We interrupt this weekend for a psa

I don't normally blog on the weekends but-

Yesterday I told a little story on my blog about our arrival/first day of school in the UK. Rebekah commented that she hoped my daughter would write a response so she could hear her perspective. And she did. And it's too sweet...go visit daughter1 and read what she wrote.

Enjoy your weekend!

The First Day of School

I'm linking up with Flashback Friday today...visit Mylestones to read more posts on this week's theme-school days.

On the last day of August in 2003 we touched down at Heathrow Airport.

Our new home. (England, not Heathrow).

Daughter1 was 15 and entering grade 10. Daughter 2 would be turning 13 in less than two weeks and was entering grade 8. We collected our luggage and located our driver who deposited us in the driveway of our new home.

A home our children had never seen in a country they had never set foot in before that day.

Our relocation agent was supposed to meet us at the house but there was a mix up and another agent had grabbed our keys by mistake so he was delayed.

We didn’t know this. We had no phone.

So we stood in the driveway and wobbled. Husband recognized his three girls were teetering on the brink of something that would not be pretty so we checked into the local hotel.

The girls promptly fell asleep and dreamed that their parents had not taken them an ocean away from everything cherished and familiar.

We woke up the next day in what felt to us like the middle of the night.

Everyone had a stomach full of dancing kangaroos.

We were tired yet wired.

We were headed to our first day of school.

We passed thru the gates and my children had their first glimpse of the International School from which they would both later graduate.

We didn’t know that then.

We’re only here for 3 years. Tops.

Right.

Kangaroos are doing the polka now.

The school is housed in a former manor house and it is beautiful. We step into the lobby and are greeted by the very nice receptionist. Almost immediately someone arrives to whisk daughter1 away. She needs to take ‘just a little French assessment’ before they can give her a schedule.

Mom is reassuring.

assessment =20 minutes max, right?

The examiner said she'd be back in two hours.

Kangaroos are doing the can can now.

Daughter1 shoots mom the evil eye.

Meanwhile, back in the red room...

Yes. There is a red room.

It is indeed red. And gorgeous.

I want to go to school here.

Or at least have coffee in the red room.

Oh, I will have coffee in the red room.

Hundreds of coffees over the span of the next five years.

We are escorted over to the middle school wing. Daughter2 is led away to find her locker, a classroom and fifty new best friends. The secretary inquires of mom and dad as to whether or not daughter2 will be going pony trekking because if she is pony trekking we need to pay. Today.

Pony trekking?

That sounds like riding ponies.

Daughter2 hasn’t done that unless you count the occasional birthday party.

No, this is pony trekking.

As in riding horses in the Black Mountains.

In Wales.

With the rest of the 8^th grade.

Oh, well, yes, if the whole 8^th grade is going yes of course.

Right. You’ll need to pay.

We have no bank account.

Can we pay in US dollars?

35 phone calls later the conversion rate has been calculated.

Okay, she's good to go. Next week.

For three days.

She’ll need a sleeping bag.

No problem-we have four.

They are in our shipment.

Which is still at sea.

Note to self-buy sleeping bag.

First learn to drive.

Then locate the nearest Target.

That would be America.

That’s a problem.

Mom and Dad leave the middle school office in a stupor.

What have we done?

Where is Wales?

Is that England?

Is a three day pony trekking trip dangerous?

The Black Mountains sound ominous.

Mom returns to office…idiotically inquires as to whether there are chaperones.

Oh yes. The teachers.

Alrighty then.

Meet daughter1 in highschool office.

!!! Mom!!!

!!!I had to write an essay!!!

!!!In French!!!

Daughter1 throws daggers with her eyes.

Mom can see the daggers behind the tears that are threatening.

Principal appears. Principal is nice. Oh so very very nice.

A warm smile. A gift. Principal is also new but has mostly lost the dazed look common to the newly arrived. He hasn’t lost his sense of compassion.

He never does.

He calls to a girl in the hall.

She’s an Aussie.

Show daughter1 around please.

Sure. She smiles.

Aussies are happy.

I think it’s the weather.

Daughter1 is led off to the lockers and to meet her classmates.

From no less than 40 countries.

And to wonder what in the world has happened to her life???

We wrap up the paperwork and the tour and the organizing.

Daughter2 knows she is going to love it.

I’m going pony trekking!

With 50 of my new best friends!

Yay!

Daughter1 puts on her brave face.

