A day in the life of a nomad...

The New Blog

2009-10-15T09:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Everyone (if I have any blog stalkers left)...
I have been utterly horrible at keeping up with this blog. I can't seem to keep up with three different blogs. I'm not that organized.

Therefore, I am moving all family, photography and recipe posts to our new photography blog. You can access it at www.bluerockphotos.com/blog. The pictures are bigger. I update it almost daily. You'll be able to see what's new with my photography. What's new with Weslee. What's new with our travels. And what's new with our life.

We love you all and we'll see you there!

:) Teri

The Reasons I love you...

2009-09-07T14:14:00.000-07:00

Oh my little man! You are a bucket of personality right now. There's not a day that goes by that I don't die laughing. We have the most fun together...and you keep me young each time we play!

Some of my favorite parts about you right now are: You love to give kisses...butterfly kisses, eskimo kisses, and regular kisses...you are so affectionate. I love how you hug and kiss both your dad and I each night before bed and we have to pry you off!

You are starting to "get" and initiate games like "hide and seek". You love to "hide" from mom and dad, even if we are right there beside you watching you hide. You love to giggle and "shhh" at yourself while waiting for us to discover you under towels, couches, behind beds, and under the table. We often find you buried under all of your blankets at night, sweating to death, still waiting for us to find you. When it gets quiet in your room, we tippy toe in there to pull you out from your sweaty hiding spot, put Sheepie under your arm, and cover you properly. We can't help but kiss your head and talk about how adorable you are.

You have started imitating people's conversations. Because you can't string together real words quickly enough, you often throw in the important ones and fill in the rest of the conversation with what dad and I have started calling "Dub a Dub" language. Your conversation might sound like this. "Mom! Dub a dubba dub a Sheepie dub a dubba dub down". We'll reply. "Oh no! Did Sheepie fall down?" Your answer: "Yeaaaah. Sheepie down." You also like to copy the exact words you hear in conversations between people. For instance, at church this past Sunday while waiting for us to remove you from your carseat, you heard us greet another family with "How are you doing?" and you heard them reply "Oh Fine!". Suddenly, from the backseat we heard, "How a do-neen? Fiiiiiiiiine!" Your dad and I cracked up and complimented you on your big words.

You are a little crazy...it's totally true. And you come by it honestly. At night (or really, whenever you're tired), you don't get cranky, you get WILD! Tonight was just such a night. You needed a bath REALLY badly and we put you into the tub a little late. By the end of the bath, there was more water on the floor than in the tub I think. You had your terry cloth puppet, "Mr. Frog" diving into the water at alarming speeds, sending water and bubbles flying over the edge of the tub. You were laughing at the top of your lungs. You thought it was utterly hilarious. (To be honest, I couldn't help laughing too.) Again, at church, we woke you before you were ready and you were tired inside the chapel. We brought Teddy Grahams to keep you occupied. You decided to make a game of it and tried stuffng the crackers in as fast as you could. You looked like a chipmunk that had had too much caffeine! Your cheeks were filled with cracker and you were shaking your arm was so tense trying to make it go faster and faster from bag to mouth! We tried not to bust out laughing right in the middle of testimonies!

You are a good friend. You still love and care for the other kids you play with. You're still good at sharing, though you have learned the word "Mine!", you're quick to say "Sorry" if another kid gets hurt...even if you weren't the one at fault. You're still laid back and easy going. You are a happy kid, and I love you so much for it! You are just happy to be alive...and it reminds me everyday to look for my blessings too and count them one by one...starting with YOU!

Scotland

2009-09-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

Paris, France

2009-09-04T07:21:00.000-07:00

At the last moment, Kevin and I decided to go to Paris for our 9th anniversary. Our friends, the Hatchs, were kind enough to watch Weslee for our 3 1/2 day trip.

I found out some interesting things about myself on this trip. I found out that I've allowed propaganda from the various wars in my lifetime to make me prejudice against the French...and other nationalities as well. I went to Paris not expecting to like the French people very much. I think subconsciously, I thought I'd find a mob of people who hated Americans, were burning their bras and our flag in the streets, and in general, just behaving like heathens.

Instead, we were greeted by a highly cultured, cordial people who took a great deal of pride in their history, their food, and their city. They were kind and patient as we stumbled through our handful of poorly spoken French phrases and flat out asked for help in English. One waiter went so far as to explain his entire menu to us and help us order something that was typical of the region. Only one unsavory character crossed our path...and that was on our first night while trying to purchase tickets for the metro. He was just a little too friendly for both of our likings...and while I went straight to the assumption that the man was mentally ill (a year in a mental health facility will do that to you), Kevin realized that we were being pickpocketed and caught the guy before he had taken anything of value. It kept us a little on edge the rest of the trip, especially when we were in large crowds...like at the Eiffel Tower or in the Notre Dame (sad, but true). Many times, we'd see signs warning of pickpockets and to keep watchful care of your valuables. And, in other exciting robbery news...we weren't able to visit the large market on the Rue Mouffetard because a bank robbery was in progress. They shut the entire area down and even had a very loud and noisy helicopter hovering above the few city blocks we had intended to visit that morning. We had planned to purchase some interesting cheeses and a roasted chicken for lunch that day...but we ended up lunching at a sandwich shop instead. Oh well...we captured some fun-filled pictures of the helicopter at least.

So...what were our impressions of Paris itself? I have to say that the first night, arriving near midnight, shrouded the City of Lights in a veil of depravity. Again, I had arrived with my prejudices and the almost immediate attack of a pickpocket had me thinking and feeling the worst. The stench of urine hung heavy in the metro station and it seemed to me that slouchy, homeless characters leered at Kevin and I hauling our luggage through the night waiting to jump us when the crowd died down. When the metro train pulled up, I stared at the cars covered in graffiti and was actually afraid to board. We exited the train at Place de Clichy and as we emerged from the dark of the station, we were met with the red glowing lights of the Moulin Rouge, and blaring neon that shouted "Sex", "Fantasy" and "XXX". As we walked down the street, two homeless men urinated in the bushes while watching us pass. It later struck us as ironic that the bushes they were watering were only a few feet from a free public restroom. Crouching around our belongings, Kevin finally pulled out our GPS to find our hotel and within a few minutes walk, we found the Hotel Utrillo.

Online, the Hotel Utrillo was given a 3 star rating. It even came highly recommended in Fodor's travel guide. It was indeed in a safe and bustling neighborhood by day...but again, we arrived at just after midnight and the place seemed dead and the street outside very dark. Our actual room was tiny, but clean. Except for the moldy tiles in the shower...but we've come to expect that as "normal" in the European countries. We actually came to like our room quite well. The bed was comfortable, the neighborhood lively, the metro station close...and we just ignored the moldy smell emanating from the shower.

Day two began to convince us of Paris's charms. As we walked down the street toward the Place de Clichy, the smell of the cafes and baking bread filled the streets. The locals and tourists alike dined on the sidewalks and the sound of clinking glassware could be heard like little tinkling bells in the distance. We basked in the already warm sun. We ate fresh bread and Pain au chocolat from the boulangerie and bought some of the best nectarines I've ever eaten from the market across the street. We enjoyed them while sitting in front of the Moulin Rouge, engaging in France's greatest passtime...people watching. It was fun to enjoy the fruit and bread while watching tourists fumble with their maps, and lovers stroll aimlessly along while holding hands. Today we were better with the Metro. It began to make sense, at least to Kevin and we soon found ourselves at the Louvre. We took the 1 1/2 hour "masterpieces" tour, getting lost in the maze of art and finding ourselves snapping pictures of some of the most iconic pieces on earth. Kevin desecribed Da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" as the most "overrated painting of all time". Though, I must say...she really drew the crowds. The crowds were so large, it was almost impossible to get a picture. I did something I never do to finally snap a shot. I knowingly broke the rules and got on Kevin's shoulders to finally grab a picture. It's funny...it you look closely, you can see the museum steward's very surprised face. Two seconds later, another steward was kindly asking us something that began with "Si vous plait" which we interpretted to mean that my picture time with Mona was done. A little embarrassed...but quite a bit triumphant, I moved on to the next masterpiece. My favorite of all of the paintings was one of Napoleon Bonaparte. It was so real to life, it felt like you could step into the painting like it was another room. I also really enjoyed Michelangelo's "Two Slaves". Kevin and I reaffirmed something about ourselves that we've always really suspected...we have no appreciation for art. We admire some of the aspects of art, like the time it takes to create the masterpieces, and the details in some of the sculpture...but really, after an hour and a half in the museum, both of us were no longer impressed with critic acclaimed pictures of naked women. The French Revolution picture was the most perplexing. The Republic, represented by a woman who's shirt has fallen off, is marching along with blood soaked, scruffy soldiers. We kept wondering why her shirt needed to be off? To us it was just gratuious nudity. It didn't make sense.

Anyways...back to the subject at hand...Paris. After the Louvre, we walked to the Notre Dame. What a beautiful cathedral. Our favorite part was climbing up to the top to catch a panoramic view of the city. We got to tour the bell towers...and NO, Quasi Moto is not there. We checked. Although the line to climb the top was absolutely crazy, going to the top of Notre Dame was by far, one of our favorite things we did. We have decided that since there are no big mountains to hike around here, we've taken to hiking churches and castles. So far, I have hiked to the top of some of the most iconic cathedrals in Europe. The Duomo in Florence, Italy...the Notre Dame in Paris, France...and this December, my whole family will hike to the top of St. Paul's Cathedral in London. After touring the top, we went inside. The stained glass was absolutely breathtaking. I don't think I've ever seen such gorgeous windows. I will have to say that I pitied the people who use the church as a place of worship. There were hordes of tourists coming and going, snapping pictures, clinking money into the money bins to buy candles to light for relatives and other people who need prayers, people whispering to one another, tour guides answering questions. I find that when I'm trying to commune with God, it takes all of my concentration to really tell him about my feelings, my struggles, and my needs. It takes all of my strength to listen for inspiration and guidance about how to meet those challenges. I wondered if I would be able to gain that kind of communion with my Maker if all of the hub-bub that happened in Notre Dame were happening in my own Sunday chapel back home? I don't think I would. My heart went out to them.

After a ham and cheese crepe, and alot of walking, we were back home. We crashed into bed with sore feet, but happy and cheerful thoughts. It had been a good day.

Day three was the day we headed to the market at Rue de Mouffetard. We weren't able to go to the market because of the bank robbery in progress...so, we caught a Batobus (which is one of the many boats that go up and down the River Seine) and rode from Notre Dame to the Eiffel Tower. I got so many good pictures. It was so cool to see the Eiffel Tower rise majestically as we rounded the bend in the river. We got out of the bus at the tower to take pictures in the daylight, hoping to go up the tower around sunset...and hoping that the insane crowds would die down (they didn't). There were lots of people selling miniature Eiffel Towers. Apparently they were illegal immigrants because they started running away when the Police showed up. I almost got killed trying to take a picture of them holding the miniatures (I have dumb moments...just like everyone else). My camera was focused on their hands, not their faces...and Kevin had to save me by taking the camera away. I was a little shaken for the next hour or so...more from my stupidity than anything else. But, I eventually got over it.

We headed to the Arc de Triomphe next. We ran across a VERY busy 6 lane roundabout, not realizing that there was an underground walkway to the Arch. We weren't the only ones who made that mistake. While at the Arch, I realized that the United States is not the only one with an Unnamed Soldier who has fallen in battle. In the center of the arch, an eternal flame burns for France's Unnamed Soldier. I'm sure every country has lost sons and daughters that can't be identified. My heart suddenly swelled for the French people and the sufferings they've felt during war. They became my brothers and my sisters that day.

From the Arch, we travelled down the Champs Elysees, which turned out to be the ritzy area of town. It was full of upscale shops and restaurants and a very interesting person dressed up like Pharoah who stood perfectly still and hoped you would put money in his little basket for standing so still. It was an interesting act. We saw another just down the street at the Place de Concordance where Madame la Guillotine used to stand. Now, a large obelisk and two fountains stand sentinel over the place that used to run with the blood of the noble men and women of France.

