It was bad enough to wake up with this cycling through my brain

but then mid-shower, this took over--


Sometimes life is really, really unfair.

This came under the heading 'Best Commercial Ever'

and I was like, Yeah, whatever. But I was bored, so I clicked on it, and now I think that heading is absolutely accurate.

Our vacuum cleaner looks like this

I thought I'd share.

I thought I'd also share that we walked along the river last night through the Wolfson fields over to the University Parks. It was gorgeous, of course. We encountered cows, of course. And they were literally the most beautiful cows I've ever seen. They were Holsteins (for all you non-farmers, those are the black and white milking cows), but they were young and small(er) and sooooooo clean. The paths on the way were sometimes treacherous, but we made it without falling down (unlike the older couple behind us--they eventually became our travel partners) even though there was much balance beaming on tiny pieces of wood stuck into the mud to act as bridges. Evie was amazing, and I think there may be a career as a gymnast in her future. A terrified gymnast who does not enjoy balancing even though she can do it. Hey--gymnasts over crocodile pits--now THAT would be a sport to watch.

The University Parks are beautiful, but if you're a kid, they can get kind of boring since there aren't any playgrounds. The first time we went, the girls had a great time climbing this really huge tree. Then we saw on the prohibitions sign that tree climbing was not allowed. Poo. But during this trip we found the pond, and Evie and Moira had fun feeding the ducks and coots with bread loaned from complete (but very nice) strangers.

Here's a boring video of it:


Sam, Evie found 10 pence by a bench in the park, but she refuses to surrender it to the Found Fund. We told her she'd be hearing from you about it.

And, Lauren, we thought of you when we found a mint-esq plant by the water and we didn't know it's name. Surely Lauren would know!! But we looked it up and it was Water Mint. Now we're contemplating making Water Mint and Carrot soup. The only issue is that it's a plant in a public park, which means countless dogs could have peed on that sucker. Maybe we'll look in less accessible places along the river.

Current favorite on the piano rotation:
Neeeeeeeeeear, faaaaaaaar, wheeeeerEEEEEEVER you aaaaaare . . .!

This image has been in my head a lot lately--Ugh.

In other news: Moira is officially abandoning her neglected Blogspirit blog, and will be starting one up right here on Blogger without any annoying private password business. I'll put a link up when the deed is done.

Apparently, having a penis means the world is your toilet

I'll set the scene:
We're at the park. A 7 year old comes running over to his mom yelling, "Mum! I have to wee!" She answers with, "Well, run over to the bushes there. Hurry!" As if taking a piss in public is all in good fun. You know, if my girls suddenly said they had to go, I would then take them to some sort of civilized toilet facilities--even if it meant they were in a great deal of discomfort while they waited. But if you can just pop your willy through the slats in the fence and water the bushes, it's aaaaaaall okay. I am sure, I am ABSOLUTELY SURE, that it is this sense of penile entitlement that has led to most of history's disasters.

And Mrs. Lintott agrees with me.

In the accent war

. . . the intonation is the first to go.

I can't remember if I mentioned here that I'd met the mother Piano Nazi. If I did, forgive me, because I'm too lazy to look back at my posts to check. I write posts and send e-mails and I'm really having a difficult time keeping track of what I've written to whom. But I did indeed meet her, and the piano is indeed real. I was hoping it was a keyboard and I could ask them to lower the volume. No such luck. She asked if it bothered us and I lied through my teeth. How can you gripe about someone's kid practicing? Ben and I are both starting to tune it out. (Although right now it's pretty annoying. With all the practicing they do, you would think that this particular piece wouldn't be so botched by now.) Anyway, she's incredibly nice and has already given us a hairdryer, the most kick-ass drying rack for clothes ever (like this but bigger), and two bikes for the girls. Her husband even took the time to put training wheels on Evie's bike. She told us when other families return to Korea, they often give them appliances and various things they can't take with them. She insists that we should ask her for anything before we buy it, which horrifies my midwestern unobtrusiveness. Perhaps I will work up the courage, because we do need just about everything. What I would like most in the world would be some hangers. It would be sooooo cool to hang things in the closet instead of piling them on the floor. Susie the Younger clued us in as to where to buy such things, and as soon as that check is in, I am going on a mad spending spree for luxury items like . . . Q-tips.