And cries herself to sleep.

More than once.

And misses her big American highschool.

And the place she called home.

New friends call.

Shopping in London? Yes please.

Time passes. Tears stop. Smiles grow big.

Home is here.

Living in a foreign country is educational in every sense of the word.

We spent an enormous chunk of time in this school building.

A safe place. Friendly faces. A home away from home.

An entire world was opened up to us in this school.

Friendships were born.

For mom and dad too.

Trips were taken.

Art in Berlin and Barcelona.

Spanish in Spain.

French in France.

Theatre in the Czech Republic.

Senior trips to Turkey and Cyprus.

Sporting events in Paris, Cairo, Antwerp, The Hague, Munich and Frankfurt.

Music performances, plays, ceremonies.

Graduations.

People moved in and people moved out.

Every. single. year.

A place to learn not only maths and history.

But also life.

Among people who look and speak and dress and think differently than we do.

Among people who laugh and cry, work and play, study and travel.

Among people who love their families and their pets and their home countries.

People like us.

Your children thank you.

For shaking up their world.

You cannot live in an international community and not be changed by it. Some days are hard. Some days are more than a little bit frustrating. Some days are completely amazing.

Some days you cannot believe how your world spun differently forever after that first day of school.

I know I'm not the only one...

Income taxes? Blech. I’ve been working on our online organizer which must be submitted to the accounting firm by Monday or else! Quite honestly I think I’d rather give the ski jump a try than answer one more question about how many days of the year were spent in the UK and how many in the US and how many in Timbuktu and were we working/vacationing/in transit/on a designated work holiday/weekend/ oh and color code it by country thank you blah blah blah.

Once we moved to the UK we had to bring in the professionals because I love words not numbers but also if you could see the book that our final paperwork turns out to be you’d understand. We also have to file taxes in the UK except their tax year is different than our tax year (naturally) so yay! we get tax fun pretty much year round. And the whole half a year in one country and half a year in another country complicates matters. I know you’re thinking how can it possibly be more complicated but trust me, it can.

American Idol? Get on with the singing already. It feels like it has been yakkety yak yak yakking this time around. Enough with the talking pu-leez!

Curling? Huh?

Women’s alpine skiing? Yikes! I couldn’t watch when the Swiss girl bounced across the slope. The reports today said she suffered just a little dizziness but other than that she was okay. This is why you don’t see 40 something year old women on the ski team. If I bounced across the slope like that I’d be the color of an eggplant. Which is aubergine. I love that word.

The Bachelor? Stop the madness. Like watching a train wreck. Or an alpine skier on an icy slope in Vancouver.

DTR? Daughter 2 and I were just on the phone and she casually dropped this into the conversation and continued right on with her story. I had to tell her to back up for a quick vocabulary lesson. Any guesses? Define the relationship. You know...Are we friends? Are we boyfriend/girlfriend? Some days I'm glad I'm my age. She told me I could use it if I wanted although she could not in her wildest dreams imagine what circumstances would require me uttering DTR. Guess she forgot I had a blog. Technically I think her dad and I have already d'd our r by getting married. I think you can see why my kids tell me not to use their lingo. And also not to use the word 'lingo'.

Graduation Announcements? Crazy! Daughter1 needs to place her order today. She is graduating. She's graduating. She is graduating. Maybe, just maybe, if I say it many many times the words will not feel so strange on my tongue. Or in my heart.

Spring? Thirty days away. At least that's what the calendar says. Bring on the daffodils!

A Random of Olympic Proportion

It’s time for the weekly random dozen hosted by Lid at 2^nd cup of coffee….why not play along? Answer the questions on your own blog and link your answers here to share.

1. If you could compete in one Olympic event (not necessarily winter sports) what would it be?


Well I would love to be a great alpine skier….I love to go fast and I love being outdoors and I love the atmosphere of a ski town. Oh, and the clothes…I love ski clothes. Of course this is all assuming I’m coordinated. And that I have whatever skill is required to win compete. We’re dreaming here right?

I love to swim so if we’re talking summer Olympics I’d say swimming. Although I cannot say I feel the same way about myself in a swim suit as I do in ski clothes.

2. Do you remember a specific Olympic moment from the past?

I loved seeing Dan Jansen finally win a gold medal in speed skating in 1994.