After a much needed dinner at the La Ferme de Opera sandwich shop, we headed yet again towards the Batobus to catch a ride to the Eiffel Tower. We decided to hike the first two floors and take the elevator to the top at the second floor. Not only was it cheaper, but again...Kevin and I like to hike (although the knee I hurt in soccer in high school doesn't always appreciate it). We only had to wait for 15 minutes before we were hike, hike, hiking our way to the tallest point in Paris. It turned out to be one of the most humorous events of the trip. It turns out, Kevin is VERY afraid of heights. I didn't know this about him. I've known the man for a decade and did not know that he could not tolerate heights. It was fun to watch him try to catch it all on video tape while trying not to look himself. He'd hang the video camera out over the edge and turn and look the other way. (We haven't watched the video yet...it might be fun to see what he took pictures of). It probably didn't help that the tower was made so that you can see all around you while you're climbing. Kevin would try to get up the stairs as quickly as possible so that he could stand on the platform and look out at the horizon. (When he's looking at the horizon, he's OK...it's when he looks down that it's a problem). The elevator ride to the very top was amusing as well. It was a glass elevator...and scary even for me. Kevin didn't really like that at all! I must say, though...he really pushes himself. He figures his only way to get over it is to make himself do it anyway. He actually looked over the edge more than I did. And, he hung my camera out over the edge to get some cool pics of the Tower from the top down. I was too afraid to do that. I actually couldn't watch him hang the camera over like that. It gave me butterflies. (Kevin's right...I've got my priorities ALL mixed up!) At night, the tower lit up and every hour on the hour, it presented a light show to the world. We were able to get down for the 11pm light show. It was so beautiful!

That night it was difficult to fall asleep. My feet hurt so badly from all of the climbing and walking. I had blisters. I felt like a cripple. But, I awoke the next morning ready for Versailles.

Before we checked out the next morning, we ran quickly down the street from the hotel to Santa Croce. There was another long flight of stairs and I thought I was going to die...but we made it. The cathedral was beautiful. The Parisians call it the "sculpted cloud" and for good reason. Made of sparkling white stone with domed chapels, it very much resembles a cloud. While we were there, a man played all kinds of wonderful music on a harp. Looking over the hazy city, it was a nice touch. We finally bought a few Eiffel Tower trinkets from some of the vendors there, grabbed a baguette sandwich for lunch and headed back to the hotel to check out.

From the hotel, we headed WITH all of our luggage to Versailles. Between the Metro and the train, it took 45 minutes to get there. By the time we got there, we had 2 hours to tour the place. Being the art fanatics that we are, we decided to skip the tour of the inside which probably housed alot more art and "fine" things, and opted instead to rent a golf cart and tour the gardens. It was SO MUCH FUN. Kevin drove us through the maze of shrubbery and trees that once used to be highly manicured gardens. It was fun to catch glimpes of King Louis XIV's palace through the green. The gardens were absolutely massive and it took an hour to drive at a steady pace of 5 mph through all of it. We barely had time to stop and snap pictures along the way. Kevin and I both came to the same conclusion at the end of the tour, however. While Versailles is certainly massive and impressive in it's sheer size, it lacks some character that we've seen in other palaces. Everything, the building facade, the gravel paths, even the sculptures...all blended together in a blinding swirl of white. It was fun to see what the "Sun King" thought was impressive and best displayed his pomp, though. It was a fun end of our Parisian tour.

Now, a couple of weeks down the road from the trip, the things that still stick in my mind are the smell of urine. Yes...it was quite a stench...and you unexpectedly came across the smell in the most random of places. The AMAZING bread. Kevin and I both agree that we will never call it "Italian" bread again...the Italians DON'T know what they're doing with bread...we know that from experience. But the French...ahhh....they DO know how to make some of the best bread in the world. I still crave it, even a few weeks later. I can feel the crispy crust and the lusciously chewy center in my mouth as I write this out...ok Teri...enough!!! How colorful it was. I was in love with their subway stations. I loved the loud colors, the modern chairs and benches. I loved how ecclectic Paris is. I could see myself being right at home as a photographer in Paris. And last, the sidewalk cafes. I couldn't get enough of the charm of sitting outdoors with a nice meal and your "honey" and watching the golden sunset bounce off of ancient buildings. In a word, it was wonderful.

Home

2009-07-08T14:16:00.001-07:00

Ok...so I have been so focused on keeping up with my photography blog, that I've totally neglected my family blog (how sad is that???) Anyway...I wanted to write a little of the last month. Kevin has been away from us since the end of March and I was not handling the separation well at all. There have been few, if any, times in my life where I have truly experienced homesickness. I am truly a gypsy at heart. I love new experiences, new places, and new faces. But, probably the combination of being a lone mother of a two year old, living in a foreign country, and just missing Kevin to death brought on a rather crazy case of homesickness. So, we flew to the USA to be with Kevin. And what a fun experience it has been!

I was super worried about flying for 10 hours with a toddler. But, once again, my little master-traveller handled it beautifully. Out of 14 hours of being on the "road" so to speak, we had 5 mintues of bad behavior. I was amazed!!! (Where did this kid come from anyway?) He played with the little toys I brought, his books, ate snacks, played with the earphones the flight attendants gave him and was happy as a clam. He briefly watched the airplane movies, and just chilled in his chair for most of the time. The guy beside us was amazed. You could tell when he sat down that he thought he'd have a rough flight. But, aside from the crumbs that were thrown his way a couple of times, it was a "good flight" according to him.

Our plane was delayed both in London and in Chicago. We ended up getting to Omaha at 9pm (about 4am our time). Kevin waited for several hours for us and it was so good to see him at the airport just reading his book. When we got home, we were so exhausted, we just fell into bed.

It took us a couple of days to recover. But, recover we did! And then the adventure began. The first week, we mostly ate at all of the restaurants I've missed, hung out at the swimming pool and basked in the sunlight, got a suntan, and played board games. For the first time this year, it truly felt like summer. I got a little bit of a sunburn, Weslee always smelled like coconut because of the sunblock we had to smear all over his fair skin. It smelled like barbeque in the air. And the hot, sticky breeze blew all day long. At night there were fireflies and a big bright moon. It was a wierd sensation of feeling like you're finally "home" and knowing all the while that home is thousands of miles away in a whole 'nother country.

The next week brought time with my family. Mom, Dad, Bubba, and his wife Tessa, Charla and my little clan all met at my brother's loft apartment in Kansas City for a weekend sleepover. We shopped at the outdoor market, went to see "Up", strolled through an art fair, and just hung out and talked. Weslee almost got his ankles nipped off by these vicious little dogs at the swimming pool at their apartment complex and he screamed joyfully at them at the top of his lungs. He was so excited to have those little ankle biters circling around him. I don't think he realized the growling was a scary thing. I was feeling a little edgy and overprotective. I'm not a dog person anyway...so I wasn't real wild about the crazy dogs at the pool. Dad made some awesome steaks for us to eat, and Tessa was a gourmet chef and we got to sample her food. I got to take pictures of the different family groups and we got to hear my sister's latest songs she's written. It was so awesome...and hard to say goodbye at the end of the weekend.

One of the coolest parts about going to Kansas City for the weekend was that we got to begin our adoption process. We met at LDS family services to begin the paperwork for another adoption. We're hoping the process isn't too long and tedious. We'd really like our family to grow. So...if you're reading this, and you know of anyone who is considering placing their baby for adoption, please send them our way. We'd love to chat with them.

Two days after returning home from Kansas City, we found ourselves on the road to Denver to be with Kevin's sister, Denise for 4th of July. Knowing that Denver is where we want to settle when we exit the Air Force really made Denver feel like home. We had such a fun time. We cooked out on the barbeque, hung out and talked until late at night, played Guitar Hero on the Wii, played the piano, went to the movies, and all of the nieces and nephews beat up on Kevin. He brings it on himself. It's wierd that Kasen, our oldest nephew in that family, has bulked up to the point where he could seriously contend with Kevin in a wrestling match. The two of them had fun messing around. We had so much fun laughing and joking around. I really miss that family!

And now, we're back at TLF. Weslee and I went to the pool for the last time today. The smell of coconut sunblock is still in the air. I have a photoshoot in less than an hour, my last photoshoot of the trip (I've done 7 in total). My camera battery is charging over by the toaster. My clean laundry is begging to be folded and packed away into the suitcase for the last time. I'm beginning to make to-do lists of things that need to be done when I get home. We'll have our last game night tonight. Finger printing for our adoption process tomorrow morning and our last meeting with our adoption caseworker. By this time tomorrow, Kevin will be alone in this very room.

He won't have to worry about me stealing the covers at night, or Weslee waking up at 3 am thinking it's party time. He won't have to worry about the laundry basket overflowing or cereal pieces all over the floor. There will be no one to contend with for computer time. In short, as Kevin put it, it will be lonely.

I am so glad for this short trip back "home" with Kevin. So glad for the laughs, and the memories, and the sunshine, and the fun we've shared together. It has been the dose of medicine I needed. But Man! It's hard to leave "home" behind...because you see, "home" is always where Kevin is. Where he is is where I belong. So, here is wishing that "home" comes back to England very, VERY soon.

P.Y.O. Isleham

2009-06-13T16:16:00.001-07:00

So, we kept seeing these signs around town with a big strawberry on them. They said P.Y.O. Isleham. We asked around and found out that (duh!) it was a "Pick Your Own" Strawberry place. So, today we hopped in the car for a fun berry adventure. It wasn't really planned. In fact, I thought of it while I was showering this morning. I threw some clothes on, changed Weslee and we headed out the door before my hair had even dried.

We picked about 4 kilos (and no...I don't really know how much that is) of strawberries and spent the rest of the morning hulling and slicing them to make jam tomorrow (and to eat for the rest of the day). There is nothing more tasty than fresh picked strawberries. The store bought ones don't even compare!

Today while picking berries, I had all kinds of flash backs of working with my grandma in her garden and helping her pick blackberries. She's always telling a story about me picking blackberries and eating way more than I picked. They would tell me to "just pick the black ones" and to eat only "one at a time". Today, I found myself saying almost those very words. "Wes, just pick the red ones". "Eat that strawberry you've got in your hand before you pick another one". I have so many memories of watching Gram make jelly and jam and I realized today, that my son will have similar memories of me, endlessly stirring behind a very hot stove of wonderful fruit...and then eating it later on hot toast with butter.

I also have to say, I love his little dirty cherub face in these pictures too. Not only is he covered in sticky strawberry juice and dirt...but snot as well. England has been tough on this poor kid. I'm pretty sure he has some crazy allergies! Everything flowers like crazy here...and pollen is so thick in the air, it settles in a yellow dust on your car overnight. His nose is always running and he is forever sneezing. My little angel with a dirty face!

Oatmeal

2009-05-24T16:13:00.000-07:00

So, my mom just left from a fabulous visit. Well, it was fabulous for me, and she SWEARS it was fabulous for her...but she was sick the whole time. Throughout the night I could hear her coughing. I thought FOR SURE she'd lose a lung. But, she's back home safely in the USA with both of her lungs. Whew! (That was close).

Anyway, the very first thing she did when she got off the plane, after kissing Weslee mercilessly was hand him a hand-crafted, homemade-with-love little bunny that my sister in law made for him. Mom and I thought he should have a British name since we are having this fabulous UK adventure for the next few years. We called him "King Henry". We called him that for approximately 12 hours. But, Wes had his own ideas for this bunny's name. He named him "Oatmeal".

It's an appropriate name. He looks like oatmeal. Weslee likes oatmeal. So, it's a compliment to the bunny. Anyway, he loves sleeping with Oatmeal now along with "Sheepie" (his partner in crime and his best comforter) and Port-a-Peep, the smaller, more portable version of Sheepie.

Anyway, this is a shout out to Tessa, my very gifted Sister in Law. Thank you, thank you for the cute bunny. And to all of you who don't know Tessa, she makes the most awesome vintage stuff. Check her out at http://www.tessamariearanda.com/.

New House

2009-05-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

Nani sent a box of birthday gifts for you a few weeks back. This mammoth box almost killed me to lug to the car (and the whole while I was worried that you were running into oncoming traffic at the post office because I couldn't see a darn thing while carrying it). It wouldn't fit into the trunk. It barely fit into the backseat. It sat in the house, waiting for Nani's arrival and I tripped over it more times that I would like to admit. And then, you gave me a brilliant idea! You tried climbing into a very small box, but you wouldn't fit.

I immediately got to work on emptying the mammoth box and storing all of your gifts in the closet until Nani arrives. Then, we took a knife and some crayons to the box to make the MOST AWESOME HOUSE EVER! You love this thing. You sat in it reading books to "Sheepie" for over half an hour the first night we made it. Since then, you've pushed it down the stairs to sit in while you watch movies, and right now, it's outside where you had lunch. You and Sheepie have had alot of fun in your new little house.

Mayfair Date

2009-05-01T16:47:00.000-07:00

After my impromptu photo shoot today with one of my Young Women, Weslee and I hit the RAF Mildenhall Mayfair event. We made it a "date". Weslee loved it! He got to pet the owls from a local wildlife reserve and even ride the teacups (he chose the pink one). I was worried that he wouldn't stay on the teacups by himself, but he rode them the entire 5 minutes, twirling his cup around and around, shouting "WOW, Mom, WOW" the entire time. It was so fun to see his face each time he would pass me. He was spinning himself so quickly, it was hard to get a picture of his face at all. We had a fun time. I love going on "dates" with my little man!