Grocery and laundry money is being more than taken care of by the Lalls. I am now officially Rani's assistant in the afternoon when I'm through with Jay, so I don't need that second job, and I am THRILLED. Although today I managed to really frack things up and lost a document we had worked on for at least an hour. Actually, I saved the damn thing, but somehow by renaming it, I made it unusable. Not a good day. But I begged to be allowed to bring the info. home and redo the document. All is well now. And besides, that gave me the time to make it all purty like with borders, etc. Today I also got the scoop on the family situation and some juicy gossip. It's always fun to be included in gossip. Basically, Maya's mother-in-law is a Beatrice. I also got to sit around and drink coffee and read the paper while I waited for Rani to get back from the lawyers. I was so excited to see an article about the wave energy converter off Portugal's shores.Wave energy--duh. Why are we only now implementing this? Couldn't we all get little energy converters put in our shoes? Then we could make our own batteries. Or not.

This post will be less ambitious

And I will not use numbers because you never know when they'll be labeled invalid and that just causes way too much emotional trauma.

Well, dear readers, for a limited, LIMITED time only I will have two short videos of Jay on YouTube. They're not that thrilling, but they do demonstrate just a little of his cuteness. I'm only going to leave them up for a day or two because I didn't ask permission to broadcast their little boy to the masses. So if you don't check my blog in time, well, sucks to be you.

These two are at our flat when Jay and I dropped by to feed the ducks in the pond and have a snack.





I am now Rani's personal assistant--woo-hoo! When I finish with Jay, Rani scoops me up to mine my numerous skill sets. Yes, folks, I type while she dictates, I make files, I e-mail, and I type in all sorts of personal banking information to transfer funds. (Man, it's a good thing I'm a decent person devoid of a photographic memory--otherwise she'd be broke right now. Well, one of her accounts would be broke.) All of these things she seems quite capable of doing on her own, but she insists she can't manage at all. That's cool with me. I don't know if this will be a permanent thing or if this is just a busy season for computer work--we shall see. But I have stopped looking for a second job now because the hours are really filling out at the Lall household. And I just love working for them. Maybe a little too much since today I lost track of time and was late picking the girls up from school. I would have been REALLY late if Rani hadn't offered to drive me there. She drives as if laws don't apply to her, which is funny and yet terrifying. Today she went through a red light (it was on the bridge by the school and nobody was coming) and explained her way of operating. "When I was younger and prettier I could just smile and get away with anything. But now that I'm older, I just look like a loony and they don't bother with me because of that. Dotty old lady. So I guess I've had it pretty good both ways." Needless to say, I love this lady a little more every time she opens her mouth. And she's not kidding about being a looker. They have a bittersweet photo montage in their office of all these old photos of Rani's husband Sanjaya. (He passed away a few years ago.) And in the center is a black and white shot from their wedding ceremony. I think she's still beautiful, but she definitely doesn't. Or maybe she doth protest too much. For a little more info. on her husband you can go here. Maya had mentioned he was an economist, and now I'm really embarrassed that I nodded with that Oh, How Interesting But Not Really nod of non-recognition. He wasn't an economist--he was like one of THE economists.

Now that I've said WAY too much about the people I work for, I will quit this post. See--no ambition.

This post will be too ambitious

and I'll probably give up mid-way. Evie's working on an overwhelming (because we forgot her book at school over the weekend, and I forgot about her spelling test) amount of homework right now, and I may need to stop my blogging short for that reason as well. But let's see how far we get, shall we?

1. See Sam's post. A much more articulate version of what I'd end up writing anyway. He did forget to mention that there was a brief taxi ride for the gimpier members of our party, along with an annoyed taxi driver who didn't find our inability to decide who was riding very amusing at all. Whatever--you're getting paid aren't you? Sam also forgot to mention that the picture of all of us under the Hertford Bridge is actually a picture of all of us running away from Susie who wanted a posed picture under the Hertford Bridge. (or Bridge of Sighs--take your pick.) There was also a delicious carrot cake ala Susie the Younger and later some Samphire eaten with butter. Susie the Younger was awesome and we can't wait to visit with her again, and Classic Susie was wonderful as always. (It's easy for you, Sam, you get to call one of them 'Mom' and avoid all the confusion.)