3. Have you ever known anyone who competed in the Olympics?

no


4. If everyday activities were Olympic-worthy, which activity would you have a gold medal in?

I’ve just taken a quick inventory of my everyday activities and I can’t come up with a single one that is gold medal worthy. That was more than a little depressing. Cooking? Silver maybe.

5. Do you know anything about your ethnic heritage?


yes-more on my dads side than my moms but essentially I’m English, Irish, French and German…my maiden name is English. That makes me very happy.

6. Do you enjoy sleeping late?


I love to sleep but I am not a late sleeper. I wish I could sleep late but I am an early riser and it doesn’t matter how late I go to bed, I’m still up early.

7. Have you ever performed CPR on anyone? Do you know how? (Yes, that's two, I know. Whatevs.)


yes I do know how and no I’ve never had to-thankfully!

8. Name one country you'd like to visit and explain why.


Uh…do you know me? Actually no you probably don’t but do you read my blog? Well I’ve written ad nauseum about my love of a small island called England and also about my happy place which is Italy and I may have mentioned France a time or ten so those countries are always at the top of my list. I’ve seen a whole lot of them in the past seven years though so if I have to pick somewhere new, hmmm….how about a trip around the Greek isles…I’ve been to Athens but I need to see the islands. Really I’m generally up for a trip just about anywhere. It’s a great big world and I’d like to see it all.

9. Have you ever fixed up a couple romantically?


no…unless you count my attempts at arranging the future marriages of my children.

10. What is the last book you read?


I read a lot. I generally have more than one book going. I recently read The Help by Kathryn Stockett (fantastic!), Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay (couldn’t put it down) and South of Broad by Pat Conroy (he has a way with words that I envy)

Currently I am reading:

The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning

Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese (fiction)

His Excellency by Joseph Ellis (a biography of George Washington)

11. Do you enjoy sleeping late?


hmmm…I’m thinking whoever wrote these questions really really really likes sleeping late since Lid someone asked this question twice.

12. What is your favorite meal at your favorite restaurant?

Oh this is practically impossible to answer. I’m not sure I can even tell you my favorite restaurant….I love a crab feast at Cantlers on the river in Annapolis…I love a curry at Bawarchis in our little village in England….I love fish and chips at The Royal Standard…I love an excellent steak in many a steak house. I am not hard to please when it comes to dining out. Or dining in for that matter.

Birds of the Air. And also the Deck.

Well it’s snowing here today. Shocking I know. You’ll be happy to hear I did not eat the bunco coffee cake. Of course the day isn’t over yet.

The snow today is beautiful...big fluffy flakes. We have a lot of woods on our property and they are just gorgeous all dressed in white.

My backyard has become just a teensy bit like that Hitchcock movie The Birds this winter. Seriously, it’s crazy out there. We have a bird feeder hanging off of our deck and at any given time there are between 12 and 15 birds on and around it. They are spilling seed all over the ground below which is a small mess but the ground is too frozen to even think about relocating the feeder at this point. And yes I know you're not supposed to move a bird feeder mid-winter once the birds have zoned in on it. Besides, I'm pretty sure they might divebomb whoever tried...they are serious about their food. It's been a long winter folks...even the birds would agree.

We have some bushes growing along the boulders further back on our property and they are also filled with birds.

Try not to be overwhelmed by my mad photo skilz….I have been trying all winter to get some good pictures because I've loved standing at my kitchen sink watching them play as they flit back and forth between the feeder and the bushes. I have tried taking pictures thru the window but there is a glare. I've tried quietly opening the sliding door to the deck but hello, I have a bird dog in the house and the birds are wise to that. I've even tried sneaking up on them by going out the front door and coming around the side of the house. Wherever did that expression bird brained come from anyway? These birds are smart.

Are we sick of blog posts about snow yet? Here's how I compartmentalize when Old Man Winter comes a calling...

Things not to think about on a snow day-

1. The bill from my snow plow service

2. The bill from the gas company

3. Psychological thrillers involving bird attacks.

4. The fun I'm missing out on because my plans for today were cancelled.

5. The coffee cake sitting in my refrigerator just begging to be eaten.

Things to think about on a snow day-

1. Spring. As sure as the world turns spring is coming.

2. The beauty of creation.

It might be messy. It might wreak havoc with our plans. But it is beautiful.

3. Matthew 6:26

4. The miracle of the internet.

5. The coffee cake sitting in my refrigerator just begging to be eaten.

Ok. I can see that my plan might still need a little work.

