an all-in-one ticket (roundtrip train ticket + castle admission), which we did not but he agreed to sell us a bus ticket and take us there. Yay! Day saved. Although how would we get back. The driver showed us a road right by the castle that would take us to another train station. That station was only about 1 ½ miles from the Castle. We thought we could do that. We knew we could do it when the driver told Chizz there was a good pub down that road!

So we made it to the castle. It is pretty impressive. It actually looks like a castle, where some we have seen don't really look like what you expect a castle to look like. The grounds are very impressive. They have a duckery (every castle should have one) which included ducks, swans, geese, a beautiful pond area. The grounds also include a maze, an aviary, vineyard etc.

We toured inside the castle which is privately owned now. Its last owner was a woman whose uncle was one of the Whitney family of New York and she was a Standard Oil heiress. She married an englishman and bought Leeds castle in the 1920s. She restored quite a bit of it but also used it as her home. It was decorated for Christmas but I think I would have rather not seen it decorated. I didn't care much for the decorations, apparently money doesn't always buy taste. When she died in 1974, the castle was made part of a foundation and is still owned by the foundation today. It is used as a conference center and meeting place. It also sometimes hosts small weddings. Auntie S - want me to check availability?

After we are done touring the castle, we decide to tour the grounds a bit.
Problem -remember those biblical rains - now they come!! We brought our umbrellas but there were also gale force winds but we soldier on. We decide to forego the maze, that will have to wait for a better weather day but we do take in the aviary. Quite a few parrots, macaws that type of bird. We also went through the strangest museum I have ever seen. The Dog Collar Museum. Okay. We went in, they claim to have 400 collars. I am not sure I saw all of them or needed to see all of them. I am not sure if it had anything to do with the rain or the theme of the museum but it did smell alot like wet dog in there. We spent like 2 minutes, and I think Chizz would say it was a minute and a half too long.

By this time, it is raining pretty hard and that walk back to the train station is looking pretty bleak. But we have to get there eventually so we might as well start back when it was still a bit light out So off we go, back through the grounds heading toward the road. We did see a black swam on our way back. We have seen several black swans since we have been here and they are pretty interesting.

We slogged through the mud and pretty hard rain, struggling with our umbrellas. At about a mile or so into the trip, we came across a pub - The Windmill. We sloshed inside. Wet through and through. The waitress couldn't have been nicer. They had a big table by a huge fireplace, I am sure Kiki & Snake could have stood up in it. She took our coats and hung them up so they would dry and basically fussed over us for a few minutes. Our clothes were soaked and I didn't look, but I am sure we left puddles under that table. We ate dinner and by the second beer, we were feeling pretty good. The rain had let up by the time and we were starting to warm up quite a bit. The food was great and the atmosphere perfect. It had all the things we like in a pub, beer, big fireplace, beer, good food, beer, low beamed ceilings, beer. Well fortified,and the rain having subsided greatly, we walked the next half mile to the train station. We were in luck, we only had to wait a few minutes until the next train.

By the time we got back to London, the rain had started again - this time harder even still. We practically swam back to the flat from the tube station. There was one gust of wind that almost blew Chizz out into the street and managed to mangle 2 of our 3 umbrellas. Another day "enjoying" nature in the country. Come visit us!!

Love Brussels, the City Not Necessarily the Sprouts

We had a few days before Christmas and decided to take a quick train trip to Brussels. It takes about 2 hours on the Eurostar. You barely have time to finish a beer or two, barely. It was beautiful.
Belgium is known for quite a few things - waffles, beer and chocolate to name a few, a very important few. I swear the minute you step off the train you can smell the chocolate. I am fairly convinced that they pipe the smell into the station. We went to the Christmas market right off the Grand Place (the huge town square). They had many booths with decorations, food, crafts and other items. Kiki & Snake got waffles with whipped cream and chocolate syrup from a street vendor. Chizz & I chose more "adult" fare, gluhwein - which I think is German for warm wine. I say it is German for good!! Right up my fair loving alley. The Grand Place had a nativity scene with live animals in the manger. Also, there were projected lighted images on the buildings set to music. Reindeer, snowflakes, bubbles. It was pretty cool to see these images projected on the dark buildings. The buildings were beautiful. The Grand Place is also where the Chocolate Museum is located. It has several floors dedicated to the history of chocolate. I am not sure I would call it fascinating but they did give out free samples. There aren't too many museums where they do that or you WANT them to give out free samples. "Here you go, here is a free sample of a carbon dated rock".

Several blocks away there is another plaza where all the major chocolatiers (is that a word, should be) have stores. We tasted chocolate at Wittamer, Godiva, Neuhaus, Pierre Marcolini, Galler. The kids and Chizz went from shop to shop to shop. I can only eat so much chocolate but it was fun watching.


One of the strangest stops on our trip was to see the statue called Manneken Pis. It is a figurine of a little boy, well, relieving himself.
The statue sits upon a fountain and is believed to be around 400 years old. The statute is very often dressed in some kind of costume. Since our trip was in December, he was dressed appropriately. He is reported to have 600 different costumes including an Elvis costume, a condom he wore for World Aids day and a samurai costume. The costumes are on display at a local museum and there is a society in charge of changing the costume of the statue, usually monthly.

We also took a quick train trip to Brugge, a town not far from Brussels. They also have a Christmas market and a fair. It seems like the entire town is lit up with little sparkling lights. One interesting thing about this town is everyone rides bicycles. Everywhere you look there are bikes parked here or there. This is picture of just some of the bikes parted at the train station, there were three other bike pavilions just like this one Unbelievable.

All in all a great get away. One more interesting item. One thing that we have discovered about teenagers, particularly teenage boys, is that there is some regression as they get older. Just like infants, teenage boys have to eat every 2-3 hours. So we have taken to carrying a few provisions in our backpack for when Snake gets hungry so we don't have to stop at a restaurant or snack bar as soon as we get somewhere. Usually cookies, crackers, fruit or something. This time, I brought a few apples from home. When we were coming back on the train, you have to go through security, customs, immigration just like we did when we left London. Kiki, Snake and I sailed through these checkpoints rather quickly. Unfortunately for Chizz, he was pulled aside when they searched his backpack at the Brussels train station on our return. They found the knife that I had put in the apple bag a few days earlier. No big deal we thought, they will just confiscate the knife. It was just a cheap little knife. Nope. The security officer told Chizz,"Just put the knife in the bottom of your bag." Right. Like Snake said, they would probably tell a terrorist, "Its okay to bring your bomb onboard, just put it at the bottom of your bag". That certainly would be a deterrent. "I would take my bomb out now, but it is at the bottom of my bag and its just not worth the trouble getting it out". It would be easy to mock the Belgian security (which I just did) but the people in London didn't find the knife either. Don't you feel secure? Me too.

Merry Christmas to All and to All a Goodnight (and that is what I mean)!

One thing that I love and hate about London at the same time, is its ability to not get caught up in all the politically correct mumbo jumbo that seems to permeate our society right now. Sometimes I am appalled at some of the op-ed pieces I read in the newspapers that I feel are obtuse and hateful. But other times, it is refreshing to hear someone speak exactly what they mean. It is especially notable at the holiday season. No one here is afraid to say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Christmas”. The shopkeepers, pub workers, policemen, will all greet you with a “Merry Christmas”. I haven’t heard Happy Holidays once!

In the United States we have all gotten so afraid of offending the other person that it has reached the ridiculous when it comes to the Holidays. Christian politicians cannot say Merry Christmas or send a greeting card with the nativity scene on it without being told they are “offending” their constituents that aren’t Christians. The Seattle Airport took down all of its Christmas trees display when a rabbi complained. They were afraid to be involved in a lengthy, costly lawsuit. For what? First of all, I don’t think a Christmas tree has a particularly religious connotation any more than Santa Claus does. I don’t recall hearing that either one of them was at the manger. Secondly, so what? Let’s stop keeping score. Two Christmas trees? Need two menorahs!! Or Two Kinaras? Put up a few menorahs if you want or don’t. Apparently when we say Merry Christmas we are really saying “Merry-Christmas-my-religion-and-beliefs-are-more-important-than-yours-you-should-feel-belittled-and-less-of-person-I-am-better-than-you”. I couldn't find a card that expressed that sentiment here (but remember I had trouble finding any kind of appropriate holiday card here). Why can’t people just send a card that expresses their personal joy at this holiday season and have the recipient not feel slighted, offended or a little piqued? Can I get a Happy Hanukkah card from one of my Jewish friends without having to feel that there is some hidden meaning in the card? Why must we use the bland “Happy Holidays” one size fits all greeting this time of year? I wouldn't feel offended if I went somewhere and someone answered my Merry Christmas with a “and a Happy Hanukkah” or a “Happy Kwanza” to you. I think that is the beauty of living in this time, we are exposed to so many different cultures, religions and ideas. Don’t we have enough to worry about right now without worrying what someone is saying when they wish you a “Merry Christmas”? Can't it just mean “Merry Christmas”?

So here, Merry Christmas everyone and I hope you have a great time whatever holiday you celebrate. I personally celebrate Christmas, so that is why I use that greeting. Happy Christmas, Happy Christmas, Happy Christmas!!