2. Ramdom Baby Mama quote--"My avatar is dressed like a whore." (That movie really wasn't very good, but I still thoroughly enjoyed it.)

3. I am Rani Lall's bitch. But I am being well compensated for it. Today I got my first paycheck and it was almost double what I was expecting. So either Maya miscounted when she dug into her purse or I got a bonus for good behaviour or I'm just going to be welllllll paid. Whatever the reason, I am diggin' it. Groceries here I come. Jay continues to be a sweetheart. Sadly I have realized that he has about 4 times my attention span. Seriously--I catch myself trying to distract him when he's playing with something for more than 2 minutes. I continue to have awkward moments with family members in the house. Like today when we got back from playing outside and Jay suddenly wanted nothing more to do with me. He just wanted his uncle to hold him. I hadn't yet been dismissed, so I was left to follow them around the garden in order to justify my continued presence in the house. Aaaaaawkward. But last Thursday was tons of fun. Maya was at work in London and I was going to watch Jay so Rani (who is the grandmother and a landlord--did you know you could be both?) could get all her work done. I thought I'd just be watching Jay at the house, but Rani said it was time to get in the car and shoved a can of paint into my hands. Hey, I guess I'm carrying the paint. So we drove all over town and I sat in the back with Jay and enjoyed the terrifying experience of driving on the wrong side of the road. She usually held Jay while I held her purse or unlocked the car or helped carry furniture boxes or ran into a Chinese grocery store with her wallet to buy bottled water. Later I gave Jay a bath and took his temperature (got to look like an idiot because I had no idea what was a normal reading in celcius) and took all the laundry out to dry on the patio. The laundry was a bit much, and as I handled their underwear I found myself thinking, This was NOT in my job description. I'm sure if I had any self-esteem, I would hate all of this, but since I don't, it's all very interesting in that sociological experiment kind of way. Like I'm playing a part. And Rani and Maya are so incredibly nice that it doesn't feel oppressive at all. Rani also shares expensive sweets with me and swears disarmingly. How can you not love a regal Panjabi woman who says about her tennant, "He makes everything so legalistic--like I'm going to get the fucker. I barely have time to brush my teeth, why would I come after him for something?"

4. I have run out of steam. I'll post pictures and tell more tales tomorrow.

The cold is lessening

Although I continue to almost kill myself by coughing while chewing food. Whilst chewing food.

My job! Is a wee little job, but it's work. I'm watching a little boy named Jay in the mornings. (Is that a misplaced something-or-other? He is named Jay at other times throughout the day--I just only watch him in the mornings.) He's 22 months old and so unbelievably sweet and well behaved. It's a little odd because there are always family members around in the house while I'm there. Maya is the mother and she lives in the house with her younger college aged brother and sister and her mom. Her husband works in London during the week--I don't know if he comes home on weekends or what. She works at The Economist 2 days a week. So I'm just there to let her shower or read a book or go to the gym. Or let her mom do the same. It's an odd combination of feeling like one of the family and feeling like 'the help.' I hope, as time goes by, it will be more of the former than the latter. They're all very nice though, and their house is kick-ass. They've got this yard in the back with a patio and topiary bushes and lion statues and trellises and perfect grass--what the heck. And Maya really reminds me of Jaime Murray (notice the proper spelling of the name) from Hustle and Dexter. And I have this odd feeling like we're both being over-the-top nice to each other while secretly hiding our less than nice but perfectly acceptable sides. Well, I know I am. Who could be that Mary Poppins-y all the time? But Jay is so cute that I'm in a constant state of 'awwww' anyway, so I guess it's not too far off from my true self-expression.

I'm continuing to look for other nanny-esq jobs to fill out the remaining hours of my day. There haven't been any ads for full time at all. And I need something that won't bleed over into after school time just in case Ben won't be available to take care of the girls. It's an odd/slightly scary feeling not to have that safety net of family and friends. In Columbus I always knew I could count on Anita right next door to take care of the kids in an emergency. So I'm nannying even if it's going to be less money--just for the security of flexibility.

