London holiday

We arrived on Momday morning at 7 am along with several hundred other non-UK visitors to wind our way slowly along the path to the immigration officer.  Our papers checked out and we cleared to customs.  With nothing to declare we headed out to meet the driver our son Ted had kindly arranged to meet us.   We are lucky we had a knowledgeable driver because it was long drive along narrow roads through boroughs for an hour until we pulled up to their house.   We never could have found it on our own.

Bruce booked all of our rooms and travel online over the past several months.  So I was surprised when we pulled up to a narrow drive leading up to an un impressive building.  On our last visit we stayed up in a nicely posh part of London, within walking distance of Harrod's.  The apartment was shabby chic Laura Ashley with comfy sofa and chairs, bedroom, kitchen.   Well you get the picture.  This time we were staying closer to Ted and Laura's who live in the "diverse, revitaling, urban pioneer southend.   Our hotel which I am growing to like is in the Docklands across the Thames from Canary Row.  It is a renovation of a shipping business.  We are on the sixth floor, former offices, overlooking a docking area for a ship.  By European standards it is a large room with one wall of glass that includes a door and two windows for wonderful breezes.  The breezes are important because the "air conditioning" is a floor fan.  Luckily the weather is quite temperate.  

The hotel has a ferry that crosses the Thames dropping us off at Canary Wharf  with some excellent restaurants, a Metro Tesco (grocery) and it has a Tube,  Overground and light Rail hub.  The first night we had a wonderful dinner at an Argentinian steakhouse.  And as life is we were seated a table away from a couple who had just arrived from Hawaii and who had been to Charlotte on business just recently.  Our hostess was thrilled when we told her where we were from because she had been there several as her parents used to mind an English antiques shop for a friend in South Charlotte.  Our waiter was from Dublin with tips for where to go when we were there next week.

Tomorrow we head to Paris for a few days before coming back and going to Dover on the weekend with Ted and family.  More to come.

Oh and Felix our four month old grandson is ever so cute.

How to know when to give up

One of my greatest failings is never knowing when to give up.  I often feel like that old Japanese soldier hiding out in some island jungle keeping watch, ready for battle long after the war was over. But other times I feel like the wimp who did not have the courage or energy to persevere. One time after heading out (pre-google and gps) only to feel lost and give up and come home only to discover I was one turn away from my goal, I asked my Dad why I had given up.  At the time his answer made no sense.  He said that I gave up becaiuse I could no longer see the land and feared the open sea.  I thought - huh I was in downtown Baltimore.  Now I think what he was saying was I was so focused on seeing the destination I failed to look around and recognize the clues along the way the landmarks the hint that I really was not lost at sea.
This has been a long summer.  My to- do list has gotten so long I have abandoned it and no new Fall list has appeared.  Usually when school starts and the evenings get cooler my nest feathering energy kicks in and projects start to poke up their heads but so far they haven't.  So here is the question have I given up because I can only see the end product and it looks too far away and I can't see any stopping off points so all I see is the huge expanse of sea between here and there or have I finally gotten smart and realized my limits.  Right now I just feel like I am caught in an eddy waiting for a wave or change in the tide.  Dad I need some advice.

Puppy love

Hubby and I are getting close to celebrating our 10 year anniversary. All of our children were grown and on there own by the time we married but then but like many couples we added to our family. We added Zed the best and last dog. Like the story goes He thought the dog would sleep in a kennel, I knew that was not likely. Soon Mr Zed was a permanent fixture in our bed. Who thought a Yorkie would ever take up so much space. I blame Dawson, the Golden who kept urging him to eat up and grow. This year has been a year of change. Hubby started the year in leg braces with the bed askew so no room for Mr Zed. Hubby is better but now I have leg cramps which drive me to leap out of bed to try to stretch out leg cramps. Not a great sleeping environment for Mr Zed. Seems he is a pretty good judge of prime time. Mr Zed has taken up sleeping under the bed, head in toosh out, except if either of us is gone then he quickly claims the vacated place opting for a single pillow please.