Christmas Card Confessions

Bless me friends and family, it has been one year since my last Christmas card to you and it will another year before you see my next card. I had these grand plans of sending you all a photo card of Kiki & Snake in some fun European destination. The photo wasn’t the problem, I had cutes ones of them in Paris, skating in front of the Tower of London, at the Cathedral in Canterbury and messing around at the Dickens Fair. The problem, you ask? I am glad you asked (or I asked for you). Apparently photo cards are not that popular here. I looked all over for the kind of card where you either insert the card into a sleeve in the front or you stick the card on the front with some double sided tape. There were none to be found. Then I thought I might make the kind of cards like you can get at Costco, where I have gotten mine for the last few years, where they print the photo and have a large margin for the greeting. Last year our picture was from Mexico and our greeting – Feliz Navidad. Get it? But I couldn’t find those either. I didn’t think it would be so tough. Even at this late date in Northern California, I could either get them printed at Costco or buy some photo cards at a stationary store. They might not have the design I want but I could find something I could live with. So I thought to myself, “Self, maybe you could find a cute Christmas card with some easily recognized London landmark, say like Big Ben or the Parliament or Buckingham Palace, and insert said cute photo of kids in the envelope.” But I couldn’t find one, cute or otherwise. I let myself down! So I give up. But I promise next year to have a card. I guarantee it! How can I be so sure? Because when I get home this summer, I am going to order them online in the US and take them back with me. That’s how.

So what kinds of Christmas cards are popular here? Well, most of the cards I see are what they call “charity” cards. Meaning that if you buy these cards, a certain percentage of the price goes to that particular charity. You can find them for churches, the cancer society, etc. Very noble. Apparently though, most of the people that buy these charity cards like pictures of little birds in the snow or children pulling sleds up hills or ducks flying over a pond. Nothing says Christmas like a duck flying over a pond. (???)

So forgive me friends and family, we will have no card this year. It doesn’t mean we don’t love or miss you. In fact I think it shows how much we care when we care enough not to send ugly cards. It is our Christmas gift to you that keeps on giving. Happy Christmas (that’s what we say in England) and Best Wishes for a Wonderful New Year.



UPDATE***** After I finished this post, I found some photo cards at a department store. I am still not buying them because it cost 5.95 pounds for 5 cards. Plus there is extra postage. So my rough calculations are that it would cost me about $375-$400 to send photo cards. So I am not. What the heck, we haven’t been gone that long – you remember what Kiki & Snake look like, just add a few inches to their height and you will have the mental picture. Happy Holidays!

O'Little Town of Bethlehem, or whatever

Last Sunday night we finished off our weekend at a “Carol Service”. Apparently this is a British tradition. You go to church and hear nine different readings from the bible leading up to the birth of Christ, interspersed with a hymn and a Christmas Carol. They have these services the Sunday immediately before Christmas (unless Christmas falls on a Sunday or Monday). It was pretty interesting. We were invited to attend by a work colleague of Chizz. His wife is the priest in charge at this particular church. It was a lovely service. For a good portion of the night, all of the parishioners held lit candles. It was beautiful and we managed not to light anything or anyone on fire. The parishioners really got into the service and sang the carols with gusto. There are a lot of Christmas Carols that I had never heard of – “Out of Your Sleep” , “What Sweeter Music” and “Sussex Carol” to name a few. I was getting discouraged perusing the program. I hardly knew any of the songs. Wait, here was one I knew and I liked it “O, Little Town of Bethlehem”. I was excited and I started to sing, when I realized the tune was completely different. The words the same but the music was strange. Another thing I noticed, when I did know the song there were verses I had never seen before. Maybe in the US we get the abridged version of carols so we don’t lose interest, like we have Christmas Carol ADD. I didn’t know any carols had more than 4 verses. According to the program last night, “O Come All Ye Faithful” has 7 verses, 4 of which I am sure I have never heard before. We in the U.S. have been subjected to Carols lite. Rise up!!

After the service, we went back to the vicarage where the priest and her husband, Chizz’s work colleague live. About 15 people were invited back for a bite to eat. We had a great dinner and some even better mulled wine. Kiki & Snake were the only young people there and they represented well. They managed small talk and helped the host clear the dinner plates and serve coffee. We are hoping to hire them out during the holiday season for some extra cash.

It was the first time we were invited to a completely British function. We were the only Americans there. I think we did pretty well, we managed not to put our foots in our mouths or cause any international incidents. Although I did point out that they had the tune to O’Little Town of Bethlehem wrong. Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.

London Weekend

It has been a beautiful weekend. The weather a bracing 40 degrees, not so cold that you couldn’t walk around but cold enough to wear gloves and your scarf and be grateful for them. Chizz and I decided we wanted to go see the huge Christmas tree in Trafalgar square and we nominated Snake to accompany us. Kiki had already set off shopping with a friend. We wanted to go when it was close to dark so we would be able to enjoy the lights so we left at 3:00 p.m.! We took the bus downtown. The bus route travels through Oxford Street, the main shopping area in London. The sidewalks were just jammed full of Christmas shoppers. As much as I love shopping, I don’t think I would have enjoyed having to elbow my way through that crowd. Down Regent Street, less crowed but still pretty full and we got off the bus at Trafalgar Square. The tree is right in the middle of the square in front of the National Gallery. A little bit of trivia about the tree. It has been a gift every year from the Norwegian people to the English people as a thank you for saving their bacon, so to speak, in World War II. Each year someone from the royal family in Norway comes and lights the tree. The tree is about 25 meters tall which approximately 80 feet. However, it is nice to know that the City of London has the same problems as we do with our Christmas tree. I read a few days ago in the paper a story about when the tree arrived at the square. They had set up the crane and were lowering the tree into the stand when they found out the trunk was too big for the stand!
So they had to shave down the trunk – twice – so it would fit. We lucked out because they had a small band and choral group singing Christmas carols in front of the tree. It was lovely, all the people standing on the stairs of the National Gallery singing Christmas carols. Just Snake’s cup of tea. Right.

The next morning we decided to head over to Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park. Speaker’s Corner is a section of Hyde Park where on Sunday morning anyone that cares to can spout off about any topic they want for as long as they want. Sometimes they will draw a crowd and the audience will participate by yelling out comments to the speaker or contrary points of view. The speaker will generally engage back. Usually the speaker brings a step stool or ladder so they can see above the crowd. We went 3 ½ years ago when we were first here with the kids. That was right in the height of the Iraq war and the speakers were very political and very, very, anti-american. I can still remember how surprised the kids were to hear someone speak so vehemently against the U.S. I prepared the kids that they might hear a lot of the same again. Not really. Most of the speakers today were religious fanatics in one way or another. It’s true. Some of them hold up signs while they are talking. One sign we saw today, “To follow Jesus, you must reject God”. Then there was the man who proclaimed in his sign he was a “Christian atheist”. It wasn’t really as much fun as it has been in the past but I think that is the beauty of Speaker’s Corner – on any given Sunday, there can be any different mix of speakers. Sometimes it is fascinating, sometimes not.

But there was something else pretty interesting at Speaker’s Corner. Actually someone. Chizz sidles over to me and says “look at that tall guy over there, he looks familiar”. “Isn’t that Rick Steves?” For those of you that don’t know him, Rick Steves is a travel guy who has travel shows on public television and the Travel Channel. He also has a very successful line of guidebooks. When we were planning our move here, we watched his program every week to get in the mood! I wasn’t so sure, so we followed him from speaker to speaker to get a better look. I prefer the word ‘follow’; Kiki used the word ‘stalk’. Yes, that was him alright. He was very interested in the speakers and went from group to group listening and even took a few pictures with his digital camera. He laughed quite a bit at some of the give and take between the speakers and the crowd. I don’t think anyone else recognized him or if they did, you couldn’t tell. When we got home, I checked his website for a picture and I am definitely sure that was him. Especially since I saw on the website, he is leading a tour of London starting this afternoon. That’s what I love about the internet, it makes it easier to stal- I mean follow people. Based on the tour itinerary posted on the website we might just “run into” Rick again, say on Saturday at the British Museum. Stalk, follow, stalk, follow, who’s to say?

THE Reason My Mom Could Never Live Here

Those of you who know my mom know that one of her many talents is the ability to scope out a bargain or two. In fact she is so renowned in this area, that nothing pleases my sisters and me more than to get a better bargain than her. We are known to crow about it for years (mostly because it doesn’t happen that often and we lead very empty lives). Another one of her fortes is to always have the right gift box for any gift. That is mainly because my mother has never thrown away a gift box. I am pretty sure never in her entire life. We have gift boxes in our house that date back to the Nixon administration (the first one). They don’t get thrown out, they disintegrate. My mother considers it a mortal sin to buy an item (regardless of whether it is a gift or not) at a department store or any store for that matter, and not ask for a complimentary gift box. It doesn’t matter whether you need the box now, you will need it later. She has been with me in a store when I have neglected to ask for a box and the intake of breath was so sharp I thought she was having an asthma attack and couldn’t breathe. And don’t even get her started about paying for gift boxes. She believes those who pay for gift boxes deserve to be gouged because they didn’t plan ahead. Although we had better not pay for a gift box in her presence.