These boots are made for walking

So what did you get for President's Day? I got clean floors. My husband vacuumed and polished all the hardwood floors in the house this morning and I cannot tell a lie..that is a huge job. He also brought home a dozen beautiful yellow roses for Valentine's Day on Friday night but if you ask me which gift I prefer I think I'm gonna say my sparkling clean floors.

Since he had the day off today we also went out to lunch and then took the dog for a nice long walk thru the snowy woods. Such a gorgeous day! Crystal clear bright blue skies and the temperature wasn't bad either...absolutely perfect for walking. It also gave Dixie a chance to try out her Valentine's Day gift...brand new snow booties. Our dog is not of the teacup variety...she's a big ole setter who prefers the coat she was born with so we don't typically dress her up. She does love a romp thru the woods however and when the snow freezes to the bottom of her paws she refuses to set her foot down which makes the whole walking in winter thing a little challenging. We thought the booties might help but we weren't sure if she would cooperate. And it was a little bit like fitting a 12 month old child with their first pair of shoes but eventually the hubs managed to get one strapped on her paw. Dixie did not know what to do with herself. She galloped thru the house and danced and spun and finally gave up and plopped in the chair.

Sorry girl...there are three more to go. I managed to remember to turn on the video today as we were loading her into the car...

And of course once we got to the woods she forgot all about the boots.

She loves to be outdoors...

She walks a few feet then sticks her whole head in the snow and has herself a snack.

Speaking of snacks...I'm hosting Bunco at my house in the morning so when we got home from our walk I baked a coffee cake for tomorrow.

It's called Sinful Sour Cream Coffee Cake and it is without question, the world's best coffee cake. And guess what John Q. Weatherman just said? He said it is supposed to snow another 4-6 inches tonite which means it is quite possible bunco will be cancelled in the morning. Do you know what that means? It means hubs and I would have to eat that whole cake ourselves.

Oh my.

That would be tragic.

My very own wonder years

"There was a time when the world was enormous...Spanning the vast, almost infinite boundaries of your neighborhood. The place where you grew up. Where you didn't think twice about playing on someone else's lawn. And the street was your territory that occasionally got invaded by a passing car. It was where you didn't get called home until after it was dark. And all the people, and all the houses that surrounded you were as familiar as the things in your own room. And you knew they would never change."

Kevin Arnold, The Wonder Years

I loved the television show The Wonder Years. It captured in words and music much of what it felt like to grow up in suburbia in the late 1960's and 70's. I've recently reconnected with some friends from my Elementary School days on facebook and its gotten me thinking. I will be honest and say we're going back more than a few years. Decades in fact. A childhood friend posted a class picture from our second grade year, another classmate left a comment and the memories of our own 'wonder years' rolled right into the present.

My mother made a scrapbook for me a while back which included, among other things, all my class photos. She also saved this-

Miss McGee was my second grade teacher and I loved her. Obviously. Even though she did correct my grammar on the note I wrote her.

I loved pretty much all of elementary school. I grew up in a fairly big neighborhood and we traveled around more or less as a group. Kids of all ages would meet in the middle of our street for huge games of kick the can and hide and seek. We played at the duck pond, even skating on it when it froze. We rode our bicycles everywhere. We felt free. We walked to school...it was about seven blocks for my sister and I but there were bunches of us so it felt perfectly safe. And I think it was. We even walked home for an hour at lunch.

We had block parties and cook outs, sleep overs and birthday parties at home. We disagreed but we settled those things amongst ourselves. As kids. We hung out at the pool, caught fireflies in jars and watched Saturday morning cartoons. We built forts and wore bell bottoms and played dodge ball at recess. A war raged a world away yet for us it was still a time of innocence. We knew each other well..knew parents and siblings and family pets...knew whose mom was always up for a houseful of kids and whose mom would shoo us outdoors. We knew strength and weakness. We argued and loved and defended each other. And we learned from one another lessons that we carried out of the neighborhood and on into life.

I haven't talked to some of these friends in close to 30 years. Something very 21st century has brought the neighborhood full circle. We're older (definitely) and wiser (hopefully) but underneath it all we're still the kids from Barclay.

'Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers, the next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place, a town, a house like a lot of other houses, a yard like a lot of other yards, on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is, after all these years, I still look back, with wonder.'

Kevin Arnold, The Wonder Years

Check out more Flashback Friday posts at Mylestones