You're Two...

2009-04-26T13:57:00.000-07:00

Weslee,
You're two. Where has the time gone? You've traded your cute little chipmunk cheeks from your first mortal days for the leaner look of your toddler years (though no matter how old or lean you get, I'll never, as long as I live, forget holding you in the hospital for the first time with only your cheeks poking out of the blankets, and falling in love with you instantly. ) You've kept the beautiful blue eyes I adore so much.

You bring joy to my life everyday. You are a wonder of a little boy. How I ever earned the privilege of being your mother, I'll never know...but you are one of a kind. You are my own personal angel. I couldn't ask for more from a son. I am so very proud of you.

Some of my favorite things about you at this age: You are so compassionate. If anyone is crying, or hurt, the concern shows in your eyes. If it happens to be me that is crying or hurt, you come and stand beside me, pat my back, and ask if I'm "doh-tay?" I love that you kiss owies, both mine and your own. You try to love and care for everyone you come in contact with. The nursery leaders have told me that you've been a real friend to those in nursery who are crying or hurt. I am so proud of you for being a good friend.

You are so independent. "My too" or "my turn" is something we hear alot around here. Thank heavens you want to do things on your own! I love watching you put your wellies on to go outside, struggling with everything you've got to get your little feet inside those rain boots. I love watching you "read" books to yourself and to me. You don't want to sit in the high chair anymore, but in the other "chai-oo" to eat your food with the rest of the family and drink out of a normal cup, not a sippy.

You are obedient. I rarely have to ask you to do something more than once. If I ask you to get in bed, please...you begin climbing into bed. If I tell you to hold my hand when crossing our street, you hold it up for me to reach. And, the latest in miracles, when I'm mowing our crazy lawn and leave the back gate open for a split second to get the mower where I need it to go, and I ask you to stay in the backyard because it's dangerous near the road. You stay right within the door frame and go no further. You poke your head out to see what's going on, but you never moved out of the backyard. I thought to myself, "This child is uncommonly obedient" and I was so thankful.

You are helpful. Mommy has such a big job to do right now. Holding down the fort while Daddy is gone is a big responsibility and I appreciate all of the help you give me every day. You unlock the door to the car each time we go somewhere. You like to help carry the groceries in from the grocery store. When you spill at the table, you often get down with a rag after the meal and help me clean up the mess. You pick up your toys, often without being told, every evening before bed. You put your dishes in the sink after the meal. And, you help me load the washer with our dirty clothes. You have no idea how much these small things really do help me. I appreciate all that you do to make mommy's burden lighter while Daddy is away. I love you for it!

You are imaginative. I love sneaking up on you while you're pretending. I caught you feeding "Sheepie" in the high chair the other day and asking him to help clean up the mess. (Your tone of voice sounded so much like me as you said "Uh oh, mahss. Keen up, keen up, sseepee!" and you pretended to wipe the tray.) I know that we probably shouldn't encourage the whole "gun" thing, but I love watching you pretend to shoot the bad guys and then "die" in the hallway. I know my laughter just encourages you...but it's dang funny!

You are smart. You have always picked up new things quickly. I am persuaded that you will do well in life at whatever you pursue simply because you grasp new concepts so rapidly. I love that you want to learn. You are inquisitive. All day long you'll ask "Dat?" meaning "What's that?" and I'll tell you, "That's a car-jack." or "That's a magnet." or "That's a microphone." and I'll hear you repeat the word to yourself. You always surprise me when a few weeks later you'll whip that word right out and use it in the right context. Today you could see your shadow at dinner (a word you learned 3 weeks ago on a walk) and you looked at me with a knowing look in your eye and simply said, "Dahdow, mama". I was shocked as I acknowledged you were right. Or today when we were watching a documentary on Joseph Smith and they showed the earth on the screen. First, you pointed out that it was a circle and then asked me "Dat?" I told you it was the earth and that yes, it was in-fact a circle. "Eawt". "Eawt." Eawt." I heard you say it over and over again while the earth remained on the screen. I will not be surprised if we see another "earth" in the near future and you pull that new word out of your bag of tricks.

You are a daily miracle to me, my boy. I hope I never forget to see you as the miracle that you are. I hope I don't ever let the little bumps in the road that happen from day to day get in the way of all of the incredible good that you do. I hope I always remind you, over and over again, that I love you. I hope I tell you of your incredible worth to our Father in Heaven enough times that you always believe it. I hope I nurture the gifts that are already in your possession and help you to become the man your Father in Heaven (and I) see in you. I hope I always treasure each day with you.

Because I know that the next time I blink, another year will have gone by. It won't be long before you fly the coup and I'll be missing the dirt smudges, the booger kisses, the little messes, and the mooshed bugs. I'll have a stain-free shirt, but I'll be missing your little fingers wrapped around my own. I'll look at those scribbles in my scriptures with fondness. I'll be longing for the sound of a sleeping baby on my chest. I'll miss your laughter ringing through the house. So, I hope I always remember to treasure those things while I have them. Happy Two Years, my big boy! Here's to another great one!

Tycle...

2009-04-08T05:35:00.001-07:00

Is there anything more endearing than hearing a toddler begin to use language? I am totally enamored with hearing Weslee's attempts to communicate his feelings, his wants and desires, and placing labels on everything that makes up his world. Some of his words are easy to recognize: mommy, daddy, hi, bye bye, and my personal favorite...Yyyyyep! Others are a little harder to make out. And some are impossible for me to understand. It's the ones that I understand but no one else does that just tug at my heart strings. I'll be so sad when he talks like a grown up and I don't hear words like "wuz zoo" (love you), "Deezus Cwyst" (Jesus Christ), "day too" (thank you), "a-mas" (airplane) and "tockolee" (chocolate) anymore.

Lately, one of his favorite words (because it is one of his favorite things) is "Tycle". This word, to Weslee, means motorcycle. There is a bouncy motorcycle at the park, and he runs for it shouting "tycle, tycle, tycle". He thinks his trike looks like a motorcycle (in fact, the reason we bought this particular trike is because when he saw it he started shouting "tycle. My tycle" in a very excited voice. We were there to buy a trike anyway. Thought it would be good to get one he was so excited about. And everytime a loud vehicle passes our window....sometimes even when Wes is completely asleep, I'll hear from some part of the house "Tycle. Mom! Wow! Tycle!"

So, even though I don't necessarily like "tycles" and even though I definitely don't listen for them all day, I love my son's enthusiasm. He teaches me everyday to enjoy life and be excited for the miracles (including the tycles) that are all around me.

My Heroes

2009-04-06T07:21:00.000-07:00

Life has been very good to me. It has presented me with several opportunities to rub shoulders with amazing people. Some of them came into my life for a short time and then left, probably never knowing how much they meant to me. Others have stuck around and have seen me evolve as a person. And, of course, some of them are sealed to me forever. But, I've had alot of time to think over the past week and inevitably, these people have come to mind. I wanted to take a little time and give a shout out to my heroes. (And this is by no means a comprehensive list...I'm just going to write until my arm gets tired or the boy wakes up...whichever happens first).

My first hero is my husband. He wouldn't consider himself a hero, that's part of his appeal. Full of conviction, brave enough to share that conviction, and lives according to that conviction. He is a man of integrity. I can always trust the things he tells me. In 1o years of knowing him, I have never caught him in a lie. Ever. He is genuine. He has never worried about what other people think about him. He never frets over impressing people. He is solely focused on what God thinks of him. (If I can pick up anything from him, this is the attribute I most want). And last, he genuinely cares about other people. Time and time again, I've watched him go out of his way to bless the lives of other people. I've watched him put aside his cares, his worries, his busy schedule to go and do whatever is needed of him...even here at home. I've seen him come home from work immediately to start the dishes, take Wes out to play so I can have a moment alone, or vacuum the floors...and I've never once heard him complain about it. He seems thrilled to help. (I realize that I am totally blessed in this regard). There are about a million more things I could put here...reasons that he's my very greatest hero of all. But I have other heroes too, and limited time to write.

My mother is one of my heroes. My mom defied her family to join a church that has brought a multitude of blessings into the lives of my family. Almost every good thing in my life I can trace to that decision of hers. My successes at school, in my career, the development of my talents, my beautiful eternal family, and my testimony of Jesus Christ. She is an independent thinker. I admire her bravery and even her stubbornness. My mother is stubborn in doing what is right. And last, I admire my mother's unsinkable optimism. She can see blessings in the bleakest of circumstances. Our house burns down when I'm in eighth grade and I hear her saying "We own our home outright now." No mention of it being a hopeless, burned out shell of a place. Just the blessing of owning it and not having to make any more payments on it. And then, she grabbed her tools along with my dad and went to rebuild the place. We find out a couple years later that we're moving to Argentina, away from everything we know, and the first thing out of my mom's mouth is "This is going to be an amazing adventure". No whining about missing family or friends, the absence of the comforts in the states we were used to, or any misgivings about misfortunes we might meet there. Just confidence and a shopping spree to buy a whole lot of peanut butter and taco seasoning. She packed our house up while my father was already gone and we were at school, and still managed to make it to the plane with a big grin on her face.

And then, there's my sister, Charla. Full of faith, that one! If I've ever met a rock, it's Charla. She gained a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ long before I did and held onto it with everything she's got. She was a missionary from the very beginning. Not afraid to open her mouth, she's still known for speaking out at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting in our high school as a FRESHMAN and submitting that Christ said to "Come follow me" not just to "Come believe in me". She admonished those who were upper classmen to show their faith in Christ by living by his teachings and following his example, not just professing a belief in Him. She's had many more opportunities to share the gospel since then, and she never fails to say exactly what is on her mind. She is a hard worker. She sets her sights on a goal and works until she obtains it. Whether she's running marathons, getting a teaching degree or learning to play the guitar, she doesn't get off of her course until she's obtained her goal.

My brother, Bubba. The most generous person I've ever met. He's been like this for as long as I can remember. He must have been 8 or so when my grandmother gave him some birthday money one year. He turned around and spent most of it on my sister and I. Even at 10 years old, I was floored that he would do something like that. He would give you the shirt off of his back...even if it's his favorite Abercrombie shirt. We're lucky to have him in our family...he's taught us alot.

Randy and Liesl Bailey. Not many people would allow almost complete strangers to come and live in their spare bedroom, but that's what these two did. More than generous, their friendship has taught us to share with all those we meet. They taught us that all of our substance belongs to the Lord and it's not ours to keep, only ours to give. They've touched our lives forever.

Tera Rocknak. With 5 children, I don't know how she finds the time to keep up with all of her friends. I always feel special around Tera...or even if we're countries apart. She emails, and updates, and sends Christmas cards. Tera has a special talent for brightening people's lives and getting them out of themselves to mingle with the world again. And then, she continues to be a ray of sunshine in their lives long after the darkness has passed.

Carol Hales. I count my lucky stars that she is my mother in law. Carol is blessed with the ability to see the good in everyone, and to forgive quickly when people show their not-so-great side. I love hearing her talk about the people she's meeting on her mission with Clint (my awesome father in law) and how beautiful they are, inside and out. I love hearing her "skewed" view of my own attributes in birthday cards and anniversary letters.

And of course, Clint Hales. Mr. friendly. Clint can't walk into a grocery store without coming out with a new friend. The man can talk to people after church almost as long as the church meetings themselves take. He always makes you feel like what you have to say is important. No matter the topic, he's always interested. People like that are rare...and I've found out from watching Clint...people like that have ALOT of friends. We can barely go anywhere without people knowing Clint.

Sarah Egbert. My cousin in law. We've only spent a couple of days here and there in eachother's presence, but she is one of my heroes. She knows how to love others. Her heart is big enough for the whole world to fit into. She has a heart of gold. Even when we're playing games or wave surfing at the beach, I feel like I'm in a warm embrace when I'm around her. Being her friend is uplifting. Always.

Vicki Wilkins. My hero because of her ability to mother. As our current bishop's wife, she personally mothers 9 children...who are all wonderful and love eachother and are well behaved, etc. etc. I have learned to be soft spoken from her. I have learned to pray for a house free of contention. I have learned to teach Weslee to love from my own actions. She also extends that mothering to all of us who are here without a mom. She is wonderful.

Allison Stokes. One word. Thoughtful. I get the privilege of serving with her in Young Women's. She is always thinking of others, how to lift them, serve them, make them feel special. I was just the recipient of her thoughtfulness. The flowers are still in my window and bring a smile to my face every time I see them.

Kris Cassat. She's a natural leader. I enjoy working under her in Young Women's. She knows how to motivate and inspire people to do their best. Never overbearing, but always interested in what's going on. I love this woman!