The reason I got on this subject is that I am in full Christmas shopping swing. I have been for a few weeks, it just takes longer when you have to bring it home on the bus (I know I talk about that a lot but it is a pain!). A few weeks ago, I bought a clothing item in the John Lewis department store, which is London’s Macys. I asked for a gift box. The woman looked at me very strangely, “What is it you are wanting, a gift box?” “Yes”, I said very slowly “In . . . order . . . to. . . wrap. . . the . . .clothing”. I wasn’t sure if we had a language issue or I spoke too fast or what. I pointed out it was a Christmas gift and she said “Oh, well we wouldn’t have those yet – its not Christmas”. It was November 27. She assured me that they would have them within a few weeks. I have been back to that store three times, they don’t have gift boxes and they won’t be getting them. They don’t give away complimentary gift boxes!! What?!!? And before you get on John Lewis, I have been to other stores in London and they don’t give them out either. It is worthy to note though that even the concept of a complimentary gift box is foreign here. A few times when I have asked I have been treated to such odd looks that I have wondered whether “gift box” is some drug euphemism I don’t know about. “C’mon baby, just give me a small ‘gift box’ to get me through the night” or “Jeez, did you see Jake he got some bad ‘gift box’ yesterday”.

So Mother, I just had to let you know about the gift box problem in this country. I am thinking of starting some kind of gift box awareness campaign. I will let you know how it goes. But in the meantime, I may have to buy gift boxes this year. I know, I know, it serves me right. I didn’t plan ahead by moving my gift boxes trans-atlantically. Forgive me?

O' Tannenbaum!

Never having lived in city before (okay, okay, I lived in SF before, but I didn't buy a tree there), we weren't quite sure how to go about getting a tree. Usually we drove to a Christmas tree lot or two, found the perfect tree and loaded it on our car. Since we don't have a car, we couldn't do two of those three things. So I did some research and found a lot close to our home. The kids, actually having social lives, abdicated their roles in choosing the tree to Chizz and I. So off we went in search of our first international tree. It was a crystal clear morning and a brisk 39 degrees but it was a nice walk. We walked through a neighborhood that we have never been through before and that is always interesting.

We arrived at the lot and surveyed the trees. The lot is really just a corner sidewalk with a few trees scattered here and there. At most 20 trees opened up but there were some trees still in their netting waiting to be opened and displayed. We were happy to discover that trees cost pretty much the same as in our old neighborhood in California. I didn't like any of the trees that were currently being displayed. One was too tall, this one too bare, the next one too bushy, another too short. My name is Wendy, and I am a Christmas-tree-aholic. I have to look at every tree and make the tree lot staff open up more trees. After looking and rejecting several trees, the lot guy finally asked me to tell him what was wrong with the trees I had been rejecting so he might be able to help us find the perfect tree. So I told him, it couldn’t be too tall, too small, too bushy, too sparse; it had to have the right shape and the right kind of top branch for the star. For some reason, he didn’t find those words helpful. Finally after three more trees lost their white plastic coats, we found our tree. It is not perfect but it is good. All three of us, Chizz, me and the tree lot guy heaved big sighs of relief.

After paying for the tree and the new stand, I told Chizz this place would deliver, which my friend the tree guy confirmed they could deliver later that night between 7 - 10 p.m. For £14.95 (about $30.00). I was already to sign up but Chizz heard £14.95 and the next thing I know, he is picking up our tree and walking down the block. Mind you it is probably 15 city blocks to our home, with an 8 ft Christmas tree on his shoulder. We had a few rest breaks, an 8 ft tree is not heavy as it is awkward. Finally the cavalry came in the form of a lean 13-year-old boy, Snake. With one at the top of the tree and the other carrying the trunk, we made it home.

It has been decorated and here it is- our first International Tree. OOOOOh! AAAAAh!

Quick! Get Me My Ruby Slippers!

Yesterday, we woke up to pounding rain. Not unusual in London. In fact most days lately include some rain. We are learning not to go anywhere, even to the corner to buy a newspaper, without our umbrellas in hand. Even if you wake up to blue sky, it is wise to tuck a small one in your purse, backpack or pocket. Included in yesterday’s rain was a pretty powerful wind, which really renders umbrellas quite useless.

I have a new friend here in London and we have made it our goal in the first year to go to all the big shopping areas. We are methodically checking them off our list, one by one. So yesterday was Sloane Square. That is the neighborhood where Princess Diana lived before she was married and before she was a Princess. So while we were in the sports store buying Snake some swim goggles, it just started raining like crazy. A bit of hail came down and because of the wind, it just pelted the windows. It sounded like someone throwing dozens of pebbles at the windows continuously. The shop workers were freaked and urged us to stay in the store until the hail was over. We were glad to oblige. When we walked to the next store, it was only raining but we really couldn’t use our umbrellas. So we just stayed in the stores a bit longer than we usually would and amused ourselves. You can guess how.

When I get home, I hear that a tornado had touched down in London. Holy Wicked Witch of the West, Batman!! It happened right around the time of the hail. Not in the neighborhood we were in but very close to where we live. It damaged 100 homes, 24 are completely destroyed. Pretty amazing. I guess it is not that surprising so much damage was done given the density of housing in London. I would think it would be the same amount of damage if a tornado had touched down in San Francisco. The neighborhood this happened in is just 2 neighborhoods over, a 20-minute bus ride – which isn’t that far. Apparently the winds were clocked at 130 mph.

Now weird coincidence. Kiki is going to see the play Wicked tonight in London with some of her friends (her third time). For those of you just coming out of your 4 year old coma, Wicked is a play about the good witch and bad witch in the Wizard of Oz and how they met many years prior to Dorothy, Toto, The Scarecrow, et. al. I shudder to think what might have happened to London if she was going to see Dirty Dancing instead!

A Tale of Two Cities

You may recall I mentioned traveling through Rochester on our way to Canterbury when our friends from Boston were visiting. At the time I saw an advertisement for a “Dickensian Christmas Fair” this past weekend and I must admit, I was intrigued. Dickens apparently spent much of his childhood in Rochester area and it is the background for some of his works, such as the Pickwick Papers and the Mystery of Edwin Drood. It also has a cathedral and the ruins of a castle, so I knew Chizz would go. As for the children, we did what any normal parents would – we forced them. So we left London for the day in Rochester.

We are getting good at going places by train, but we are learning the trains are less frequent on Sundays. Nevertheless, we arrived at Rochester and we prepared for a cute, small town festival. It was extremely quaint and although the town is small, the festival is not. It pretty much takes over the entire town. I think just about the entire town dresses up as some character from one of Dickens’ stories. We saw Scrooge, Mr. Pickwick and his gentlemen friends, Miss Havisham, the ghost of Christmas past. The main street has adorable little shops. At several points on the main street, they had “snow” machines, which blew fake snow all over the place. This festival took up the whole town. There were street performers, carnival rides, mulled wine booths, craft fairs. It was great.

All of this lost on Chizz of course. We did do a tour of the castle ruins at Rochester. They are pretty interesting. The castle was built sometime before 1086 A.D by the Normans. The castle isn’t completely ruined; it is really more of a shell. In the main part of the building, there are no floors but you can see where the floor joists were and it is not hard to imagine people living there. You can walk up the steep side staircases to certain parts of the castle that are still intact. It must have been very, very cold and dark there a majority of the time. Apparently it was here that King Henry VIII met Anne of Cleves, his 4th wife. You may recall that Anne is the wife that Henry VIII felt deceived about. Because he was very shallow, he was concerned only about her looks and sent people to spy on her prior to the marriage to make sure she was attractive. These spies were worried about how they should represent her so essentially they lied to him, telling him the 16th century equivalent of “she has a good personality”. I think this is the reason they brought her to Rochester Castle to meet him for the first time, it is so dark there after 3:30 in the afternoon, that you can’t really see very well. The darkness along with the flickering candlelight probably prevented him from getting a good look at her there. By the time the wedding wine wore off, he was stuck.

At dark, there was a parade led by an all bagpipe band. Then all the characters marched through carrying candle lanterns, and a few military bands dressed in period costumes. By the time the parade was over, the cathedral was closed. We will save that for another time.

All in all a good day. Although I have decided that I will no longer take Chizz to any event that has the words fair or festival in them, he just doesn’t enjoy them. Unless, of course, the word “beer” precedes the words fair or festival.

More Canterbury Tales

It was the last day in England for the Rs and we wanted to do something fun. So we decided to take the train down to Canterbury, look around the village, the Cathedral, see where Thomas Becket was killed etc. Unfortunately the weather was not cooperating. We woke up that day to a huge rainstorm. It was raining as hard as I have ever seen it. A bit of hail, some thunder and lightening and our trip was looking like it might not take place. Good thing for us that Mr. R. is pretty adventurous. He lobbied for going anyway, weather be damned. The worst that could happen would be that we would have a good train rain, a nice pub Sunday roast lunch and perhaps get little wet while absorbing some history. Sounds simple? Well no.