Where oh where has my little boy gone

Where oh where has Ashby gone?  The house is too quiet, there is no one to share lunch, I have been stuck inside all day with out any one luring me to come out and play.  I have forgotten how much energy and excitement an almost 3 year old boy can bring. 

Cinnamon Love

Cinnamon is a Siamese cat, about 35 years old, and still in pretty good shape considering.  She belongs to my youngest daughter who would carry her around and tell her secrets and generally love up on her.  She was never treated badly and spent most of her life either sleeping on the bed or being carried around by her owner.  After my daughter grew up and grew tired of having 'stuffed animals' Cinnamon was relegated to a carboard box. 

Then 10 years ago she moved into West Virginia and had the run of the house - so to speak.  The loft bed was her kingdom and she only had to share with a slightly tattered Koala Bear and her baby.  The older grandchildren are boys and when they came up to West Virginia they relegated her to the floor or maybe if she was lucky she got to sit on the ledge looking out over the family room.

Ashby changed everything.  He took a liking to her and she became his dining companion.  Ashby doesn't like to eat alone, he likes to bring a friend to all of his meals, especially dinner.  This however is where the story of Cinnamon love starts a new chapter.  This chapter is about how a boy loves Cinnamon. 

Here is a snapshot of dinner with Ashby and Cinnamon.  All starts out generous - Ashby shares his blueberries and his mac & cheese and chicken. And we talk.  I talk for Cinnamon, Ashby of course holds up his end of the conversation.  He asks politely if Cinnamon would like a blueberry and of course Cinnamon says thank you.  After many offerings and thank you's, Ashby begins using the plastic bug catching tweazers that he is now using to pickup up his blueberries one at at time, and he plucks out her eye.  Looking at me he says, make her cry.  That means I make a little wimper and then snuggle Cinnamon up in my arms and pat her and say there, there, it will be alright. Cinnamon is a brave cat, so back she goes to dinner only to have her tail pinched and her feet plucked and her nose bopped.  Many pats and loves later (for Cinnamon), the tweazers decide to do good works,  Ashby removes splinters from her head and her nose even one from her eye.  By now dinner is almost done and Cinnamon is again relegated to an evening snoozing on the table or floor in the living room. 

Dinner is never going to be the same without someone to share it with!  And I am always amazed at how quickly Ashby can move a conversation from one idea to the next, changing fixed objects into multiple new ideas.  Poor Cinnamon now she sits on the table waiting to be carried back up to her perch where she gets to wait again for some little boy love to arrive and love her into life.

The best of days

Vacations are supposed to be days away from routine. Times when you can stay up late,spend hours on the beach,eat standing up, stay in your pj's until noon. This weekend has been a vacation. This morning West Virginia gave us a cloudless morning with a gentle breeze and cool temperatures that let me sit on the porch in my pj's with my daughter drinking coffee while my grandson used kitchen utensils to dig holes. In the afternoon his Dad let him water all the tree stumps and blades of grass.

I hope someday when he is a man and someone mentions vacation his distant memory of days being happy under a cloudless blue sky. That is where my mind goes when work closes in and escape whispers come and play.

Thank you Mr Ashby. You reminded me of all of the wonderful idle days watching your Mom and her siblings play.

You know you are getting old when

You go to the Beach Boys 50th anniversary reunion concert and park in handicapped accessible parking. And the Boys are getting old. When did the Beach Boys start wearing bling and driving Bentley's? It was a great weekend. Hubby flew up to meet me in Baltimore and we did the Harbour, had lunch with my sister and husband,shared a pretzel with our grandson at the street fair in Fells Point, navigated from our hotel to my daughter's house on the "Charm City Circulator", got kisses from Miss Madi and were awestruck by the Blue Angels fly over. We are heading home to Charlotte wondering if our next move should be to Baltimore Harbour. Could I really have it all? Urban, water view (no boat required) close to family, easy access to the airport. I just have to find the golf courses and the right neighborhood!!