Well, the kid's awake and there are about a million people I could still list here for various reasons. If you don't see your name on the page, know that your name is in my heart. I am who I am today because of all of the people who have touched my life.

Daddy Home?

2009-04-01T00:38:00.000-07:00

The old saying goes, "You never know what you've got until it's gone". This is certainly true with my little Weslee. Just last weekend, we came to get Weslee from our friend's house after a day trip in London alone...and Weslee totally bypassed Kevin to run into my arms. I think in that moment, Kevin thought Weslee would never miss him when he was gone.

But, the last few days have proven otherwise. The day we said goodbye to Kevin, Weslee seemed much the same. He's used to being alone at home with me all day. But, when the sky started getting dark, and especially when I announced that I would make dinner, Weslee began the arduous search for "Daddy". He went upstairs, expecting that perhaps he had snuck through the door when he wasn't looking and was lurking in our room somewhere, or was perhaps on the computer. He went from room to room calling, "Daddy? Daaaaaaaaaddy!" When he finally decided that Kevin was nowhere in the house, he came to me, put his arms around my legs and looked up with a huge question mark in his eyes. "Daddy?" It was up to me to try to explain that Daddy was gone to work for a very long time.

This morning we woke very early (7:30 am is the crack of dawn in this house). Weslee was crying hysterically in bed. I laid him against my chest. When he finally calmed down enough to speak, he looked up at me with huge tears still in his eyes asked "Daddy Home?" I shook my head no, that Daddy wasn't home. I explained again that Daddy was at work for a very long time. He put his head on my chest and wrapped his little arms around my neck as tight as he could get them. For the next few minutes I heard him whisper, "Daddy home....daddy....my daddy home", into my shirt.

Oh Kevin, I wish you could see just how much you are loved...just how much you are necessary to both of our lives. It would both swell your heart with joy and break it into tiny pieces.

Goodbye

2009-03-31T16:36:00.000-07:00

Goodbye comes to our household more than I would like, and it always takes with it my handsome husband. It takes with it my security at night...strange sounds always sound scarier when you realize that YOU'RE the one who has to protect the family if anyone breaks in. Goodbye takes with it my desire to cook big meals (and Wes and I live for months on tacos, sandwiches, salads, yogurt, cereal and fruit) because Kevin's not there to ooh and aah over my latest culinary experiment, and Wes mostly throws it on the floor. Goodbye steals the warmth from the sheets at night and I always wake up cold. Goodbye brings tears to my eyes when I'm in the privacy of my own home and a "brave" smiling face when I'm not. Goodbye brings a flurry of activity and service projects to keep my mind occupied. It steals away late night conversation and cuddling.

Goodbye does give sometimes too. Goodbye lessens my ice-cream cravings (I only eat the stuff when Kevin is home). It cuts the laundry by a third. Goodbye gives me the car to drive around and see the countryside at will. Goodbye gives me stacks and stacks of wonderful email to read from my beloved (this is the very best part). Goodbye gives me strength (what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?). Goodbye makes me rely on God more than I ever would otherwise. Goodbye makes me patient.

Goodbye. An enemy and a friend. Dreaded, yet necessary. Goodbye, my offering to my country, unwillingly, but resignedly. Goodbye, my husband, my truest friend, I love you and I'll see you again.

London Shows

2009-03-29T15:42:00.001-07:00

Ireland- March 3-7, 2009

2009-03-29T15:41:00.000-07:00

Ireland. The Emerald Isle. This is a place we've both wanted to visit since, well, we've seen Tom Cruise fall in love with Nicole Kidman in Far and Away. Teri discovered that some of her family originated from Ireland and it added fuel to the fire. We booked our tickets, made reservations at a condo near Limerick and headed out to greener pastures...literally. I've never seen so much green in my life...and it was still technically winter in Ireland. In fact, our first day there, it snowed!

Kevin gave Wes and I the window seat, as usual. I've tried to let him sit there, but he never takes me up on my offer. Our first visions of Ireland were minutes before the plane landed. We decended through a thick grey cloud and suddenly, laid out before us was a vast patch-work of beautiful green land. We landed at Shannon and acquired our rental car...a tiny bug of an automobile (and boy, were we glad it was small on THESE roads!) and headed for our condo in Bodyke...a small golfing town in County Clare. I was smart enough this time to get an automatic, but it was still a harrowing experience sometimes. In Ireland, ancient stone walls line every road on the west coast. The vegetation then has covered these stone walls. So, it looks as though you are driving through cliffs of vegetation with zero mess-up room on either side. It was terrifying at first to be the passenger and see this 5-7 foot wall of green whizzing past your window, inches from the side-view mirrors. Kevin navigated the roads very well again...but agreed to drive on our next family adventure.

Since it was snowing when we got there, and since we were expecting our friends to arrive a little later in the after noon, we spent our first day, Tuesday, driving around the immediate area looking for a grocery store and an ATM. We found both of these just 10 minutes from the condo. We also found a yummy kebab shop that we visited a few times later in the week. After grabbing groceries, we headed back to the condo to start dinner for our travel weary friends. We ate and enjoyed...but we all went to bed early tonight. It was freezing and we were all tired.

Day 2 took us to the Cliffs of Moher. One of my favorite things to see. 200 feet of sheer rocky drop off into the Atlantic ocean. It was snowing at the condo, raining when we got to the Cliffs, and freezing cold in both places. The kids' lips started turning blue just minutes after starting the stroll along the tops of the cliffs. Wes's teeth chattered and his eyes watered the entire time. We kept trying to block the wind, but to no avail. If it were a sunny day, it would have been a lovely place to spend the day, have a picnic, and let the kids run around. As it was though, we had to turn in early to keep everyone from getting frost bite. So, instead we just ended up with a minor case of wind burn.

The rest of the day was spent driving around. We tried to see the small town of Doolin and catch some traditional Celtic music. Umm...that didn't start until 9pm. A no go with small children. Then, we wanted to know if we could catch a ferry to the Aran Islands. Um, they don't run the ferries until after Easter. The sea is too stormy. Then, our friend Shawn picked out a site in the Burren, Polnabronne, a 5,000 year old portal tomb in the middle of nowhere and we decided to go see it.

When we pulled up, after winding through some of the most barren (and might I say ugly???) landscape I've ever seen on some of the craziest roads I've ever driven, Shawn jumps out to look at the little leaning rock pile and says "Is this it???". He promptly hopped back in the car without so much as coming and taking a picture. His wife, Kim came with us to check it out. It was a pile of rocks. We read the signs about its history, and still weren't overly impressed. We snapped some shots, but ultimately, we were glad to head home.

Tonight we played games, ate Chicken Tikka Masala and had a good time. I was a wimp and went to bed at eleven. Everyone else was up way later.

The next morning, we split up. Kevin, Weslee and I went to the Eastern side of Ireland to see Bru na Boinne, another very old prehistoric tomb. It was ALOT cooler than the one the day before. We were glad we went. And, we got to tour a museum about the prehistoric peoples that dwelt in Ireland...how they lived, ate, worshipped. It was fascinating. Each year at the winter solstice, the sun shines through the portal of the tomb and lights the place up. Each year, hundreds of people put their names in a lottery hoping to be chosen to see the lighting of the tomb. We put our names in the hat...we'll see what happens. It would be cool to see, and it would be nice to get to see Dublin or some more of the East coast the next time. As it was, we spent too much time at the tombs to really see much of anything else.

On our way home, we stopped by Trim Castle. We stopped there mainly because of our good friend Elder Trim. We wanted to take some pictures for him and show him how important he was. :) A beautiful ruin of a castle, surrounded by a moat, I walked around it for over an hour taking pictures. On the hill top, where the ruin of the abbey was situated, you could see the entire town, the entire castle, and the rain rolling in in the distance. It was a lovely place to sit and think (which several University students were taking advantage of) or stroll with your dog or loved one or both. A peaceful place. But, as we learned more about the castle, it was anything but a peaceful place in its heyday. Trim was the stronghold of the Normans. It was meant to protect the Normans from the fierce Gaelic people. It was made large and imposing to intimidate the Gaelics...but it didn't stop frequent attacks. Because Trim was a center of trade, the Gaelics often attacked the surrounding people. I'm sure people weren't strolling around the castle with their dogs during those days.

Day 4 was my favorite day of all. We headed south in the rain to visit Blarney Castle and kiss the Blarney stone. Today had special importance for me because of who had built the castle. The Mac Arthur clan built the castle to control the southern portion of Ireland. My ancestors, the O'Sullivans were Lords of Beare and Bantry under the Mac Arthurs. They would have come to this castle to discuss wars, lands, and other governing issues with their king. I could imagine my ancestors in the great dining hall talking with other lords and ladies, in the guest quarters, and in the nasty indoor toilets doing their business (gross, I know)...especially when you realize that their "business" rolled down the side of the castle onto the ground below. As Wes would say...."Ewwwwwww". We climbed to the very top of the castle and hung upside down to press our lips to the famous Stone of Eloquence. I had great hopes for myself after kissing the Blarney Stone...but I will say, to the disappointment of many, it didn't improve the eloquence of either Kevin or I. Just minutes after kissing it, we were still our same sarcastic selves.

We spent some time roaming around the gardens, imagining what they will look like in the spring. The trees and shrubs were just starting to show signs of life, but it would be many more weeks before the full beauty of the place is known.

We spent the last of our day driving through Killarney National Park. I SO WISH it hadn't been so grey and cloudy today. The visibility was poor, but what we saw of the park was gorgeous. We went home to console ourselves with several hours of board games and fun with our friends, the Hatches.

The next morning, we got up and checked out of the condo and went our separate ways again. Our family headed to County Tipperary to see the Rock of Cashel, a medieval fortress/church set up on a hill. Weslee loved our visit to this place because he got to run around amongst the ancient tombs and crosses. Kevin chased him all over the place, threw him in the air, tickled him to death...and in general, made Weslee's day. I had a WONDERFUL time taking pictures. What a beautiful place. Black birds were swooping all over the place and flying around like a storm cloud above the church and tower.

We headed next to the 1848 Wartime Famine Museum. It was out in the middle of nowhere. We mostly went to learn more about the famine. It talked a great deal about the rebellions in Ireland that were exacerbated by the famine that brought thousands of Irish immigrants to the United States and elsewhere. I can't imagine living in such circumstances. We found out that while the potato blight hit all of Europe, the Irish were the only ones who faced a famine, because they were the only ones who's primary food source was potatoes...not wheat or corn. We also found out that during the famine, Ireland was still exporting millions of pounds of corn. There was enough food for all of Ireland's people...the gentry just prefered to line their pockets with gold instead of look out for the poor. It was a sad tale of the natural man overrulling the commandments of God.

After the museum, we went to Limmerick for dinner. We had hoped to eat in a pub...but apparently, the pubs in Limmerick are more like an American bar and less like an English pub where families are welcome and good, cheap food is served. The only family pub we found cooked American cuisine and charged an arm and a leg. We decided we'd rather have kabobs and ended our Irish experience. We headed to the airport to await our plane back home.

Our favorite things about Ireland: THE PEOPLE. Some of the friendliest people we've ever met live in Ireland. They mill about the towns in large crowds, talking loudly and smiling broadly. They are helpful, and not at all reserved and stuffy like the British. We also really enjoyed the roads. They were scary at times, but totally unique to Ireland. The rock walls and greenery hugging the pavement as it whizzes past your car were a sight to behold. And last, the company. The best decision we ever made was to make this trip with friends. We enjoyed seeing the sights with the Hatch's and playing board games until the late hours of the night.

Pisa, Italy- February 7, 2009

2009-02-09T06:46:00.003-08:00

We awoke to a gorgeous, sunny day...our last day in Italy. We loaded the car and got ready to check out around 10 am. The check out was an omen of things to come today. The landlord we had talked to on Tuesday, Frederico, was gone already and his mother checked us out. We were charged WAY too much for gas and electricity usage and then charged an unexpected cleaning fee on top of it all. It was still a good deal for the condo, but it left a bad taste in both of our mouths. And, it was hard to argue with someone who barely spoke English. We paid, and left somewhat frustrated.

On our way out, Kevin stopped at a cemetary I had often looked at on our way to Florence. It looked like something out of Romeo and Juliet to me. The grounds were covered in white marble crosses. It was beautiful. I took alot of pictures while Kevin and Weslee waited in the car.

We decided to head to Pisa and see the leaning tower before we had to return the car and catch our flight home. We got to Pisa and got lost. We had a hard time finding parking, and all the while, the sky was starting to darken. Rain was once again threatening our sight-seeing. We finally found a place to park and headed up to the ticket counter. Weslee wasn't allowed at the top of the tower, so we took turns hiking up to the very top.