Tea at Tanglewest's--very fun. Her mom, Rebecca, is awesome as expected, but also really laid back and funny--so the intimidation was lessened. She's an author . . . of novels. I'm weird and couldn't bring myself to ask for the titles of her books so I could read them. It felt intrusive somehow. (We had flapjacks, which obviously were not what I was expecting to see on my plate.) Their flat is really cool and even though I hate the word bohemian, it does apply here. The girls had a great time playing with Tanglewest. Her brother Raymond mostly ignored them and played on the computer--making a 'brilliant monkey army.' She and her children are all too articulate for words, and I'm painfully aware of my most limited vocabulary and penchant for using 'like' and 'so' . . . like way too often. Other random information: they had a stick insect for a pet that had died that day. We had a deep conversation on the way to their house about what kind of religious afterlife a stick insect would have. We settled on Buddhist reincarnation. But Raymond thought that a stick insect could have next life mobility, while Rebecca and I thought that they probably just come back as stick insects again. Because really--what could a stick insect do to warrant moving up to, say, a lady bug? I think the term 'goody-goody stick insect' was used at one point. Anyway, the thing died. But then Monday I was informed that it had resurrected and laid a bunch of eggs. So I guess it was a Christian bug. I like the fact that they didn't throw it away when they thought it was dead. Just kind of left it there. That's something I can relate to.

Wow, way too much meaningless talk of bugs.

I had such a great time at Rebecca's that it naturally sent me into an existential depression. I seriously got depressed because I'm so passive about friendship and I never make friends unless they practically throw themselves on me. I'm incapable of being proactive and inviting even if I really want to be. So I went into a funk because she'd probably never invite us over for tea again because it's my turn to make the next friendship move and I wouldn't be able to do it and I would never hang out with her again and never make any friends ever. EVER!

I'm getting over this . . . and planning on inviting her over to tea . . . soon.

I met another mother of one of the kids in Evie's class. She goes to St. Andrews church (on our street) and she invited us to come and told us all about it. This conversation stemmed from Ben's Bible Interpretation studies. Unfortunately, St. Andrews is waaaaay too conservative for us right now . . . and it does the creepy Alpha course. We're more looking for the Church of the Be Nice. Ben's checking out the Quaker meeting this week.

This is a long blabbery post. Sorry, but I'm not stopping.

Pet peeves:
1. Frickin' Kamikaze bike riders that don't believe traffic laws apply to them. It's fun almost getting run over--reeeeeally fun. I swear to God, if one of them ever hits one of my kids, I will beat them to death with their own bicycle.
2. Slow walkers on narrow sidewalks.
3. Oblivious parents at school who stand in narrow areas and just Blah, blah, blah to each other while tons of people back up in the mud room because they won't move their asses a foot and a half to the side. (Sorry, 45.7 centimeters to the side.)
4. People who try to get around the slow people when there is no getting around them and end up being just as rude and practically tripping people.
5. Grumpy Americans that complain too much about inconsequential things. GAWD, get a life why don't you.

Wait, Wait! It gets better!

Blow up balloons while receiving verbal abuse. £15


And in the British knicker-news:
At the playground today there was a five year old girl in her underwear. Climbing and playing like any kid, just . . . mostly naked.

So much to post about, so little energy

I'm currently getting my butt kicked by the cold Moira gave me. Evie sailed through with barely a day of sniffles and Ben hasn't shown any symptoms at all. I can't believe this will last long the way I've been hacking and sneezing all over the place. This keyboard alone must be a den of contagion.

Anyway, I would post about getting a (small) job or our tea adventures, but just staying upright is taking all my strength and concentration. So I will just leave you with this tiny tidbit about the Daily Info. Everyday (several times a day) I check for job listings. Everyday I'm amused by something someone puts up there. Sometimes it's just a listing for a Polish carpenter that gives me a smile. He's gotta be Polish or it just won't do. Sometimes it's the wording--"Aupair needed for lovely family." or "Live in aupair needed for busy family" and I want to fill in ". . . with no time for kids." But yesterday took the cake. At first I thought my favorite for the day was going to be the hot air balloonist looking for a volunteer ground crew. But then there was the gardener needed with a "flexible attitude." What does that mean? "Okay, we need you to come to work today really angry, but tomorrow you need to be pretty easy going. Tuesday we want you pensive." But then, BUT THEN this was submitted--
"Chase me in scarycostume for 30 mins--£15.00"
I'm not kidding.

Okay, gonna rest now.

Anne, I agree with you. She is sooooo scary.