After we bought the tickets, we couldn’t find the train anywhere on the departures board. Turns out, there is no direct train to Canterbury that day because they are doing work on the track. So we need to take a train to Strood, get off, take a bus to Gillingham (pronounced Jillinghum) then get on the train there and get to Canterbury. Great. Maybe we can get a refund? Yes if we fill out these three forms, mail them in and then wait for a decision in the next 2-3 weeks. So once again, Mr. “it-will-be-fine” R and his friend, Chizz “I am sure I can find us pub there” W. suggest we sally forth. Which we do. The ride there is always fun. The kids were excited on the train and were very loud. The bus ride took us through Strood, which makes Slough the home of the UK “the Office” look posh. We also went through Rochester, which was very quaint and cute. It has a castle, cathedral and very adorable village that is hosting a Dickens fair next weekend. If I can get the kids organized, we might go – now that I know how to get there on the train.

We finally get to Canterbury. Walking from the train station, we came up on a little festival that mostly had food stalls. We sipped hot chocolate with brandy (parents only) and walked through the festival. The kids bought Madeleine cookies and gummy worms.

The cathedral at Canterbury is magnificent. There were services going on because it was a Sunday but we were able to see quite a bit of the church and hear one of the choirs sing. We saw the memorial to Thomas Becket, an Archbishop of Canterbury who was murdered by monks in 1170 and wandered around the churchyard. We found a cute little pub called Simple Simon in Canterbury. It is one of the oldest buildings in Canterbury, believed to have been built in the late 14th or early 15th centuries. The atmosphere was great; wood fires, low ceilings, cold beer, good food.

See above bus-train route, go backwards. Pretty much the same except for some local boys on bikes trying to put the moves on the girls. Good thing they had Snake there because he “was getting ready to say something” to them.

Our time with the Rs was fun but over way too quickly. Since they had to get up pretty early the next morning, we said goodbye to them right there on the underground train. I am sure the other passengers were enthralled.

Now we don’t have any visitors coming for quite some time. Anyone want to visit London in January, anyone at all??

Buy Two T-Shirts and Call Me in The Morning

Bon Mots from our friend Emily. We were discussing the various places our visitors would like to see when they were here and the girls were discussing perhaps doing some shopping. One of the places Emily wanted to go to was Topshop, a very popular local store. She was lobbying, unsuccessfully as it turns out, for the shopping trip and suddenly comes out with “I would really like to go to Topshop. It was recommended by my doctor”. She said it in that commercially voice like “4 out of 5 doctors recommend Topshop”. Or “my doctor recommends I get more shopping in my diet”. Apparently during her last doctor’s appointment, Emily mentioned visiting London and the doctor told her about this store. Like everyone doesn’t already know that shopping helps you live longer--- just like red wine. Purely medicinal.

Skating London Style

Our friends from Boston, the Rs are visiting us. They have been to London several times before and have done quite a bit of the “usual” things to do here. So in our role as hosts we wanted to come up with some fun things to do that you couldn’t do just anywhere. I think we found it.

We knew the R girls liked to ice skate because when we all lived in California, we used to rent a ski house every winter. Usually one or two times during the ski season we would take the kids to Squaw Valley in Lake Tahoe. At the top of one its mountains, Squaw had a skating rink and tube run. The kids loved the day off from the skis and went from skating to inter-tubing all day long, with a several hot chocolate breaks mixed in. So I heard that there were several ice skating places in London so I thought we could do that. But Chizz told me he heard something about skating at the Tower of London. So I checked into it and found they actually set up a skating rink in the moat! How cool is that? Wait, don’t answer – I will answer for you. Pretty darn cool!!! Here is a picture so you get the idea.


The kids skated for an hour with the Tower of London right in the background. Not many people can say they ice skated in the moat of the palace where Sir Walter Raleigh was imprisoned or Anne Boleyn got her head chopped off . We got some great photos. In fact for those of you that know both us and the Rs, you might get the same Christmas card photo this year – deal with it!

Some Things I Am Thankful For

In the spirit of the day, I have been thinking of some of the things I am thankful for and because I feel like all my posts lately have been of a complaining nature, I thought I would share. In no particular order of importance:

- Most of my family, here and there, is generally happy. Oh sure, there are health issues for some, money issues for others, political concerns for a few but over all, I think most of us are pretty content.

- Free “newspapers” (tabloids) on the buses and tube

- Chizz loves his job. It is wonderful to see him enjoying his work, being challenged and knowing that he is making an impact.

- Some of our very best friends, the Rs are here from the greater Boston area. Chizz went to college with Mrs. R (MR) many, many, moons ago (sorry guys I call ‘em like I see ‘em). We reconnected with them about 5 years ago when we both lived in Northern California, only a few miles away from each other. They have 2 daughters, roughly our kids’ ages. The Rs plus a few other couples still in Northern California made up our “posse” for quite a few years. So it is like having some of our family with us for Thanksgiving. Holidays are always better with family around. Who else will do the dishes?

- Double Cream in England. Yuma (sorry Rachel), makes mashed potatoes even better.

- Kids are happily settled in school. They have good groups of friends and are in the swing socially.

- Mah Jonging twice in my last game

- Sticky Toffee Pudding

- Skype with our video connection. Is it perfect? No but it is pretty darn good when you think that it helps us stay connected to everyone so far away. We were able to see our niece walk today for the first time. (It wasn’t her first time, it was ours seeing her.) We miss everyone so much and this helps us stay in touch and close. Considering that it is free when we call computer to computer, it is pretty amazing.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!






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Buying a Turkey? Don't Forget Your Measuring Tape!

I went to the store to buy our Thanksgiving turkey. Of course, they don't really celebrate Thanksgiving here. After Halloween, it is Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. But our neighborhood has a lot of Americans, so the local merchants have adapted - urging us to order our turkeys early, stocking cranberries early, advertising the right wine to go with our turkeys. Since we don't have a car the shopping has to be done in stages. I can only carry home so much on the bus! Adding to the degree of difficulty is my oven. We have a smaller oven on top and only a slightly larger oven on the bottom. The top oven has worked but only can fit an 11 X 7 pan - hardly large enough for a chicken let alone a turkey. The larger oven has a broken temperature dial which I have been after our building repair man to fix since we moved here but although he is very kind, he seems to have lost our address because he hasn't made it here yet. I think I can get the oven up to 425 degrees so I am going to cross my fingers on Thanksgiving that it will all work out okay. So off I went to the grocery store. When I got there, the turkey bin was completely empty!!! Had all the Americans scurried down here and gobbled up all the turkeys? Did the early Americans get the birds? I spoke to the manager, with a slight shrill to my voice, I admit. No, not all the turkeys were gone but the refrigeration was broken in that bin. So he had to go to the back to get a turkey. So what size did I want? Well, I told him, pulling out my measuring tape - it could be no bigger than 38 cm because that was the biggest pan I could get in my oven. I showed him on the measuring tape. We looked at several turkeys, my friend Tony & I, measuring each turkey to see if it would fit. Tony took it all in stride. He confided he had alot of American customers but none had asked him up to this point to measure their turkeys. Finally we agreed that the fourth turkey was the perfect size and I brought it home. I wonder why Martha and Williams Sonoma don't have a measuring tape on their Thanksgiving checklists? Now I have to try and fit the turkey in my tiny, tiny fridge. Oh the glamour of an international life!

Chizz, I Have a Feeling We Aren't in California Anymore

One of the biggest news stories in London is the congestion charge. It is a charge instituted by the city that basically charges drivers for using the roads in central London. Right now the congestion charge is £8.00 per day for all vehicles except those who are exempted from the charge (alternative fuel vehicles, hybrids etc.). Recently the Mayor of London, Ken Livingstone, has proposed an elevated congestion charge with a maximum of £25.00 per day. The new charges would be emissions based. The maximum rate would apply to the highest polluting cars (those that emit more than 225g per kilometer) such as 4x4s, SUVs, luxury sedans. Those people unfortunate enough to live in the congestion fee area can file for a reduced rate but are not exempted from the charge. Of course, those screaming the loudest are the ones that most likely can actually afford the congestion charge – the drivers of the SUVs and other luxury vehicles. I say luxury because the price of gas in London isn’t cheap. Currently the gas runs about 84 pence per liter. That amount roughly translates to about $5.75 per gallon. So if you are driving one of these huge cars, it costs approximately $125 to fill your tank. Londoners would love to pay the $2.25 per gallon I grumpily paid last summer.

Needless to say the papers have been talking about this for weeks. The new charges most likely wouldn’t go into effect for another 3 years or so but who knows. All of the major papers and the rags as well have had editorial after editorial on the subject. Most people like the idea of sticking it to the drivers of SUVs, who have become the most hated people on the planet. So I read with interest a column this week in London’s Evening Standard, a broadsheet that dabbles in news -- sometimes. I don’t particularly care for the columnist, Will Self. I find him pretentious. I read something in his ES column the other day that I found shocking. I had to look and make sure that it wasn’t satire. It wasn’t and I can only assume it is his true feeling. Let me quote the passage I am referring to: (I apologize for the length but I want to give some context)

“The same fury has met the extension of the congestion-charging zone to include Kensington and Chelsea; as if the only people who drove through the hallowed royal borough were Sloanes in Range Rovers. If only this were so! And if only it were also true that the rich alone drove high-emission vehicles. Then, taking £125 a week off them would be a painless way of raising revenue, given that they could well afford it.