Kevin had me go first so that I could get shots of the city and cathedral before the rain clouds moved in. It was so cool to look down so far and see Weslee chasing the pigeons down the sidewalk. Kevin had me wave from the top so that he could catch me on video. The coolest part about climbing up the tower was that it felt almost like you were going down-hill on the side where it was leaning, and then it felt like a very steep hike on the side that was tilted up. It had a sense of vertigo about the whole thing. The marble steps were heavily grooved and if you didn't watch where you were going, with the vertigo and everything, it was easy to slip and fall.

When I got to the top, I leaned against the railing (I'm still a little afraid of heights, and my stomach was turning flips) and watched all of the tourists below taking pictures on the lawn, pretending to "hold up" the leaning tower. Vendors were crowding the streets selling pizza and other snacks, pictures, souvenirs, and umbrellas. And all the while, the baptistry and cathedral stood like white giants looming out of the very green grass below. The wind wildly whipped my hair into my eyes and mouth. It was exhilarating.

I got to stay on the top for half an hour before it was Kevin's turn. Kevin handed Weslee to me, and he made the hike up. While he was up there, it began to sprinkle. Weslee LOVED it. He ran around, jumping in mud puddles, and splashing after the birds. By the time Kevin came down, Weslee was wet to his knees, but very, very happy.

At this point, we decided that we'd tour the cathedral. While we were inside, it began pouring rain. Our time was almost up on our parking meter, and we had no other choice but to run out into it. We were drenched again, by the time we made it to our car.

Tom-Tom still wasn't working. The narrow streets weren't allowing the satelites to pin-point our location. We guessed our way out of there...and luckily made good choices. But, we had a bigger problem on our hand. Italian siesta had closed every gas station between the leaning tower of Pisa and the airport. We were at a quarter tank and were supposed to turn the car in full. Apparently, the Italians have never heard of "pay at the pump". We finally decided to just take the car back and pay for it (and oh, did we ever pay for it) there.

By the time we got to the airport, we were wet, tired, and feeling irritated with the financial dealings of the day. We felt swindled. But, there was more yet to bear. The lady at the check-in counter...we'll call her "Nazi Lady", informed us that our carry-on bags were too heavy and would have to be checked in. Both of our bags were over the weight limit by a couple of pounds. We tried to rearrange, but their policy wouldn't let us...and there was a long line of weary travellers behind us. It wouldn't have been so bad if they didn't decide to rip you off if you have to check a bag. It cost us about $60 to check those extra 4 pounds of stuff in. Yikes. And, to top it all off...she was so pushy, we forgot Weslee's diapers and wipes in the carryon. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to remember my wallet and passports.

As we angrily stepped away from the counter, and through the security check-out, I remember Kevin saying, "Hope Weslee doesn't go poop". Less than an hour later, I was trying to salvage a diaper in the women's room. Still steaming that Nazi lady wouldn't let us get the things we needed most, I tried to clean the diaper as best I could (it wasn't too bad, actually...but it seemed horrendous at the time) and put it back on Wes. We got on the plane without speaking much and Nazi lady took our tickets, making my blood boil all over again.

Once we settled into our chair, it wasn't so bad. In fact, I was able to laugh about everything that had happened. We joked with some of the other passengers on the plane that perhaps Ryan Air wasn't such a good deal after all, and that paying a little extra for another airline might make up for the inconvenience and lack of customer service on this airline. We all chuckled for a little while.

When we landed, I can honestly say I was ready to be home. At the time, I really wasn't missing Italy at all. Maybe that's why it's taken me so long to write this blog update. I didn't come home "glowing" from my experience, even though the experience as a whole was wonderful. I came home feeling swindled and angry. I came home never wanting to return. How silly is that?

Now, with a few weeks between me and Nazi lady and Federico's mother...I can look back and feel blessed. I can look back and love the olive groves and grape vines again. I can think of the wonderful food and the amazing architecture. I can think of sitting snuggled under the blankets in our condo with Kevin at my side, reading good books, eating strawberry gelato, and hearing the frogs croak outside. I can think of how the sun made the hills sparkle with magic. And, the parts that didn't go so well have turned into part of the adventure, part of the story-telling, part of the fun of our journey.

Venice, Italy- February 6, 2009

2009-02-09T06:46:00.001-08:00

We woke up early this morning to make the 3 hour drive to Venice. We decided that if we ever came back to Italy, we likely wouldn't be any closer to Venice than we were this trip...and if we never came back, we would be sad to miss seeing such a unique city. So, we made today a road trip day.

We packed what few snacks we had with us into the car, strapped Weslee in and headed off on our next wild adventure. This is where we got our first understanding of how crazy Italian drivers really are. When you go to any European city, you expect mayhem. For instance, the drivers in London would as soon run you over as yield for a pedestrian. Their line of thinking seems to be something like this. "My car is not very big, but it's bigger than you...and if you want to play chicken, be my guest. But, I'm encased in metal, and you are nothing but flesh and bones. So, if you don't want to be a greasy smear on the pavement, you'd better move out of my way." (Like I said, it's a loose translation. The way they'd say it in British English is rather unintelligible, so I have to make up words to go along with their actions. This, to me, is what their actions are saying.) But, the actions in any European city speak the same thing. It's a "get what I can, while I can get it" type of an attitude when European city dwellers are in their cars.

This is particularly true for Italians. As you approach a red traffic light, there may be three lanes painted onto the pavement, but that doesn't mean that just three cars should line up there in neat little lines. Oh no! Let's all cram up to the white line and have 9 cars revving their little engines, daring to be first. And, let's throw in a couple of scooters in between them all. When the light turns green, everyone floors it...whether you're in the front of the line or the back of the line. You hit the gas with everything you've got and pray that the person in front of you moves fast enough. The cars weave in and out of the painted lines and the whole time, you feel as if you're cheating death. It's a wonder anyone is still alive in Italy. That's all I can say. One of our friends, Dave Cassat, who served a mission in Italy told us that traffic rules in Italy are more like suggestions, not finite regulations that are enforced.

So, like I said, we were expecting craziness in the city, but we were not prepared for it to continue on the highways, where there was little, if any, traffic. We noticed that the Italian drivers would weave all over the road, like drunkards, with little regard for any cars that might be around them. There were several times that we'd be driving in the left lane and the car in the right lane would drift over the line toward us and then slowly drift back into their own lane. It was crazy. There was no "safe" place.

Anyway, around noon, we finally made it to Venice. We crossed over a long bridge to the island where we abruptly had to choose from 2 different parking garages. You see, in Venice, there are no cars...just boats. You park your car right when you get there, and you either walk or you ride a boat to wherever else in Venice you'd like to go. We were headed to a restaurant I had researched on the internet, Taverna San Trovaso, but we had no idea where to look for it. We just knew it was in the "Dorsoduro" part of the city.

Finally, Kevin was able to make sense of our map and we began our slow trek across the maze of canals, bridges and narrow walkways. I have never seen anything quite like Venice. The water was an amazing turquoise color, ebbing and flowing between ancient buildings that looked like they rose from the depths. In front of the homes, motor boats were tied to their moorings and secured with tarps so the rain couldn't get it.

When we arrived, it was cloudy, but the rain hadn't started yet. The sky threatened, but we came with an umbrella and weren't too worried. We finally found our way to the restaurant and had a pretty good meal. Kevin enjoyed his lasagna, but I wasn't too impressed with my pasta. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't spectacular. We were some of the last customers to exit before siesta began.

After dinner, we roamed around for a while. We didn't come to Venice with any specific plans. We just wanted to see the city, more than anything. I stopped often for pictures of the canals. We passed a little bakery on our way to San Marcos Square. I bought a few little tarts and chocolate pastries. We ate them while we walked.

When we got to San Marcos Square, about a half hour's walk from our car, it began to rain steadily. Weslee held the umbrella over his head and Kevin and I were left to the elements. We found shelter under the various shops. By the time we reached San Marcos Square, it was getting late. Weslee was tired. We were sopping wet. We decided to head back to the car, walking a different way.

We saw so many high end shops and jewelry stores. Italian leather and silk was everywhere. As beautiful as it was, it just wasn't my kind of atmosphere. I'm not a "high-end" person. I never have been. I felt somewhat out of place.

By the time we got to our car, nearly an hour later, we were drenched. Weslee was exhausted. We had lost our way in the maze of buildings several times. It felt so good to get out of our jackets and warm ourselves in front of the heating vents. Weslee fell asleep, and we ate the remainder of the tarts. Kevin braved the crazy drivers for another 3 hours, even though he was exhausted too. We swung by the Gelateria dei Neri in Florence on our way home for some blackberry and strawberry gelato and headed to our comfy condo for our last night's sleep in Italy.

Florence, Italy- February 3-5, 2009

2009-02-09T06:45:00.004-08:00

This was the trip I have looked forward to the most since we moved to England. I have always wanted to go to Italy...and more particularly, I've always wanted to go to Tuscany. To me, Tuscany is the seat of good art, good food and beautiful countryside. The rustic villas I saw on television always drew my heart away to Italy. The rolling hills covered in grape vines and olive trees...the brightly colored, tiled roofed houses that dotted the countryside like flowers. Ahhh...to escape to Tuscany and bask in the sun. That was my idea of a dream vacation. And honestly, I wasn't disappointed. True, it rained every day that we were there...but it a strange sort of way, it added to the immense beauty. At the end of the day, the bright sun would break through the clouds and the wet foliage would seem that much more magical, the city of Florence, that much more majestic.

We arrived on my birthday in the Pisa Airport, rented a little dinky European car (manual...it was all they offered), strapped Weslee in and away we went. We were all hungry, tired and thirsty. We had gotten up at 4:30 am to get ready and catch our plane on time in London. We had barely eated breakfast. We packed so lightly we forgot to bring many snacks. We were so thirsty. We could hardly wait to get to our condo in Scandicci, just outside of Florence.

We arrived at our very charming Italian villa around 2:30 in the afternoon. The drive through the countryside, winding through the mountains had been breathtaking. My expectations for beauty had already been met. At every corner, I was amazed by the expanse of vineyards and the quaint villas on the rustic hills. The rain drizzled down steadily, but the sun would peek through the clouds every now and then, touching the scenery in magic. After a little searching, we found our condo. We parked under an olive tree and headed through the wrough iron gate.

Our very VERY energetic host brought us up to his condo to settle the room. He talked about a million miles an hour and his mannerisms seemed almost pushy to me. I found out later, that's just being an Italian. They are very friendly, very helpful, and very much "in your face". They want you to be comfortable in their home. When I hung back waiting to be invited to sit down, he was all loud, "Oh come, you sit. You sit here." In my face now, "You sit". Obviously, I sat. Weslee was pattering all over his apartment, trying to get into everything...his musical instruments, his art. I was obviously distracted and trying to keep an eye on him, as was Kevin. "You no worry. He is OK." We couldn't help it, we worried.

He showed us to our room. It wasn't lavish, but it felt authentic. The rooms had a rustic feel about them as if we were really living in the Tuscan countryside. It added to the experience, even if it wasn't completely convenient.

At this point, our stomachs we protesting LOUDLY. We asked about nearby restaurants. We were told that we were "in the countryside. The restaurants generally aren't open on Mondays and Tuesdays". I found myself thinking "Well duh...anyone would know that! Why would anyone want to eat out on a Monday or Tuesday!" But, he gave us directions to a pizza restaurant that "might" be open closer to Florence and a supermarket as well.

When we got to the pizza restaurant, we found it closed. We had assumed that Italy would work like England and the rest of Europe...meaning, you need to get food before 6pm because everything closes at that time. WRONG! Italians take a siesta. That means that the entire country shuts down from 2pm to 5pm. Restaurant employees return to work at 6pm and the place doesn't officially open up until 7pm. Then, they serve food until 2am. We were standing, starving, in front of the restaurant at 5pm...2 more hours to wait. We couldn't do it. We decided to take our chances in the dinky supermarket.

After roaming around confused for an hour or so, we finally decided on some chocolate flavored cereal, milk and fruit for breakfast the next day. We put a few different breads in the cart. I got a couple of packages of what looked like lunch meat (but I honestly couldn't tell if it was cooked or not, and I was nervous beyond reason) and some provolone cheese with a rind on it. And, then we bought some fresh vegetables (onions, zucchini and bell peppers) and a package of something that looked like chicken and sausage from the butcher and headed home.