And now in comparison, Hillary Clinton seems like such a sympathetic character. I would be so pissed off if I was her. She worked so hard and here comes Sarah Palin just coastin' on in. Grrrrr. And Sarah Palin is terrifying, I mean, really terrifying. Like George Bush on steroids...with lipstick.

Snarf--I don't know why I'm putting this up

Soooooo

I set up a flickr account and I put a badge over on the side. I've been lusting over Brad's badge for so long and I actually thought--No, Brad has one of those, that's totally copying. What? Am I in high school or something?

Lauren, I am always dissatisfied with my pictures. Probably because I'm always looking at Ben K's and my camera just cannot compare. Then there are the recent issues with exposure or whatever it is in digital. I dunno. But thank you for your compliment.

We had our first NHS experience yesterday after Moira called from school with some serious ear pain. She's slogging through her first English cold, and in the middle of the night woke up with what seemed like the beginnings of an ear infection. She's never had one before though, so I was inclined to wait and see what happened before freaking out. By morning she said the ear was just annoying, and I packed her off to school. Then she called before lunch crying on the phone. That was horrible. I was worried about what to do as far as a doctor's visit, etc. but, in my narcissistic bubble, I was also worried that the staff at school would think I was one of those mothers that sends their kid to school sick. We had so many of those when I worked at the daycare--they would dose their kid up on tylenol and cold meds. so they wouldn't look sick when they arrived and then halfway through the day everything would fall apart and the kid would be feverish and miserable. Then we'd have to call them at work and they'd say they'd be there as soon as possible, but really get there after work was through. Poor parenting behaviour (HA! I can now spell that word the way I always spelled it before correcting it to American spelling! Freedom!) and I didn't want to be associated with those mothers.

Oops. Gotta wake Moira up for school. Long story (boy I make 'em long) short--filled out the (brief) NHS paperwork, had an appointment by the evening, saw the doc for free, everything's cool. Moira's feeling a lot better (but we have a perscription to fill if she gets worse) and I love socialized medicine. Hurrah!!

Odds n' ends

Soooo, let's get to that school anecdote I skipped. On the same day that Evie was calling her friend 'Bitches,' there was . . . an incident.

Let me preface this by saying that a lot of changing goes on at this school--shoes, clothes, etc. Kids wear one pair of shoes outside (walking to school, recess, gym) and then change into a different pair for inside the school. This seems like a big pain in the butt hassle, but I guess if your shoes were wet . . . I dunno, am I the only one that thinks these kids should just suck it up and deal with it? For some reason on this issue I am really culturally intolerant. Kids also change into sports clothes or even just crummier jeans, etc. for gym.

In Evie's class everybody just changed right there in the classroom. We're talking out of their underwear and everything. What the heck?!? What do you think is going to happen to you outside? Is this not what outerwear is for? Anyway, Evie came home and recounted this mass display of nudity, and we were in total shock. Then she turned to Moira and said in a thoroughly scandalized voice, "And, Moira, there was a boy who was changing and by his bottom was something dangly." I'm sure she thought it was a birth defect or something.

Monday I'm meeting with a woman who needs childcare. She seems nice enough on the phone, and the job is very flexible, but it's pretty short on the hours. At most it sounds like 15 a week. I really need something where I can drop off and pick up the girls at school since we really can't count on Ben being available. And this woman is just around the corner, which is really nice. I don't know what to do. I could possibly fit in other kids if they were similarly flexible--after school care or something. We'll see.

Piiiiiiiiiano Naaaaaaaaaazi.

Friday the kids and I are going over to Moira's friend's house for tea. I would tell you her name, but it is so distinctive that when I googled it to find out its origin, I only found mentions of her and her family or Texas real estate sites. I don't want to mention it here because if her mom ever did a google search, she might find my blog and get the right impression of me. (It's Tangle + the direction on the compass that starts with W. Sam, you get a prize because it is indeed Welsh in origin.) Her mom is really cool--intelligent, Oxford educated, vegetarian, self-described slacker mom. So obviously I am intimidated by her greatness, but I shall endeavor to make friends.

I had a whole collection of insights, and now I can't remember any of them.

Sam we ate your chinese broccoli and it was yum. We stir-fried it with garlic and salt and then had another batch curried with various other veggies. Very nice. I know you were disappointed that it was a vegetable you'd actually eaten, but it was new to us.