But sadly, quite as many – if not more – people on lower incomes are equally hooked on their anti-social, paranoid, polluting status symbols. Round my way you see plenty of black drivers in their 4X4s – and I hardly think they’re on their way to the Hurlingham.”
(Note by WTF Hurlingham is a very exclusive polo club in London)

WHAT???!!!??? I had to read this about 6 times before I came to grips with the fact that this guy actually implied that the black drivers in his neighborhood must be poor and that they couldn’t afford the congestion fee. Racism is alive and well here in London. I have seen subtle and not so subtle signs of it. There was a very highly publicized case in London a few years back where the police shot a man at a Tube station because they thought he might be a terrorist connected to the failed tube bombings just the day before. It turns out that he was a Brazilian citizen and pretty much the police might have shot him because he looked Arabic. It was pretty much accepted that might be the reason. Assumptions are made here very often on the basis of race or color. Another highly debated subject is whether Muslim women should be allowed to wear the veil in the workplace. I am not sure I understand the different methodology of dressing in the Muslim faith when it comes to women. Some Muslim women wear western clothing but cover their heads. Some wear long flowing robes and veils but don’t cover their faces. Some wear veils that cover every possible bit of skin except the eyes. As best as I can figure out, the level of modesty correlates to how orthodox the believer is. But the debate has taken a slightly paranoid and, I think, racist edge. What are these women hiding? Why don’t they show their faces? Why do they have to is my question? I do think they should be required to for passports, drivers’ licenses and other methods of identification. But why does it matter if they wear a veil to work? Now if employers don’t choose to hire a woman wearing a veil that is their prerogative. No PC bull here in London. The only way to illegally discriminate in London is to do so based on gender or race. You can happily not hire any Muslim, Jew or Catholic. You can refuse to hire someone based on age or physical disability.

London is a very cosmopolitan city. I am not that naïve to believe racism has been abolished but I am amazed to find that it is tolerated. There has been no uproar, no outcry, no notice. Can you imagine that happening in the United States? Or California? That columnist would have been called to task and most likely fired. Careers have been ruined for less. A sports radio talk show host was fired for referring to slumping players by their nationality and comparing the team manager's mind to a hot breakfast cereal. I think the quote was "brain dead Carribean hitters" and his "mind has turned into Cream of Wheat". I think that radio host could possibly have a long career here calling rugby and football matches and say whatever he wants.

I will do my bit, I will pen an email to the editor voicing my objection and will probably not buy this paper for a bit. Somehow I think I am spitting into the wind. Ewwww. Exactly.

Did You See It??

Well, the proverbial cat is out of the bag. Remember a few days back, Auntie S. and her significant other, Matador were our first official visitors? While here they took a side trip to Paris and Matador became a lot more significant, they got engaged!! Very romantic. Surprised? Well, you shouldn’t be. The loyal readers of Wind the Frog were some of the first to know. Do you recall my post slyly called “Just a Little News"”? Go back and read it again. Now look at the first letter of each sentence. Here is the post again formatted in a more helpful way.

The house is a bit quieter.
Having four teenagers in the house increases the noise volume in the flat quite a bit.
Early yesterday morning Kiki walked the Belgian girls to the bus at the school

Yesterday, we all went to the Lord Mayors Parade.
All of us, Auntie S. & Matador (back from their quick trip from Paris), Chizz, Kiki, Snake & I.
Remarkably, the weather was quite good again.
Each trade and branch of the military had a float.

Everyone agreed a little parade goes a long way.
Next off to the pub (of course, because every outing with
Chizz involves a trip to the pub at some point.)
Good thing the parade ended right near the George; a pub across the street the Royal Courts of Justice.
After a couple of pints and some bangers and mash, fish and chips, steak pie and a BLT, we caught a bus back up Oxford
Street and saw the Christmas decorations.
Gosh the traffic was awful, it took an hour to go ½ mile but gave us ample opportunity to see the decorations up close and
personal.

Eventually we made it home and went on a pub crawl; four of our favorite pubs in the neighborhood.
Drinks and dinner were great and there are blackmail photographs!

See it yet? T. H. E. Y. A. R.E. E.N.G.A.G.E.D. I must credit both Chizz and Auntie S., they helped me when I was stuck for a word or two or sixteen. Now starts the part of the wedding process that Chizz loves the best, the planning and the talking about every single detail several hundred times. All of us at WTF (hey I just got that - it works!), Wendy, Chizz, Kiki & Snake are very happy for Auntie S. and Matador, soon to be Uncle M. or the Uncle formally known as Matador. We might have to work on that title a bit. Congrats!!!!

Harvest Festival with a Twist, Literally

As many of you know, I love a good harvest festival. Every year I have gone with my Aunt to the Harvest Festival in San Francisco. It is usually right around this time of year. If you haven’t been to a harvest festival before, it is a market where people bring their products for sale. It is usually things like decorative items, toys, and food products. Some of the things were really tacky, some were beautifully made, some food items we bought year after year after year. We loved it. We usually managed to do quite a bit of Christmas shopping at the Harvest Festival, but mostly for ourselves!! It was our tradition.

I was feeling a bit blue about missing it this year. It really signaled the beginning of the holidays for me and I miss my aunt. One of the women I met here invited me to go to a Christmas Fair at a local convention center. I didn’t know if it was much like the Harvest Festival but I decided it might be fun. It ended up being a lot of fun. It is very much like the Harvest Festival but I think it was bigger. I bought some Christmas decorations, pillow covers, a present or two, and a sticky toffee pudding. The food is always the best part of a Harvest Festival and this one was not a disappointment. In fact this one had something that makes it better in one respect: ALCOHOL!!! Yes, we were able to taste many different alcohol products. I tasted wine, sloe gin, wine, sloe whiskey, wine, rum, wine, whiskey, wine. You get the idea. This is definitely a country with a drinking culture. You can taste wine at the supermarket and the harvest festival. Your 15 year old can carry wine in her luggage.

All in all the Christmas Fair was a good substitute for the Harvest Festival with one notable exception. My aunt. So I think I need to start a new tradition, Harvest Festival in London every year. What do you think Auntie M???

Just a Little News

The house is a bit quieter. Having four teenagers in the house increases the noise volume in the flat quite a bit. Early yesterday morning Kiki walked the Belgian girls to the bus at the school

Yesterday, we all went to the Lord Mayors Parade. All of us, Auntie S. & Matador (back from their quick trip from Paris), Chizz, Kiki, Snake & I. Remarkably, the weather was quite good again. Each trade and branch of the military had a float. Everyone agreed a little parade goes a long way. Next off to the pub (of course, because every outing with Chizz involves a trip to the pub at some point.) Good thing the parade ended right near the George; a pub across the street the Royal Courts of Justice. After a couple of pints and some bangers and mash, fish and chips, steak pie and a BLT, we caught a bus back up Oxford Street and saw the Christmas decorations. Gosh the traffic was awful, it took an hour to go ½ mile but gave us ample opportunity to see the decorations up close and personal.

Eventually we made it home and went on a pub crawl; four of our favorite pubs in the neighborhood. Drinks and dinner were great and there are blackmail photographs!

No Room at the Inn

We are full to the rafters. The school is hosting the Girls Varsity soccer tournament and 12 teams from Europe and the Middle East are participating. Our school is in charge of finding housing for all of the girls and as parents of a girl soccer player, we are expected to come up with a bed or two for their use. We did, or Kiki did. It isn’t easy because the tournament is the same week Auntie S. and Matador are visiting, although they are on a side trip to Paris for a few days. It is crowded but we are making do.

The girls staying in our house are from Brussels. They go to the International School there and they are both lovely. One is German and the other is from Brazil. They both speak excellent English, unaccented to my ear. They are very friendly, outgoing, polite and sweet. Kiki was a little worried that she might not have a lot to say to these girls but it has been like a three night sleepover at our house, giggling, watching MTV and messaging friends – and that is just Chizz. Seriously, it shows that kids are pretty much the same everywhere. They like the same televisions shows, have Myspace pages, shop at the same stores, like some of the same music. The Brussels girls couldn’t wait to go to Starbucks the other morning, apparently they don’t have Starbucks in Brussels but it didn’t stop the girls from being very familiar with the red cups and have their own favorite coffee drinks. Tonight Kiki is taking them downtown to do a bit of shopping and see the Christmas lights which were officially lit earlier this week. They leave tomorrow after their final games.

Oh yeah, the soccer has been good too. So far the Brussels girls are 2-1, our school is undefeated but I understand the games have been very competitive. Kiki’s JV team won their tournament and finished the season undefeated and didn’t have one goal scored on them all season. No rest for the wicked, though swim team starts in 5 days!!

The Price to Pay (or Stay)

We have our first visitors! Yay! Auntie S. and her significant other, Matador, have come to visit us for a few days. We don’t charge any money to stay in our lovely abode but consideration is required. Consideration in the form of items missed from home. I sent Auntie S. a list and boy did she come through!! Take a look at this loot:


Now Matador gets credit for tracking down some of the items, most notably the Bells Poultry Seasoning. This is the secret ingredient (not so secret now, I guess) in my grandmother’s stuffing recipe. Not only do they not carry Bells here, which is not really a huge shock, I haven’t even seen poultry seasoning in any brand or form. So at least the stuffing will be the same. Of course, I may not have a turkey since my oven isn’t really working but that is another battle. And we will have pumpkin pie. I have seen canned pumpkin here but it is frightfully expensive so I asked her to bring a bit with her and she did!! Some of the other items; bleach pens, Mr. Clean magic erasers, microwave popcorn, chocolate chips, macaroni & cheese (Kraft of course), chili mix. There were a few other things in there but you get the gist. Now, if anyone can figure out how to sneak my nieces and nephews over in a suitcase, they can stay a month!!