We cracked into the bread while I was cooking. I literally mean we "cracked" into it. It was hard as a rock and had NO FLAVOR whatsoever. We were starving and it still wasn't very appetizing. We found out that many Tuscan breads are made this way...hard and lacking flavor. Who knew that the hailed capital of Italian cuisine would be so clueless about bread? I got to work immediately with my cooking experiment for dinner. I sauteed the veggies and meat together and grilled thin slices of bread with provolone cheese on them for dinner. To be honest, it was delicious. I don't know if it was because we were starving or because it really was that good. But, man! It hit the spot. I even took pictures of the whole ordeal, it was so tasty. We went to bed early, exhausted, but finally, our stomachs were satisfied.

On Wednesday, we woke early and headed to Florence. We finally found a place to park (though we had no idea where we were in relation to the things we wanted to see). On our way to the city, we stumbled across a large car park overlooking the city (because we made a wrong turn...stupid Tom-Tom) that became a favorite place for us for pictures. We went to this overlook every day that we were in Florence for pictures. The city changed moods every time we came. We were so glad to have our dinky Italian car at the car park because the parking spots were made for toy cars, not real ones...and if we had been in our Stratus, we would have never fit. But, we fit, with room to spare. We threw Wes into the stroller (which was pink and purple, because we forgot his stroller and our friend, who only has girls, loaned us theirs at the airport when he dropped us off. We got so many ODD looks from people as we wheeled Weslee, our strapping young boy, around in a girl's flowery stroller. So embarrassing.) and headed off to the city. Just walking among the buildings was an experience. I've never been any place quite like it. Small, tight alleyways actually lent charm to the place, and craziness to the already crazy traffic. It was charming.

We found a map and figured out where to go. We headed first to the Piazza del Signoria and saw the Fountain of Neptune, the replica of the Statue of David, the Palazzo Vecchio, and alot of other art. This is where Kevin first realized he was going to be seeing alot of nude people. We had someone take our picture at the fountain of Neptune, and I cracked up when I got my camera back and looked at the pictures. In the picture, Weslee, Kevin and I are all cozy, looking like a happy family...and then up in the right hand corner of the frame is the giant reproductive part of Neptune himself. Hello! We walked around and looked at some of the other statues. Almost all portrayed some scene from a war...but apparently, back in the old Roman and Greek days...everyone liked to fight in the buff. I thought, for some reason, of the Lamanites...and I wondered what all of these nude people (who remembered to wear their helmets at least) would have done if they had met with Captain Moroni's army? Hmmm...it makes you wonder.

Anyway, we headed from there to the Piazza del la Republica to see the government buildings and the exact center of Florence. Usually there are artists there in the square painting...but it must have been too cold and rainy that day for artists. So, we moved on.

Next, we headed to the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral (or the Duomo, as it's known in Florence). It was gorgeous. Carved out of white, pink and green marble, the massive structure with its brick dome rose like a giant out of the other clustered buildings. This was our main objective for today, and it turned out to be our favorite experience from Florence. We first went in to tour the cathedral. It housed works by Michelangelo, Dante and Donatello. We listened to an audio tour of the place. Mostly though, we just took in the immense space. There were hardly any pews or chairs in the chapel and we wondered if they set up chairs or if people stood during mass. We never did figure it out. The main attraction indoors was the cupola. The large domed ceiling was covered by a painting depicting the last Judgement begun by Vasari in 1572 and completed by Zuccaro. It was breathtaking, mainly because I couldn't imagine being up that high, for so long to paint something so detailed. It would have frightened me to death.

The highlight, however, was climbing to the top of the Duomo. Kevin (who was hefting a 30 pound child the whole way...my hero!) and I hiked the almost 500 steps to the top of the dome, getting a better glimpse at the fresco inside the dome, the structure of how it was built (out of bricks...seriously, this thing must weigh a TON), and got an amazing view from the very top of the building of the whole city. We were breathing heavy when we reached the top, but it was so worth it to see the patchwork of buildings that made up Florence, the Tuscan hills surrounding the city...just beautiful.

While we were up there, we ran into a group from Brazil, and Kevin enjoyed brushing up on his Portuguese as well. Weslee spent his time flirting with the Brazilian girls who kept taking pictures of him and exclaiming every other word, "Que lindo" (how cute).

After all of that exercise, all of us were hungry and tired, and it was getting close to siesta time. We went to a place called the "Yellow bar" for pizza, calzones, and pasta. Kevin ordered some pizza with purple onion and sausage. It didn't turn out quite the way either of us had pictured. They didn't mix any of the ingredients. There were a couple of wedges of pizza that had cheese and only onions. A couple with cheese and only sausage. And a couple with cheese and only peppers. It was a strange pizza indeed...especially the onion slices. Gross. I ordered a cheese and ham calzone, which I thought was SO DELICIOUS. We also got some Spaghetti Carbonara. The waitress looked at us kind of strange when she came back and all of the plates were clear. Crazy Americans! We eat way too much. Oh well.

Our eating wasn't finished either. I had researched gelaterias before going to Italy, and I had the address of the best ice-cream shop in Florence...Gelateria dei Neri. We headed there before heading home. We come vanilla and strawberry gelato...and fell in love with Italian gelato. We went to this gelateria every night we were in Tuscany. It was so good. We tried Mango (not so great), White Chocolate (which was pretty good, except neither of us really like white chocolate), and blackberry, which was amazing.

On our way to the car, we crossed over the Ponte Vecchio bridge, a bridge with lots of shops and apartments that is a symbol of Florence. We decided it was too many jewelry shops all in one place. We wondered how they all stayed in business.

We came home very happy with all we had accomplished. We put Weslee to bed and settled onto the couch, under the heater to read our books. Kevin was reading the Borne Identity, and I was reading the Twilight series. I was hooked, I tell you. Who knew I could be hooked to a series about high school aged vampires?

The next day, we took a different approach. We spent the morning hours driving around the Tuscan countryside. We took in the views and enjoyed the amazing scenery. This was actually Kevin indulging me. Every time we saw something amazing, he'd pull over and let me snap a picture of it. It was still a a little misty in the morning, but it was a gorgeous day, nonetheless. I took so many pictures.

We got out and walked a little through the olive groves and enjoyed the wet morning. But, by the time we reached home again, Weslee was tired and ready for a nap. We let him sleep while we read a little more from our books. We had sandwiches for lunch and just lounged until after the siesta hours. And then, we headed into Florence to experience it at night.

We went to Le Campiano pizza restaurant around 8pm. We both ordered pizza. Kevin still wasn't impressed with their thin crust variations on pizza, but at least the toppings were all mixed together. I loved my pizza...but then, I like thin crust. Mine had 3 different cheeses, fresh basil, roasted tomatoes and eggplant. It really was divine. I could live in Tuscany and eat like the Italians do. Everything except their nasty bread, that is. And then, of course, we had to go get some more gelato. After dinner, we headed up to the parking lot again that overlooked the city. I took some night time pictures of the place. We would have done more, but poor Weslee was conked out in the back seat again, and we decided to head home.

All in all, it was a lovely time in Florence. We didn't see everything. I don't think 2 days is really enough time to experience a city like this. Especially as parents of a young child, we didn't really expect to experience all of Florence. We didn't see as many art galleries as we had planned...but we did experience the art...just mostly out in the plazas where Weslee could run around and chase pigeons while we did it. We're finally learning to plan our trips, not like single or newly married people would do...but like parents would do...taking ample time to linger, stretch, walk and enjoy the simpler pleasures of the places we visit.

The trip home from Germany, January 24, 2009

2009-02-09T06:45:00.003-08:00

We woke early with a 6 pm ferry to catch from Dunquerque, France to Dover, England...and about 12 hours of driving between us and home. It had been a good week, but we were ready to be home again. We reluctantly crawled into the car around 8am. When we started driving, the valley was just barely waking. Bakeries were lit inside, but the doors were still locked shut. The sun was just peeking over the rocky tops of the Alps. The cool blue morning enveloped us. We drove reluctantly away, stopping for a few last pictures of the mountains that had welcomed us so eagerly a few days earlier.

On our way home, we had a few adventures. We stopped in Brussels for a gas and restroom break. As I approached the restroom, a lady sat at a little table with a sign that clearly stated you had to pay 30 euro cent to use the restroom. I had about 50 euro cent left from our trip. It was a good thing that Kevin and I didn't both need to go. I couldn't believe that they actually CHARGED you to relieve yourself. It made our previous stop make a little more sense.

We stopped at a "rest area" about an hour before the gas station to rearrange the car (we had packed rather hastily) and put gas from our gas can in the trunk in the car. When we pulled up, it looked like a regular rest stop...except for one major difference. No potty. We saw a guy head out of the bushes zipping up his pants. While we were stopped, we decided to let Weslee get out and stretch his legs. It was while he was running up and down the sidewalk that I noticed that there was wet toilet paper strewn all over the grass. I even saw a large piece of human excrement in the grass. Suddenly, I became overvigilant with Wes. I think it's the only time I've ever had to tell him to stay off the grass because it was "yucky". He kept wanting to pick up leaves and grass. The whole time I was freaking out because I didn't know if it had been peed on or not. I sanitized both of our hands like crazy when we got back into the car. It was disgusting! People come and pee there all day long (like 5 or 6 guys came and went while we were parked there). And at night, no one bothers to head to the bushes. They just let it all hang out, in and around the park benches. Nasty-rific!

Anyway, we made our ferry, had a great journey. I even prepared most of my sacrament meeting talk for the next morning. We were so glad to be home.

Oh...and about the sign pictured above. This is the German word for "exit". Being the mature people we are, we kept laughing over the word. "Aus-fart". I thought I'd take a picture for posterity...even if it is through a grimy windshield.

Germany-January 23, 2009

2009-02-09T06:45:00.001-08:00

We woke to a grey day. Not snowing, but dreary. Almost an omen for the site we would visit today. We had decided to see Dachau Concentration Camp today. It was the first concentration camp set up by the Nazi's during World War II. It was a place of unspeakable horror, not just for the Jews who found their unhappy fate awaiting inside it's cold stone gates, but also for the numberless concourses of political enemies the Nazi's wished to sweep under the carpet and silence forever.

I had never considered that there were others who suffered in places such as these. Of course, everyone has heard about the horror of the holocaust. But, in my naive mind, I considered that only the brainwashed youth of the Nazi party had witnessed the brutality along with the other Jewish prisoners. It never occured to me that German royalty, politicians and respected artisans and doctors would be witnesses as well as recipients of the terror. I shook in disgust at the unbound fingers of evil in that time.

As we entered the city of Dachau and wound our way around to the camp, we were greeted by the cold, whitewashed walls watched over by looming towers. I shuddered. Towers that men stood on to hunt the prisoners as sport. Towers men stood on to taunt and harass. Towers. An outward manifestation of inward pride. A line from the book in my lap came back to my mind. "Any of you who think that these dogs are human, who think they have human feelings, should leave. You are unfit for the work of the SS." I could imagine the young SS men lined up, many afraid to ignore the call to arms by the Nazi party (remember, it wasn't just Jews in the concentration camps...all enemies of the Nazi party were fair game), and many staring at the gaunt, lifeless faces of the prisoners, sick in their stomachs. I imagine some were eager to participate, but after the images I've seen now, I imagine that any human with a heart would inwardly wretch at the sight.

We walked on the frozen ground, audio tour in hand, to the gate. "Arbeit Macht Frei" marked on the cold metal gate. "Work makes you free". I thought back to the book we had read for the last hour, the history of Dachau. I silently thought, "the only freedom here was death".

We wandered in the memorial, once the main building. Images of the Nazi party's rise to power and Hitler's rise to command it all were chronicled. Mixed with the images and mementos were cracked concrete walls with peeling paint. Though heated, it was cold in the place, but still a welcome refuge from the frigid wind outside. I imaged what it would be like without heat, how the prisoners had endured it. We read of individual prisoners, their families, their professions, their lives. Many of them were sacrificed upon the alter of greed and insanity. But some, by miracles untold, found themselves on the other side, survivors...voices for the numberless faces that didn't ever know freedom again.

By the end of the day, my heart was numb. I didn't feel the cold, my mind was so preoccupied. I wanted to weep. I wanted to weep for the sufferings of humanity. That men could be so cruel to their neighbor. That evil should have such a long, drawn out triumph over good made me sick. But yet, as I left the place, I felt that I was on holy ground. Not because of what had happened there...but because it stands as a reminder to me and all that we have a responsibility to stop evil in its place. That we who defend good should do all we can, sacrifice what we can, to keep such dreadful things from ever happening again. And for this, I am glad I came.

Germany-January 22, 2009

2009-02-09T06:44:00.001-08:00

This was the day we had come for. We awoke around 8am with sunlight pouring through the blinds and an absolutely breathtaking view of the Alps before us. The sky was a bright sapphire blue and the sunlight set the snowy mountains a shimer.