If Carla Gugino and Tina Fey had a baby, it would be Sarah Palin.
I heard someone today describe her as a VPILF. But having nice legs will not make blowing up the world okay, Sarah.

Today it was sunny not once, but several times. Ben and I went out briefly this afternoon to sit in the gardens and enjoy the sun and warmth. Lovely.

Oh My God! I need a stereo!

With REALLY big speakers.

The Piano Nazis are at it again. They've been playing for hours and hours and hours today. And what's worse is that they've started to learn new pieces and they suck right now. Lots of wrong notes and endless repetition. Would it be wrong to go next door and beg for mercy--Please! Consider the sanity of others!

We're sitting around wasting time today. But yesterday was loads of fun. Sam came by around noon to take us out to the pub . . . over and over again. We walked through gorgeous meadows and paths hemmed in by hundreds of blackberry bushes (we are SO going berry picking tomorrow), past cows and horses, through patches of mud, through poo landmines all the way to The Trout Inn. (Evie with blackberry and toadstool--she didn't eat either.)

The kids were hungry and ready to sit down to rest their wet, muddy feet. But The Trout was no longer the pub it once was (actually not really a pub at all now) and we shook the dust off our sandals and headed out. Then we headed back in because the back gate was closed, so our exit wasn't quite as dramatic as it could have been. We then decided to try for The Perch. The walk there was beautiful as well, complete with nunnery ruins. (I like that word 'nunnery'.)(More cows!)

The path to the pub was closed due to some unsafe building and we had to take the long way around. By this time the kids (despite Evie's shoulder riding) were really, REALLY in need of some food and rest. But when we finally arrived we discovered that The Perch had burned down. (The Perch was the unsafe building.) At this point Moira and Evie both burst into tears. It was simultaneously one of the funniest and saddest things I've ever seen. So we pressed on and finally reached The Victoria. It was a pub and it was in front of us and it had nice people willing to keep the kitchens open for us--it qualified as heaven. We broke all the rules and let the girls take off their shoes as long as they hid their naked feet from the pub's employees.

(The remains of our very first pub experience. I'm sure it would have made for a better picture if there'd been food on the plates. But we were too busy wolfing it down to think about photography.)

So we can now say we've had a pint of bitter at the pub. I feel so complete. (I felt even more complete after the second pint.) After waiting out some rain we left in search of pudding. But pudding was postponed in lieu of lots and lots of chocolate. We met up with Sam's friend, Tracey, who has now met (almost?) every member of the family--she is truly an accomplished woman. After a very enjoyable chat, Sam and Tracey left to go grab dinner and we sat around and ate more chocolate. (The ice cream was good too, Sam. But we waited until today. One must have a little self-control.)

Unfortunately, I realized I'd left my ring at the Victoria and we had to pick up our big fat selves and go get it. But it started to pour and Evie's whining reached a crisis point, so Ben continued on by himself with only his bad hip to keep him company and the girls and I went back home . . . and ate more chocolate.

Thank you, Sam, for a wonderful day out. Gosh, I love this city.

Okay, I'm going to stop this novel now and go make my family some food.

Two things

Passed the time in the laundry mat talking to a nice Ukrainian man named Alexander who was not so premium with the English. One of the things I did understand was that he has a sister who lives in Detroit and teaches belly dancing. She says he should move there too, but he might have to sell pizza instead of being an engineer. He wasn't too keen on this.

(Speaking of Ukrainians named Alex with not so premium English.)


Moira and Evie's friend Nae Young is the Piano Nazi. Actually, she and her brother both play. They're really good. I guess they're aiming for music scholarships.

The first day of school and lots and lots of pictures

I'll skip to the punchline--they both had a great day.