It's Here!!!

Winter that is. The weather in London has been fairly mild up to this point. I usually only need a sweater or light jacket when going out - even at night time. Yesterday, Snake and I went to Kiki's soccer game. The games are in a nearby park. Before I left, I took a glance at our outside thermometer. 45 degrees at 2:15 p.m. A bit chilly so I added a scarf, gloves and a sweater under my coat. Snake insisted he was "fine" with his sweatshirt. When we arrived at the park, it was pretty comfortable but a bit brisk. Then the cloud cover came and it must have dropped 10-15 degrees. Snake jumped up and down to try and keep warm, even offered to go in a play for a bit if the coach needed him. Apparently the coach did not. Because the field does not have lights and the time change, the soccer game was abbreviated. So we were able to leave after about 1 1/2 hours. On the way home, Snake volunteered that he might just need a new jacket for our stay here. Right.

We walked very quickly to the nearest Starbucks for lattes and hot chocolate. (Side complaint - the red holiday cups are here. You know what that means, gingerbread and eggnog lattes. My favorite - pumpkin spice latte. THEY DON"T HAVE THOSE HERE!! I asked the barista and they told me that Pumpkin spice wasn't popular here and they haven't had it for years. Hmph!! I don't think pumpkin is very popular in any form - a few weeks ago I got three pumpkin candles, great smell, at 75% off. Anyway - I am rambling.) So when we got home the temperature gauge said 35 degrees. Cold, cold, cold. I have a feeling pumpkin spice latte or not, we will be seeing alot of Starbucks this winter.

By the way, Kiki's team didn't need Snake or, suprisingly enough, me. They won their game 8-0. So far this season no goals scored on them.

Auntie S. are you paying attention??

Halloween in the UK

Before we came over here, we were under the impression that certain holidays were only celebrated in the United States - Halloween, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July. Although I love pointing out to the kids that of course they have Fourth of July in England, it comes right between the third and fifth of July. Usually that punch line is met with an eye roll or two. So in fear that I wouldn’t be able to find anything appropriate, I brought big Rubbermaid containers filled with some of our favorite holiday decorations over with us. Actually I think Halloween is slowly and surely being adopted in the UK. It started mostly in the neighborhoods with the highest number of American residents. Now it has caught on; with the fire being fueled by the biggest Halloween lovers of them all - the greeting card and candy manufacturers. Most of the grocery stores carry “carving pumpkins”, treat sized candy bars and Halloween costumes. It cost me about $8.00 for two pumpkins the size of large cantaloupes. I am glad that I brought our decorations with us because there are still not many decorations in the store. Mostly things like paper skeletons, pictures of witches, etc. No motion activated Frankensteins or battery operated flying bats, no scary music cds or cute Halloween t-shirts.

I had been told that there would be some trick-or-treating done in our neighborhood. Because we have lots of Americans, I am not sure whether that is the reason or if Halloween has truly been embraced by the British. I also understand that in the past there is quite a bit of the trickery in trick or treat here, regardless of whether one has been provided a treat or not. Apparently the local constables are not too fond of Halloween (but I think that is true in the United States as well).

So I purchased several bags of candy in anticipation. In our US neighborhood, we didn’t usually get trick or treaters because we lived on a rural road and until 2 years ago didn’t even have a sidewalk. Once we got the sidewalk it didn’t change because traditions had already been established and most people in our area went to a certain neighborhood. So Snake and I weren’t sure what to expect. Chizz had a work function and Kiki was at a soccer team dinner downtown. Because we live in 3 flat building with buzzers and a foyer, I knew many parents wouldn’t even try to navigate that tough security. So we marched down to our front stoop with our lighted cantaloupe-pumpkin and waited. Fueled with wine for me and Dr. Pepper for Snake, we waited. Not long. I think trick or treating starts earlier here, about 5:00. That is because it starts getting dark at 3:30 – no lie! We were pleasantly surprised; we had quite a few kids drop by. I would say as many British kids as Americans. Our candy ran out after about 2 hours.

Our scary hand trick or treat candy bowl was quite the hit. You know the one, it has the rubber hand in the middle of the bowl and it is motion activated, the minute someone sticks his/her hand in the bowl to get a piece of candy the hand goes down and a scary voice says one of three things “Want some Candy?, Trick or Treat or Happy Halloween”. Except our bowl is very old, the rubber hand has a rip in it and has some its stuffing showing. It is very temperamental, as some of us get in our advanced years, and doesn’t go off every time – only when it feels like it. Still, since the decorations are fairly simple here – this was the hit of the street. Parents and kids alike were touching the hand. I heard “that’s brilliant” more than “trick or treat”. Sadly this bowl will be retired this year, the replacement already on its way to our US address to be brought back to London next year. Maybe I should buy a gross and when someone expresses interest next year, I can pull one out and say “Want one? Only £20.00!” Trick or Treat!

My Hero

As many of you know, Chizz sometimes has the knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time - terrorist sites, Heathrow when he is supposed to be a Gatwick, SFO when he supposed to be at Oakland airport, the other end of a golf club that has just hit a ball that just sliced into the knee of a non-English speaking Japanese employee of the Korean consulate, etc. Well, it appears the shoe is on the other foot here. The other night when he was rushing off to the gym, Chizz was walking along admiring the architecture (or so he told me) when he noticed across the street what appeared to be a body on the ground between two cars. He walked over to get a better look and it indeed turned out to be a body on the ground, a body of a woman. She was conscious but understandably very upset. She had fallen down between the cars and either wouldn't or couldn't get up. Chizz tried to ascertain whether she had been injured but she was not very coherent. He wasn't sure whether she had a few drinks at the local pub to unwind or if she had hurt herself and was in some kind of shock. He was able to determine that she just lived a few houses down, so he went down to her house and brought back her husband. Between the two of them, they were able to get her up and get her to her house. She did not want an ambulance and we surmise that she had spent the preceding hours at the pub which probably caused her fall. Kind of a strange way to start your workout, which is why I don't go to the gym. Right.

So, yesterday Chizz and I decided we were tired of looking at the dead plants in our planter boxes and appointed ourselves building gardeners. We were going to set off to the local Homebase and pick up some plants. Kiki was off with friends and Snake was staying in to do homework. We went out our flat and into our building foyer, when Chizz stops dead in his tracks, cocks his head to one side and appears to be listening. I am thinking perhaps he heard Snake calling after us, so I say "Did you hear Snake calling after us?" Original, huh? He shushed me!! He goes to the apartment door of our neighbor and says "Are you okay?" We hear a feeble, "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up". I have to fight back the urge to tell her to use her Life Alert button. But she tells us that she has fallen and can't move to open the door. I have seen her around the apartment building before, she is unsteady on her feet and I think she is probably in her late 70s. I call 999 (the UK equivalent of 911) and ask for an ambulance but I explain to the operator that I am not sure how they are going to get in the apartment. The operator says that she will also send the police and they will get into the apartment somehow. Within 5 minutes, the ambulance arrives with 3 attendants. The attendants go through our apartment and the downstairs neighbors and determine the best course of action would be probably to smash her window and gain entry that way. Although they didn't ask, that was my vote too! The whole time this was going, Chizz was sitting on the floor talking to the woman, trying to keep her alert. She kept repeating that she had fallen, she couldn't move. Chizz was very soothing, trying to keep her calm. She did stop talking several times, we weren't sure if she had fallen asleep or worse. Finally, the police arrive about 10 minutes later. They assess the situation, climb through our window to the roof to see if there was a way to gain entry, go through the neighbors yard and see if they can get in that way. They decide the best thing is to break the door down. I am worried about this because we don't know how close she is to the door. If she isn't badly hurt at this point, a door falling on her might is most certainly going to aggravate the situation!! But they need to call in another police car, one that is equipped with the rammer (I am sure there is a technical police term for it but I don't know what that is). Several minutes later, another police car arrives and 2 officers are carrying in the rammer, which is basically a large, thick pole with handles on it. On the heels of these two policemen is a woman who turns out to be the neighbor's daughter. She has a key and the ambulance attendants are able to assist our neighbor. She recently had some new medication and it makes her more unsteady on her feet. Her son had spent the night but had left early that morning for work. So Mrs. H. probably had not been on the floor that long as it turns out but still all in all probably a scary situation for her. They checked her out medically and she was fine so it was not necessary to take her to the hospital. The daughter was very grateful that Chizz had heard her. Mrs. H. is actually 86 years old and apparently very stubborn and independent. She refuses to use a "stick" (cane in American) or have live in care. I have a feeling Mrs. H and her daughter are going to have some discussions about those issues this week. If the daughter had been 3 minutes later, she would have been cleaning up wood splinters all over her mother's entryway. Mrs. H. was not right by the door so if they had taken down the door, she wouldn't have been hurt but probably very surprised!