There was only one problem. We hadn't reserved childcare for this day. We had reserved it for tomorrow. We hurriedly called the child development center to see if we had moved up on the waiting list. No luck. We called our friends the Hatch's who were staying at the hotel with us hoping to ski as well. Shawn Hatch offered to watch all of the kids while the three of us (Kevin, me, and his wife) skiied. Was he kidding??? I couldn't let him pass up an opportunity like this. We finally decided that the wives would ski first and then come back to take the kids while the men enjoyed the latter part of the day. Only one small hang-up. Kim Hatch wasn't ready to get out of bed yet. The men decided to go first and make the most of the day.

While they were out skiing (and they came back raving about the snow and the beautiful views), Weslee and I went to the pool and the hot tub. I felt like I was living in the lap of luxury. Here we were, sitting in a steaming hot tub, under a blazing blue sky, surrounded by breathtaking mountains covered in snow. I looked around and thought, "How many people get an opportunity like this?" I couldn't believe my many blessings, and I thanked God in my heart for them.

I was anxious when Kevin and Shawn arrived at the hotel. They were later than I expected and I had been nervously watching clouds roll in. I was going to ski, but I wanted pictures as well. I was hoping to get to the top while it was still clear. My wish came true. We got in a few good runs, but neither Kim or I are maniac skiiers. We do it for leisure, and we took our time. We stopped to rest every now and then, and enjoyed the views. During these moments, I took lots of pictures. Some of them I really like.

At the end of the day, all were exhausted. I was craving a burger, but the grill was closed. We hit the buffet instead. We ate until we felt like we were going to burst. It was a very good day.

Germany-January 21, 2009

2009-01-28T06:06:00.000-08:00

Today was still snowy, but we woke to a better view of the mountains. We were exhausted from the drive and chose to sleep in today. We weren't sure where we were going to go, but had thought about Dachau concentration camp before breakfast. By the time we got ready, ate and were out the door...it was too far to drive to Dachau for the day. We decided to go to Neuschwanstein castle, just 30 miles through the mountains.

I was so excited. Neushwanstein Castle was right at the top of my "to see" list when we came to Germany. It was built by King Ludwig II. It was designed by a theatre set designer instead of an architect, and each room in the castle has a theme...usually the theme is based on one of Ludwig's favorite plays or scenes. He was a wild supporter of the theatre and the arts. Because it looks so much like it's from a fairy tale, Walt Disney used it as the blue print for the castle in Sleeping Beauty, which later became Disney's logo. Everyone associates Walt Disney with the castle...in short, Neuschwanstein castle. It was cool to see the castle that inspired the magic.

Anyway, we got to the site by 2:00pm. I forgot to figure into the deal that we were in Europe and it was winter time. Everything closes early here in the winter. We got to the ticket counter to find out that the place closed at 3pm. It was a 45 minute hike to the castle from the bottom. Even by horse and carriage, it wouldn't have given us much time to look and wonder. But, we decided to hike to the top anyway and see the exterior, if nothing else. I was more than a little heart broken, but glad to be here, nonetheless.

Kevin carried Weslee most of the muddy way. The snow had melted on the dirt road and turned everything into a mudslide of sorts. Horse manure mixed in with it all and made it a rather revolting mess. The woods were gorgeous though. The trees were lined with white frosting. Little sprays would fall from the trees and sprinkle the air with glittering "pixie dust".

By the time we reached the top, we were breathing heavily, sweating to death in our overstuffed coats and hats. We walked around the castle and took pictures. It was like a storybook...the long spires stretching to the grey sky. We were sad to find out that while the last entrance is at 3pm, the castle doesn't actually close until 4. It was too late to go and get a ticket. We would have had plenty of time to tour the inside afterall. We were a little miffed. I took pictures while we cooled down.

Slowly the clouds pulled back over the castle and it began to snow again. It got cold and windy and we put our coats back on. Kevin carried Weslee down the long slope and the poor kid crashed on his shoulder for part of the way.

We headed back to the hotel in quiet, enjoying the snow covered Alps. We ended the day by going to the Hotel Gastholf Fraundorfer for dinner. They served German food in a family style environment...which means that if your party doesn't fill up the whole table, they will seat another party at the same table with you until it is full. We shared a booth with two English men who spoke wonderful German. They told us all about their adventures skiing the Alps, the Rocky Mountains, and travelling the world. We listened intently while Weslee slept in my lap. He slept for the entire meal and didn't wake until we were almost through with dessert.

We ordered Wienerschnitzel and Pfeffersteak...which were both very delicious. But the height of culinary pleasure came with the Apfel Streudel. I hate baked apple things...but this delicious apple pastry with vanilla ice cream was divine. We should have ordered two! The entertainment was fun. All of the staff were dressed in German "folk" attire, two teenage boys did traditional dances for the crowds, and another man played the accordian all night. Very fun and entertaining. It capped off the day and by the end, I called it a very good day indeed.

Austria- January 20, 2008

2009-01-27T07:05:00.000-08:00

The tourist trap. Shawn Hatch and his girls bravely go where none of us had gone before. The snow was so beautiful.

Wes is getting quite proficient and throwing snowballs...and hits his target a fair amount of the time. My camera was the next target after this picture.

Cuckoo Clocks. These things were everywhere, in every size imagineable.

A beautiful church near the tourist trap. We walked around inside of it for a while.

Prayer candles inside the church. They added a warm, cheerful ambiance to the room.

The fake castle that I almost risked my life to photograph.

Everyone waiting in the van for me to photograph the fake castle.

Dusk-time sledding. This was my favorite part of the day. Kim Hatch and her daughter Shaylee get ready to take the plunge.

Kevin and Wes are going so fast, they're just a blur.

Wes mostly looked frightened going down the hills, but as soon as we'd get to the bottom, he'd ask to go up again. Crazy kid.

Shawn Hatch and his daughter Rylin.

Kim, the adventurer, kept taking the jumps on accident and had some sweet spills.

So, we woke up the next morning, ready to put on our ski gear, take our son to the Child Development Center for the day, and hit the slopes. And then, we opened the curtain to our room. The night before, I could vaguely see the outline of mountains and the snow groomers on the mountainsides. This morning, I could barely see the pine trees just 100 yards away. The ground was covered in snow and the snow was still coming down...HARD. We decided that if visibility was this terrible in the valley, it would be miserable on the slopes, and we further decided to forego our day of skiing.

Instead, our friends convinced us to try the breakfast buffet at the hotel (which was amazing) and head to Austria with them instead. So, we climbed into the van around 10 am, and drove the hour to Innsbruck, Austria. Our friend was visibly nervous driving on the icy roads. The visibility was horrible, but the roads were well shovelled. We arrived in time to find out that they were starting to close roads in the mountains. All of us froze. We didn't want to SPEND THE NIGHT in Austria. We had just wanted to check it out. We decided to make our visit quick before they decided to close the road to Garmisch, where we were staying.

We got out at the "tourist trap". Rows of gift shops lined a small, ancient alleyway. We looked at cuckoo clocks, cow bells, and knitted hats. Shawn, our friend, had promised his little girls some Austrian chocolate and we went in fervent search of it. While we slogged through the snow, I found and bought small gifts for family. After an hour of walking through shops, we stopped at a church nearby and toured its interior. Honestly, at this point, most of the churches look the same to me. I've been in so many magnificent churches, that some of the novelty has worn off. But, I took pictures and enjoyed the high vaulted ceilings.

We drove back without problems. The roads weren't closed, and we were so relieved. At one point on the drive, everyone admired a castle on the side of the road. I was stuffed in the back seat of the van, and couldn't get any good pictures. Actually, I don't think I would have gotten good pictures had I been in the front either. The windshied and windows were so splattered with mud and melted snow. At any rate, our friends stopped on the side of the road and told me to go and take some pictures of the castle. On the drive, it had seemed like we had stopped just after seeing it, but walking back up the mountain, it seemed much further away. I'm guessing it was about 1/4 mile up the mountain. I slogged along in the snow-mud mixture, stepping into deep snow banks to allow cars to pass. Because the road was so winding, I lost sight of our van pretty quickly. Suddenly, I felt alone in a desolate wilderness of white. With each passing car, I slowly began to realize that I was quite vulnerable.

My thinking went something like this: "Someone could easily stop and kidnap me. They could shove me in a car and drive right past the van, and no one would even know." I know that's pretty morbid, but it's sad that the first thing you think when you're alone on the side of the road in the Austrian Alps isn't "Wow, this is gorgeous", but "Dear God, please keep me safe".

I quickly found the castle, and while standing there, aiming my camera, I realized, it wasn't a castle at all. I'm pretty sure castles weren't built out of stucco. It was a resort, built to look like a castle. From the backside, you could see a shopping area of sorts. I snapped a few pictures, but I felt pretty foolish anyways.

I ran the quarter mile back to the car, informed them of our mistake, and relaxed in the relief of being with other people. Being alone in a foreign country had given me the willies.

On our way home, we found a good hill to go sledding on. We enjoyed the rest of the daylight, and the early night hours zipping down a small hill we found near the hotel. Weslee LOVED it and insisted on going over and over again. When all of our fingers were frozen, we piled back into the van and headed back to warm up in the hot tub.

We spent the rest of the evening relaxing in the indoor pool and outdoor hottub. Weslee learned to dunk his head under the water. (This is a big accomplishment considering this is the kid that would scream bloody murder when you poured water on his head in the shower. He would then spend the rest of the shower glowering at you like you had, in fact, tried to kill him.) He also learned how to jump while holding on to the side of the pool. He spent the entire rest of the time, alternately dunking his head and jumping.

We fell into bed that night, exhausted from the drive the previous day and wondering if the snow would ever let up enough to ski. The forecasts weren't good.

Germany-January 19, 2008

2009-01-27T06:44:00.001-08:00

Wes in the ferry. He loved running around and getting to exercise his legs before the LONG stint of our journey.

Everyone is Europe is all about "going green". No wonder the landscape was littered with windmills.

Today was a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG day. We woke up at 4am, threw the remaining luggage in the car, and headed off from our home in Mildenhall, UK to catch a ferry in Dover at 8am. We had to be there at least an hour ahead of time. The blue-ish bags under our eyes could testify to our tiredness. We had stayed up entirely too late the night before packing, and it really showed. Weslee soon fell asleep in the car, and Kevin and I drove in relative silence. We usually talk about things...lately, we talk alot about Kevin's career and his options. We love the military, it's done alot of good things for us, but if Kevin doesn't become an officer, we have to have a backup plan. Neither of us is fond of the deployments frequently required by the enlisted personnel. Not to mention, my husband is WAY too smart, and WAY too capable to spend the rest of his life being treated like a sub-human. He says he doesn't mind, but I mind. If I could change one thing about the military, I would have the leadership treat the enlisted personnel with dignity. But, I digress...

When we reached the ferry, the white cliffs and sea were still shrouded in darkness. There were no lines, and rain was pouring down. We had never seen such a down-pour in England. We're used to light, almost misty, rain. But, as if some one poured a bucket of water out of the sky, England was drenched in torrents of precipitation. We waited in the car for an hour until our time arrived to board the boat. We were so lost. Having never ridden a ferry before, we were unsure what to do when we finally got our car aboard. We finally decided that "when in Rome........" We watched everyone else and got out of the car and headed upstairs.

The ferry was very nice. We breakfasted at a table overlooking the very stormy sea. Weslee enjoyed running around. The boat rocked from side to side with the push of the waves and a few times, I felt like my bowl of cereal would greet the world once again. Luckily, it decided to stay put. Weslee and Kevin took the opportunity to go on the deck and felt like they were going to be blown overboard the gusts of icy wind were so fierce.

When we finally arrived in Dunquerque, France, two hours later, the seas were much calmer and we drove out into a light wind and no rain. Amazing the difference of weather just across a slim channel of water.

The next 11 hours were spent listening to the smooth accent of the British woman inside our Tom-Tom GPS system, guiding us along roads that we didn't know. On one occasion, I HAD to use the restroom. We couldn't read the signs (they were in French, Dutch, and German) and had a hard time finding a restroom. The road signs were all different from the ones used in England, and even then, some of the symbols on the English signs are still an enigma to us. We got a little lost. Stress levels rose and the air inside the car began to feel stifling. Of course, Wes decided this was the perfect time to cry. It didn't help. After some silence and some tears of my own, we found our way back with Tom-Tom Jane announcing every 5 seconds "Please turn around", "Please turn around", "Please turn around". The satellite eventually located us and guided us back on our way.

We arrived in Garmisch, Germany, nestled in the Bavarian Alps around 10pm. It appeared as if there were no snow on the ground, and Kevin and I worried aloud that we had just gone through the whole day's ordeal for nothing. We had come to ski, and we hoped there would be enough snow to ski on up in the mountains. The clerk at the desk assured us that while it was a little icy up top, you could still ski.