Now to the details. Dropping them off was pure chaos. We're not used to a school where every child has at least one parent dropping them off. Crowded! But the school was really great about helping us find our way and a woman from the office took us to the kids' rooms. There was a little confusion when we dropped Evie off and she was put in the wrong classroom. We were in the process of saying goodbye when our guide realized it and we headed to the classroom next door. (The school is divided into age groups by colors. Evie is in Pink 3 and Moira is Lilac 2. What ever happened to primary colors? I guess there was a blue somewhere too.) But Evie's real room was a lot better than the first. She was very quiet and then started to get tears in her eyes. She hugged Ben like she'd never let go and that made him tear up too. I held it together until I got outside later, but I had to seriously fight the sniffles. It was awful leaving her so miserable and alone. Moira was a lot easier and joined her class with no problems. She had several very enthusiastic girls at her table that were assigned with the task of acquainting her with the school. Evie had two girls helping her too--one of them became her best friend (so far). Her name was Beatrice. I found out later during the post-school debrief that Evie had misheard her and been calling her 'Bitches' all day. Beatrice hadn't corrected her, but I still thought it wise to do so myself.

So we were both very relieved to pick them up and hear Evie say she'd had fun. Moira said the day fell short of awesome because there wasn't enough time to talk to people, but 'great' summed it up pretty well. Shwew!

While they were at school Ben and I walked to the city center (my first time) and I had to keep reminding myself that this was really happening. Dude, I'm in Oxford! We went through the covered market where I chickened out in getting a job application at a coffee shop. It specified that working on Saturdays was required. I don't know if that meant every Saturday, but I'd still like to avoid that. With the girls in school, Saturdays are going to be really precious. I'd like to try for the nanny thing first, and tomorrow I'm grabbing a paper to go through the want ads. But I'll probably find out that I'm being way too picky and I should have tried for the coffee job and I'll hate myself every Saturday I work scrubbing toilets.

Anyway, here are the pictures--Cape Hatteras, a few shots in NY and then Wolfson.

My camera really wasn't happy with the beach. It was fogged up a lot and several times was sprayed with watery sand. Probably not good for the lens and definitely not good for pictures. Oh well.

This picture just makes me laugh.

Ben with kite.

The girls were awake and chatty until we reached New York traffic and then suddenly they just dropped over where they were. That's Evie's head under the grey wrap.

I was bummed I missed the one that said "Fuhgeddaboudit." I was shocked by its brilliance and therefore slow to react.

They were a wee bit tired after the trip.

View from the girls' bedroom window.

Close-up of a few of the punts.

The view from our bedroom window is, uh, not so nice. That's the nursery play area underneath that netting. They have a bunny the size of a Scottish terrier that hops around down there.This is the little bridge that gets you from the the buildings and gardens across the Cherwell to the fields.

Random daisy.

Fence hopping is allowed . . . really.

After coming back from the fields, the girls sat down to admire Wolfson's perfect grass.

This is something old and, if I could read Latin, I'd tell you all about it.

In retrospect, I'm sure the girls shouldn't have been climbing on it. Whatever.

I don't know why I included this because it really doesn't show how pretty this area of the gardens is. I'll have some better pics soon if I can get out when it's not raining. Yeah, good luck.

I have a few more photos but I am so completely exhausted from putting all these up. Oh, and a school anecdote that you won't want to miss. So tune in next time.

Epic post

We've got the internet up (not having that connection to everyone was extremely isolating), we have a cell phone (Ben's setting it up now, so no number as of this minute), we actually have a clock, and we have power to our appliances Two different idiot salespeople at two different Radio Shacks sold us adapters for Continental Europe instead of the U.K. We were running around like mad with last minute errands and didn't check them since the salespeople were so confident. That meant that once our computers and cell phone ran out of power (quickly) we didn't even have a way to tell what time it was. For a while we were in a total blackout. It was really a depressing way to start things out. So we had to go out and blindly explore to even find stores to buy this stuff. Apparently phone books do not exist in Britain. But today is feeling a lot better.

The flight here was great for everyone but me. I got this really crappy meal and watched in envy as Moira and Ben ate the half-decent Indian food. Somehow by ordering the lacto vegetarian meal, I got a plate of overcooked broccoli, carrot cubes and peas--no salt, seasoning, nothin'. But if you ordered the pure vegetarian meal (as in vegan) you got a nice little Indian black bean concoction with some rice, etc. and yogurt and a dairy based dessert. Huh? There were a few other things that only happened to me, so everyone else--great trip. Me--pretty good once I stopped whining. I was pleasantly surprised by how on time and fully functional/accommodating Air India was. I'd recommend it. (But stay away from the coffee--Ben ordered it and forgot how bad Indian coffee is. I had to laugh as I sipped my tea.)