It was amazing that Chizz heard her, her voice was very faint. In this day and age, we all bustle about so quickly that sometimes we don't see or hear things around us. We all need to rely on the kindness of strangers at some point in our life. I am very proud of Chizz that he heard both of these women and took time to help them. We would all like to thing we would but lets face it there are quite a few people who wouldn't or couldn't be bothered. I am proud to be married to him. Now if I could just get him to remember which airport he is flying out of.

Why I Hate My Washer/Dryer

There are many things I love about our new flat. I love the ceiling molding, how bright the living room is in the morning, the built-in bookcases in the family room/den, the curved archways between the living room and the dining room, the view of the trees from the upstairs windows, the mantel in the living room, which I am fairly certain is original to the house. It is a cute flat with loads of charm.

That is not to say that they aren’t adjustments you make when you move into a flat from a house, mostly in space. We went from a five bedroom house to a three bedroom apartment. We don’t have a lot of closets, a garage (which isn’t that terrible since we don’t’ have a car) or a laundry room. I never realized how much I loved my laundry room with its big washer and dryer until I moved into our flat and met our washer/dryer. I say met because I think of it like a human being, a human being I don’t like very much. First of all, it is in the kitchen. It doesn’t even know its proper place – a laundry room. Second of all it is a combo washer dryer – meaning the load goes through the washing process and then stays in there for the drying. These units are very popular here. Of the 10-15 places we looked at before we came, ¾ of them had combo washer/dryers. IT TAKES FOREVER TO DO A SMALL LOAD OF LAUNDRY. I can put a load in there before I leave in the morning around 10:00 a.m., come back well after lunch and it will still be going 5 hours later. Another thing, it has the capacity of a large mixing bowl. I can only put in two bath towels and maybe, if I am feeling a little defiant, a hand towel and that is it. If I overstuff it, by let’s say putting in THREE bath towels, the load will never dry. Now in all fairness, I shouldn’t say never because I usually will end a load after about 7 hours so I haven’t really tested whether or not it will eventually dry by leaving an overstuffed load in until it is dry. I think I should do the environment a favor by stopping it after 7 or so hours. Because laundry takes so very long to finish, there is always laundry to do. We are backlogged in laundry and we don’t even do Chizz’s shirts, we send them out. (Hey Uncle S. – you need to look into going multi-national, there are dry cleaners on EVERY block here!) The washer/dryer is on constantly. For a while there I thought I might be able to catch up if I set the alarm and did a load during the middle of the night. But I figured out that at an average rate of 6 hours per load, I would really only be getting in one extra load a day. Since we are talking mini-loads, it is hardly worth losing sleep.

Kiki leaves for college in two years. She will probably be the only kid that goes TO college with dirty laundry. Maybe she can take some of Snake’s.

Coming Soon To a City Not Near You (Probably)

Well, Kiki left this morning to go to Germany. The school soccer teams have a tournament there. She is very excited, I think because she gets to miss a day of school. She will stay in a local family's home, most likely an American family from the international school there. It is a whirlwind trip, they play 2 games in 2 days. I am not sure how much touring around they will get to do but I am sure she will have a great time. So in the past 3 weeks she has been in 3 different countries, Italy, France and now Germany. Wow. Kiki - The World Tour Continues. Buy the T-Shirt!

Guess Who Lived in Our House??

English Heritage runs this program where they honor individuals who have made an important positive contribution to human welfare or happiness by placing a round, blue plaque on the building where they lived or worked. We have 2 plaques on our house. Only about 20 plaques are placed a year, although the committee receives thousands of nominations. There are quite a few criteria including being considered eminent by a majority of members of their own profession, deserving of national recognition, having resided in the locality (where the plaque will be erected) for a significant time period within their life and work, they must be either dead for 20 years or have passed the centenary of their birth, whichever is earlier (more on this later) and be well recognised (British spelling of course) by “the well-informed passer-by”.

Keeping that in mind, who are these guys?


I haven’t the foggiest! I had to look them up and I will share my information with you so when you pass by you can be well-informed.

William Strang (1859-1921) was a Scottish painter and engraver. This is where the English Heritage system breaks down for me. A candidate has to be considered eminent by a majority of members of their own profession. How many engravers could there have been at this time? He was born in Dumbarton Scotland (sound familiar Bay Area readers?) Apparently best known for his etchings, some well known men sat for portraits by Mr. Strang including Rudyard Kipling, Robert Louis Stevenson and Thomas Hardy. He is also well known for his illustrations of Sinbad the Sailor, Paradise Lost and Pilgrim’s Progress. He lived here in our house until he died.



The second blue plaque is something of a mystery to me. I can’t find out any information about the organization that honored Sir George Alexander Macfarren (1813-1887). It is not an official English Heritage plaque because it is not round but obviously was designed to closely resemble the official plaques so as to confuse the well-informed passerby. In almost every entry about him, he is referred to as a prolific composer, not great, not good, he just did a lot. He apparently is best known among other composers for his lectures and writings on music theory. Macfarren became blind in 1860 and continued his career lecturing. He was knighted in the late 1870s and died “suddenly”, again in our house!!! The interesting tidbit we found out is that Sir Macfarren and Snake share the same birthday, 180 years apart. Coincidence? Maybe. Weird, definitely.

Okay, so the other day I am putting out our rubbish (another English word!) in the bins (!) and a man comes over to me. He is carrying his London map so I am clued in that he is a tourist. He is reading the plaques on the wall and asks me about the men. I tell him what I know and he scoffs at me, “I have never heard of them”. Well, I pointed out to him that these men had died quite some time ago. He asks me what you have to do to get a plaque and I explain the criteria, as I understand them. “Well” he says with a tone “ I have a friend who lives on this street and he is very famous, and you would know him if I told you who he is and he doesn’t have a plaque”. Like I am supposed to defend the plaques on my house as if I had some hand in deciding that they should be there! But in a way I am feeling very defensive of my guys. Who is this man to put down my historic dead guys? What has he done?? So I asked him “Is your friend dead or at least 100 years old?” He shakes his head negatively. “No? Well then. That would be it then, wouldn’t it?” I turned on my heel and went back in my flat.

Maybe they are boring, unknown to most people, old dead guys BUT they are MY boring, unknown to most people, old dead guys!

Where Old TV Goes To Die

We finally got our cable hooked up this past week and we now have TV. Just in time to watch the baseball playoffs. We have not had any television in our house in just about 8 weeks. I thought I would hear more moaning, whining and complaining about it but Chizz has been relatively good about it. The kids apparently haven't missed it at all, now if the computer were down that would be another matter. We got a sports package from our cable provider, which gives us sports from the US. We will get the baseball playoffs, some college and pro football and what I am really excited about LPGA. (Huh? Why would anyone in his or her right mind think LPGA is a selling point for an international sports TV package? Rhetorical, not a discussion topic.)

We have about 400 channels. We get some channels from the US. Our friend Marky will be glad to know that we receive Fox News because that is a particular favorite of his. We seem to be one season behind in our all of our favorite shows, Lost, The Office, Desperate Housewives. There are some interesting new shows that are candidates to become favorites. One is Suburban Shootout. This show is about gangs of housewives that run a picturesque small town. A new police superintendent moves into town and the gang wants to force his wife into joining. So they trick her into unwittingly blowing up a store, the Wicker Barn. It is a black comedy, one I will have to record and watch when the kids aren't around. We will have to learn how to block certain channels from the kids because there are things on TV here that wouldn't see the light of day in the US. For example, a show called Badly Dubbed Porn. I kid you not, that is the name of the show. I haven't seen it (yet) but I understand it involves soft porn movies with the dialogue removed and British comics ad lib and dub the movies. It is on at 4:00 a.m. so I don't think there is a chance the kids will see it but I think we will block it anyway. (Sorry Chizz!)

So I sat down to watch television the other morning and I made a few discoveries. First, there is Judge Judy here. I repeat Judge Judy has traveled the pond!! As many of you know, I love Judge Judy and tivoed (a new verb) her all the time in California. The best thing about that is that these are some of her older shows and I haven't seen all of them. Yay! Another interesting discovery, England is apparently the place old television shows go to die. I have never seen such a wide collection of bad, bad, cancelled television shows. At any given time I can watch Becker, Touched by an Angel, Knight Rider, The Rickie Lake Show, Starsky & Hutch, Bay Watch, The Rockford Files, Hope and Faith, Stargate, Dharma and Greg, Star Trek Voyager. The other night there was a channel that had 4 hours of back-to-back Becker episodes. What is wrong with these people?? I didn't even know they had enough episodes of that show for four hours. It is very scary.

Oh! I have to go. The A Team is on! "Pity the Fool".

Ooh-La-La Paree!

We went to Paris for the weekend. (Boy I love saying that!!) Kiki & Snake had a few days off from school. I am not exactly sure why but I didn’t argue. Kiki is just back from her school trip to Italy, where she had a ball. She says now she is spoiled for Italian food because “I have had REAL Italian food so I know the difference”. Ok. She learned how to make pasta, where Prada, Gucci & Fendi are and had a famous chef make her (the group) dinner. She came back exhausted but happy. So she was barely back here 12 hours and we whisked her away to Paris.