Clive our driver arrived in a suit and was an entertaining mile a minute talker when you got him started. Not that I heard most of it in the back seat as I went in and out of consciousness. My head was jerking around like a bobblehead doll on crack. Total whiplash after that trip. But thankfully getting up early to drive from N.C. to JFK and then staying up all night on the plane eliminated jet lag altogether. When we got to Oxford we took a short nap and then pushed ourselves to stay active for the rest of the day.

The girls (as expected) have been such troopers. They loved watching the videos on their seat screens and controlling everything themselves. They loved it so much that they didn't get any sleep at all. Evie finally fell asleep as we were taxiing along the tarmac. Then she was absolutely out and I was trying to carry her dead weight through the airport along with two carry-ons. And those carry-ons hurt like hell due to the ridiculous sunburn I got at the beach. (Now Moira and I have shoulders that are peeling like lizards. How this happened to the ultimate sun-fearing paranoid mother, I will not go into. The shame.) Heathrow was incredibly non-intimidating. We had some coffee and juice and enjoyed a crushed pop tart and crackers for breakfast--mmmmmm. (This account isn't following any sort of coherent time-line. I don't care.)

So, um, yeah. Troopers. Even on that first day with no sleep we were dragging them around the grounds at Wolfson and making them walk into Summertown to get groceries. But they survived. Setting up their room was very exciting for them. Evie--"I LOVE moving!" You don't know how much better that made me feel about the whole thing. Moira's totally excited about school starting tomorrow. Evie isn't so thrilled. I hope she does well. Ugh, I don't want to talk about that.

The grounds and gardens at Wolfson are gorgeous. The apartment is like living in a hotel. Concrete floors with thin carpeting, hotel furniture, hotel curtains. The kitchen has the original 1950/60's counters and cabinets--avocado and beat to shit. The floors in the kitchen and bathroom are gray and certified ugly--some nice stains that won't go away too. But the shower is clean and fabulous with a new fancy shmancy shower head thing and super long tub that you can stretch out in. And the fridge has to be the biggest one ever made in the U.K. The stove is new and has a built in broiler thing that's basically a toaster oven. Are they all like that here? Needless to say--I loves me my cooker. The view out the girls window is beautiful. Our window is . . . less so. Does trashy cover it? You can decide. The beds are horrible. Used mattresses and sheets--even mattress cover. Gross. Paying what we're paying, I expected at least new sheets. Honestly, I expected new mattresses like OSU gives students. Our mattress is a torture chamber. It's like sleeping on chicken wire. Seriously, if I don't pile blankets underneath me, my knees hurt from the springs. And they didn't even give us a full comforter--just two twins. What? So we've sent in our complaints on all this and we expect very little to be done. As soon as possible we'll be getting new bedding. OBVIOUSLY.

Our kitchen smells like cow poo. Seriously. I'm getting definite pasture vibes. I can't figure out what's causing it.

The peanut butter isn't that different here. Crisis averted.

Can't find soy protein sandwich slices yet. This is a crisis.

The girls met their first little Wolfson friends yesterday. Emily, 5, (who we're guessing is German?) and Nae-Young, 8, who is our next door neighbor and has the most delicious little English accent. She's Korean and Muslim--that's a new combination to me. Her mom let her go with us for a walk around the grounds yesterday and she was a great little tour guide. Stories about ducks, and punting, and fires, and fetes. (Oh, by the way, our first day here we walked out and there were old people dancing to some semi-atrocious pre-recorded accordian-y music and the men were wearing kilts. We're not in Kansas anymore.)

Someone nearby practices the piano for hours and hours everyday. I have dubbed them the piano Nazi. Sometimes it's like we're living to the soundtrack to some Jane Austen movie. Other times it's worse.

For some reason I imagined everyone in Oxford would have these really posh accents, but the guy who sold Ben the cell phone today sounded like Ali G.

My hands are so incredibly dry. What's going on?

So overall the girls are doing great--they love it here. Ben and I are hanging in there. Sometimes we love it and other times we're in a homesick funk. I think having some connection to the outside world will help out with that a lot. Heck, knowing what time it is will help too.

Pictures will follow. I intended to stick them in this post, but we're off for a walk.

Damn the Piano Nazi. (Watch, it's probably Nae-Young.)