We went on the Eurostar train and it was pretty nice. It takes a little under 3 hours to get to Paris, although it seems faster. We had told the kids of the last time Chizz and I had taken a train, which was from Austria to Paris, many, many years ago. It was about a 9-hour trip. We decided to eat on the train as to get the whole experience. The problem was we spoke neither French nor German and all the announcements on the train were in either French or German. So we would hear an announcement and go down to the food car and they were just closing up. Each time we trekked down there, the food car was not serving. We didn’t eat anything for over 9 hours and we were famished!! We later figured that the announcements said, in either German or French, something along the line of “The dining car is now open for ____ minutes or until the Americans make their way down here, which ever is first.” Of course, the kids did not want to make the same mistake. The announcements in our train were in French and English, although the English was pretty heavily accented and it was somewhat difficult to understand. So every time an announcement was made, we went to the bar car. We were not going to miss the opportunity to spend $4 on a coke and $2.50 for a bag of chips; we were not going to be denied!!

Heavily caffeinated and oil/salt ladened, we arrived in Paris. Our hotel was very close to the Eiffel tower. In fact you could see the Eiffel tower from our hotel room if you leaned way out over the balcony and someone held on to the back of your shirt. We walked around the Eiffel Tower area and met one of Chizz’s work colleagues/friends for dinner at a nice restaurant. Snake was very adventurous and tried escargot. He didn’t like them but I thought they were great.

We saw all of the highlights, Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Musee d’ Orsay, the Invalides, Arc d’Triumph, Champs d’ Elysees, Notre Dame. We did make one tactical error. Apparently teenagers don’t like to walk the entire length of the Seine at breakneck speed to get from one location to the next. Who knew? After a small mutiny, the size somewhat reminiscent of another French revolution, we regrouped and the rest of the weekend went without anyone losing their head or eating cake (not really true, we ate cake!!). We ate at a quaint little courtyard restaraunt, where Snake discovered he like veal, we walked up the many steps to the Sacre-Coeur. Kiki and Snake mastered the Metro Underground system in no time. We walked several different districts, the Latin Quarter, Montmarte where we watched some artists work. We saved some things to do next time (Versailles, shopping, some battlefields –guess who). Speaking of shopping, Kiki and I walked by the Louis Vuitton store and I am fairly sure I heard angels heralding. We walked by twice and there was a huge line both times. Someday.

We continued our vacation all the way through the train ride home. Once we found that bar car, it was hard to leave. You know what the cool thing is? When we came home, we came home to London. C’est la vie.

George Bush, McDonalds & Me

I spent some time wandering around an antiques mall the other day. I read about this mall in the weekend papers as somewhere where actress Sienna Miller found a very chic purse that she carried to a recent premiere or something. It mentioned it also carried an eclectic (read cheap!) selection of furniture and odds/ends. So I thought I would mosey on over and see if I could find a trunk or chest that we could use as a coffee table. There are several of these types of malls here in London. They are comprised really of all these little shops and stalls together, each one individually owned but all the shops are under one roof. A lot of them carry silver, china, collectibles, a mish mash of stuff. On a weekday, this place is pretty empty but I bet on a weekend it is packed. All the owner/operators of the stalls sit outside of their little spaces passing the time of day with each other. I wandered in and out of several stores. It wasn’t really what I was looking for but I enjoyed looking at all of the stuff. I wandered up to another floor and in the corner were three shop owners talking the news of the day. I heard a woman say very loudly in her English accent “they had another one yesterday”. Some general tsk-tsking going on. Then she says “All these school shootings over there. It is the third one this week. I tell you America is one dangerous place. I wouldn’t go there!” More noises of general agreement from her companions. Then she says “Three things America gives us – ‘orrible violence like these shootings, McDonalds and George Bush!”

Certainly she had no idea I was American because I hadn’t spoken a word, I was just browsing. But it reminded me of this interesting phenomenon that goes on here that I have heard of but haven’t yet experienced. Some of the other Americans I have met have told me of stories where someone will bait you with a political point usually on the war and you are expected to defend the policies of the United States because you are a citizen. Like everyone voted for George Bush or, to use my experience above as an example, we all own stock in McDonalds and personally profit from every Big Mac sold. Hey! Wait a minute we do own stock in McDonalds, or my kids do (thanks Mom & Dad!) but I think you get my point. You cease being a person when you live in a different country you become the country you are from or at least its envoy and you are personally responsible for every bad decision (because lets face it, no one gets credit for any of the good deeds) your country has made or participated in since the Revolutionary War. Surprisingly enough, they still aren’t over that one here! Chizz tells story of going to a favorite pub on a Sunday afternoon with the Sunday paper. He had just settled in, ordered his first drink, looking at the paper when a woman next to him leaned over and said something along the line “Your president has made Tony Blair his poodle”. Hmmm. Apparently she had heard his accent when he ordered his beer and felt she should engage him in a little political discourse. He said he tried to have an discussion with her but it was obvious she had been there since Saturday reading the papers and was just looking for a little bit of a fight. He argued with her a bit and then went back to his paper. Personally I can’t look at Tony Blair the same way anymore.

I don’t think Kiki & Snake have encountered this yet because most of the kids they go to school with are American but I do think I need to prepare them with some kind of response should someone accost them along these lines. I think I am going to adopt something one of their swim coaches told them last year before a big swim meet. Our swim team is fairly large and we do seem to win a good portion of the events. This has caused some hard feelings among the other teams in our conference and sometimes the other swimmers will say mean things to our team members. Coach E has taught them whenever someone says something mean to them they are supposed to say, “I am sorry you feel that way. I am just here to swim fast. Good luck in your race.” And then they are supposed to move on. Now I have to modify that a bit because I think the British would be confused by the declaration that we are just here to swim fast. So I think we will say, “I am sorry you feel that way. We are just here to fulfill a contractual agreement. Good luck with your dental work.” Maybe I should work on that a bit. Anyway, go eat some Big Macs - my kids want to go to an Ivy League school!!

Kiki Has Left the Building . .er - Country

Kiki left this morning at 4:30 AM to go on her school trip to Italy. The whole high school goes somewhere this week. There were about 25 trips to chose from and you got to rate your top 8. Then they did a lottery, Kiki got her first choice. There were trips to Ireland, France, Poland, Germany, Spain, Scotland and all sorts of activities, golf, writing, water sports, scuba diving. If you happened to be watching the Abbey Road webcam at about 4:05 a.m you would have seen Kiki & I walking to school. I would have been the one lugging the suitcase with the squeaky wheel. "It's so embarrassing", even at 4:00 a.m. I think she was a little bummed that she had to leave on her birthday but there are worse places to spend your birthday. One of the places she is going to visit is a villa where they make olive oil and wine. The teacher said all the kids will bring back wine and olive oil if you want. We want. Lets hope the luggage handlers don't abscond with it or break it. You gotta love a continent where a 15 year old can carry wine in her luggage and no one bats an eye!!


HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIKI!!!!!!!!!!

Apparently We Do Speak 2 Different Languages

It was raining here yesterday. No surprise, everyone knows it rains quite a bit here in England. After the kids finished their homework, we decided to go see a movie. I wanted to see The Queen but it wasn't playing at the times we needed it to, so we went and saw Little Miss Sunshine. When Snake was looking up the times, he says "It says 'ST' next to the title, what does that mean?" I didn't know but off we went to the movies. Now you may be asking yourself, isn't Little Miss Sunshine rated R. Why yes, yes it is. But we have already established I am a bad parent (see It Doesn't Suck to Be Us post). In the States, a parent can buy kids R rated movie tickets and really no one blinks an eye. Don't ask how I know that!! (See It Doesn't Suck to Be Us post, I am a bad parent!!) Here the move is rated 15 which means no one under 15 should be able to see this movie. I was prepared that there would be few children in the movie but what I wasn't prepared for was the third degree given by the ticket agent. When I asked to buy one adult and 2 student tickets, he asked the kids ages and I told him 13 & 14 thinking of course he was questioning the ages for the student discount. He says the kids can't go into the movie. "Not even with a parent?" I inquired. "Only if you are willing to take full responsibility for whatever might happen." Like what? "Well" he says "they might get scared and cry." Doubtful. "or if they suffer an injury". By watching a movie? Not likely. "Other patrons could be uncomfortable". I am willing to take that risk. Nothing he could say could persuade me. Apparently he doesn't know how really bad a parent I am. Finally he allowed me to purchase the over priced tickets and we were able to go into the theater.

The movie was cute, enjoyable, not Academy Award material. I don't know why it was rated R or 15. There was no nudity that I could remember, a bit of swearing but I am sure they heard worse words when Chizz was putting together Kiki's dresser. There were discussions about suicide and drugs, both topics we don't shy away from in our house. So I am not sure why this movie rated an R rating. Actually, it was kind of an uplifting film. How the strangest of families come together when necessary. Not a message we necessarily should hide from kids. One of the interesting things about the movie was that it was subtitled in English!! Now I get the ST! Sub-Titles! I am not quite sure why this was subtitled. Do English audiences need subtitling for American movies? It could be because we talk too fast, different slang, our thick accents. Now in all fairness, I know when we rented Millions, the English movie about the kids who found money that fell off a train we used the subtitle feature in the movie for those same reasons. It made the movie more enjoyable. However, I don't think the theater showed Millions with subtitles when it was out in the theater. Curious.

Oh, for those of you wondering -- Kiki and Snake did not get scared, cry, suffer any kind of movie-related injury or offend any the other 15 patrons with their presence. Sigh of relief!