We went to the room, unloaded our stuff and relaxed. We called our friends, the Hatch's, who had been at the hotel for 3 days already. We prepared to get together the following day. I looked out the window at the snow groomers combing the mountain. I snuggled into bed, and I was promptly asleep.

Stoke on Trent

2009-01-26T02:28:00.000-08:00

Every American lady that lives here in England gets a little bit giddy when the name, Stoke-on-Trent, is mentioned. Visions of Wedgwood, Spode, and Burleigh bone china go dancing through their heads. And in January, the desire to trek to Stoke becomes almost feverish for one reason...it's half-price month.

England is known for it's blue and white print bone china. In fact, you'll see a little of it on display in every Jane Austen movie you see. In days past, it was a luxury for the aristocracy and upper class who could afford the exorbitant prices. Even today, the names Burleigh and Wedgwood excite images of fine dining and luxurious weddings.

However, at Stoke on Trent, a charming town lined with bottle shaped kilns, there are factory stores. You can still purchase the imaculate china (known as "best" china) at the individual factories for considerably less than you could get it elsewhere. But, what brings the flocks of women to Stoke in January are the factory stores, offering steep discounts on "seconds" (china that has small flaws, some unnoticeable). "Seconds" by nature are cheaper than "bests" and when at an additional 50% off...it's the most affordable way to own a piece of English history.

Our expedition was decided last minute. By the time Kevin and I would have returned from Germany, too many tours would have visited Stoke and the selection would have been minimal. This was one of the only souvenirs I wanted from England and so, I was determined to go. We decided that I would put together a group of ladies and travel to Stoke, the day after the sales began on January 17th (which happened to be the day before we left for Germany). We left at 6am (got up at 5am), threw on clothing and put our hair in ponytails and headed off in a van to Stoke (2 1/2 hours away). We shopped from the time the stores opened at 9am and ended near 5pm.

I was a particular fan of Burleigh china. I bought an assortment of different blue prints. There were so many to choose from, both I and the other ladies kept choosing pieces and putting them back, choosing more and putting them back...trying to get the right mix, and not kill our husbands with the bill at the end of the day. I am not normally a shopper, but I had so much fun looking at all of the china that was offered. I can honestly say...I shopped until I dropped!

From Burleigh, we travelled to Spode, Portmeirion, Royal Doulton, Wedgwood, and Aynsley factories. I spent the most at Burleigh, but went a little hog wild with the white china at Portmeirion. Boxes and boxes of wrapped china made their way home with me at the end of the day.

Some interesting tid-bits about Burleigh is that they still make china the way that have since our country was established. They spin the pots and plates out on a wheel, cure them in a kiln, and then transfer a print onto the china from fabric. All of the prints on the china were transfered from a fabric. You can actually see on some of the china where the fabric crinkles or overlaps (that's what makes them "seconds"...the print isn't perfect). It is a practice that has been used for centuries, and it makes the china look lovely. I bought a cake plate that has a 1930's flower print. The ink didn't come off of the fabric easily, and it left the cake plate looking weathered and very old. I absolutely love it.

Another fun thing was that the guard showed us the offices while we were waiting in line for the loo. They still use the desks from the time the factory opened. They have computers in there now and fax machines, and other pieces of modern office equipment, but the furniture hasn't changed. They have the same file cabinets, desks, and fixtures. They've changed the lighting to electricity, but the same lamp shades are still there. It was like stepping back in time. Everything was so beautiful.

After it was all said and done, it was one of the most fun ladies trips I've ever taken. I went with Cheria Sadler (who goes to church with me) and her friend, Reagan. We laughed and talked, and egged eachother on with our purchases. It was a fun break, and one I'm glad I took.

London...3 weeks late

2009-01-25T15:11:00.000-08:00

From inside the Tower of London. You can see the immense crowds lining up to see the Bloody Tower in the background. We didn't get to see it. The line was too long.

The iconic Tower Bridge stretching over the Thames River.
Wes and Kevin waiting in line to get tickets to see the Tower of London. I am in another line, hoping to beat them to the ticket counter. It didn't happen. They totally beat me.

The Yeoman Warder tour at the Tower of London. He told us all the gruesome details of the beheadings and other bloody parts of the history of this place.

Guard at the gates of the Crown Jewels. Apparently, their costumes cost 10,000 pounds. Yikes!

This Tudor apartment was a gift to Anne Bolyne from Henry VIII. The lovely part was that she spent her house arrest here when she lost favor with Henry and was beheaded on the front lawn you see here...just about where the Christmas tree is standing.

Entrance to view the crown jewels and the largest cut diamond on earth...located in the royal scepter.

I love this picture of Shakespeare, standing in the center of Leister Square, amidst all of the theatre houses and movie theatres (and in this case, a New Year's carnival), looking unbearably bored.

Double decker night life.

Teri in the Tube.

OK...so, I've been way to busy preparing to travel, that I haven't recorded the travels we've already been on. I'll try and recap:

The day before New Year's found us in London. Our first trip to the big city since moving to England. We went mainly to attend the temple. We caught the last few sessions before the temple closed for it's bi-annual cleaning. While there, we stayed in the temple patron's housing (because it was WAY cheaper than getting a hotel in the area) and we ate at an AWESOME pub called the Peacock. Even now, I crave their chicken and bacon burger. Haven't found anything that compares at our local pubs. The deal at the temple patron housing is that for every day you stay there, you have to do a session. So, we toured London during the day and did our temple sessions at night. It was a win-win situation. We got to see the city and get a spiritual boost, all in the same trip.

Our trip to London could have been better planned. We forgot about the crowds that would gather to ring in the New Year in London. Silly us. But, after the train ride into London, we had time to walk beside the dirty (seriously, it was disgustingly muddy, murky and polluted) river Thames, and tour the Tower of London. Touring the Tower took the remainder of our day for several reasons. First, the crowds. The lines to get tickets were SO LONG. People of all nationalities lined up to see the crown jewels and the places where Anne Bolyne and other famous British politicians were beheaded. (Seriously, Europe and in particular, England, has such a bloody history). Second, it's winter here and daylight doesn't last long. With the sun setting around 4 pm, we had very limited daylight to see everything in. By the time we got through the 1 hour line to see the crown jewels, the sun was quickly setting. We headed to Leister Square to check out theatre tickets (which we didn't buy) and to grab a bite to eat at a very nasty Chinese buffet. If there is one thing I've learned from experience here, it's that the British DON'T know how to make Chinese food. The pub grub is delicious (if not artery clogging), the Indian food is superb...but don't ever eat the Chinese food. Nasty-licious.

We ended our tour of London catching the Underground ("the Tube") to the train station and heading back towards the temple. We were grateful that the train was heated, because it was SO COLD outside in the city.

Christmas Pageant

2009-01-05T04:00:00.000-08:00

So, the holidays have come and gone, as have our illnesses (for the most part). We enjoyed ourselves and are sad to see our holiday vacation come to an end.

We had our friends, Melvin and Cheria Sadler and their two cute little girls Danya and Nikole over for Christmas Eve fondue. They had never had fondue before and we opened their eyes to a world of stressful possibilities involving hot oil and uncooked meat all within reach of their 2 small girls at the table. For some reason, fondue has never been a stressful event in Kevin's family (from whence this tradition came). I don't know if it's because the kids grow up with the hot oil on the table every Christmas or what...but it's never stressed anyone out (that I know of...correct me if I'm wrong sis-in laws). However, our poor friends had the hardest time with their children grabbing food out of the bowls, reaching for the forks in the fondue and just reaching for the hot oil in general. You could tell they were a little stressed out all night. But, for Kevin and I, it was fun having fondue. It's a tradition I always look forward to. And, especially this year, making and eating the fondue made our little English cottage feel like home.

After the fondue, the kids did their best to fill all of the roles in the Christmas story. The two young ones lost interest after about 2 minutes and took off their costumes. The older one, Danya, had to fill all of the roles by herself. No small feat for a 5 year old actress. I will say that our costume collection is sparse indeed. Nothing like grandma's collection. He have no furs to make people into animals in the stable. No old bathrobes. Nothing that resembles frankinsence and myrrh. Our trio of actors had to rely on long t-shirts, dinner napkins, head bands, an umbrella for a shepherd's staff and lots of stuffed animals. We found out that the birth of the Christ child was witnessed (at least in our production) by not only sheep and cows, but by two lions, a crab, a couple of monkeys and a chihuahua. Well, it was a low-budget production, needless to say.

After the festivities, we spoke to most of our family over Skype...well into the wee hours of the morning. Santa still managed to come, even though we were up until 3 am. Weslee received some new toys and would get so excited after opening a present, he didn't want to open any more...he just wanted to play with the toy he had just opened. We had to hide the presents he had just opened so that he would finish opening what was under the tree.

Santa was skimpy with Kevin and I this year...mainly because we told him we didn't want gifts, we wanted to travel. So, we're taking any money we would have spent on Christmas gifts and are using it towards going and seeing Europe. In January, we're planning to go skiing in the Bavarian Alps of Germany for a week. In February, we're touring Northern Italy. We may even take a road trip across the channel and visit France for a few days. Who knows?

Anyway, the season was festive. It came and went entirely too fast, in my opinion. I always love the Christmas decorations, the flickering candles, and of course, the good food. I love spending uninterupted time with my family and making memories. I hated that I wasn't able to do all that I usually do because I was so so sick. We were all SO sick that it was hard to accomplish more than just the bare minimum. But, even so, it was a good holiday.

Leeds Castle, Maidstone, Kent

2008-12-26T07:51:00.001-08:00

We were supposed to tour Dover Castle on this day, but after a wonderful night's stay in the Old Churchill hotel on the beach and a traditional English breakfast, we arrived at the gates of Dover Castle to find out it was closed. Apparently, they are closed every Tuesday and Wednesday during the winter. That would have been nice to know before we drove all the way down here.

So, after being pretty ticked off for a few minutes, Kevin suggested that we go to Leeds Castle. I'm SO glad that we did. This was such a wonderful place for our whole family. If I had to choose another name for the castle, I'd call it Bird castle because it was surrounded with peacocks, ducks, geese, white and black swans, and there was an aviary behind the castle with all sorts of exotic birds in cages. Kevin would probably call it Maze castle because of the fun hedge maze behind the castle that we ran around in for an hour. He also loved the huge playground for the kids that looked like a castle.

Leeds castle was absolutely breath-taking in its English understated simplicity. It is basically two stone structures (the older one in the middle of the man-made moat being built in the 1300's and the "newer" one on the small island in the middle of the moat being built in the 1800's) in the middle of a man-made lake, surrounded by rolling hills with grazing sheep and huge oak trees. I felt like I had stepped into a movie. It was gorgeous.

The house itself was decorated for Christmas. Every room was a scene from the Nutcracker. There were 17 Christmas trees throughout the house. It was truly beautiful.

Our favorite part, though, was the maze. We ran around and around looking for the right way to get to the center. Weslee giggled and smiled as he bobbed along on Kevin's back. It was such a fun thing to do as a family. We really had a good time.

Canterbury

2008-12-26T07:43:00.000-08:00

I was a Sophmore in high school when I was first introduced to Canterbury through the carefully spun tales of Chaucer. I remember learning the history of Thomas Becket, archbishop of Canterbury's, untimely death (aka murder) inside the confines of the cathedral and the resulting sainthood he achieved through his martyrdom. I remember wondering why so many people would make a pilgrimmage, sometimes walking (or riding a horse, which isn't much more comfortable) for hundreds or even thousands of miles to see the grave of a dead guy. I think I have now solved this mystery.

As we entered the city somewhere around 4 pm, we were taken back by the sheer magesty of the cathedral on the sky line, eluminated in a bright amber glow amid the grey light of dusk. Shoppers and tourists strolled along the 2000 year old Roman city wall, almost perfectly in tact seemingly unaware of the mammoth stone sentinel behind them. Were it not for the traffic of a working day past, we would have fixed our eyes on the structure and studied its detail as we wound our way through the maze of tiny streets and roundabouts. But, we were in unknown territory, our son was tired of sitting and anxious for some exercise, and other cars seemed to materialize before our very eyes and our very bumper. Luckily, we escaped unscathed.

By the time we figured out how to pay for our parking at the lot (those "pay and display" places can be a little confusing) and had walked the several blocks to the city center, it was just after 5 pm. The little light that had lingered when we arrived was long gone and the city was shrouded in winter blackness. We strolled down the quaint streets, decorated for Christmas in lights and wreaths. Shoppers dashed in and out of shops that boasted late night hours in honor of the festive season. They were open until 8 pm!!! (We have yet to discover what the British do with themselves after 6pm. They seem to disappear or hybernate for the night hours and suddenly reappear in the morning hours. I'm of the opinion that they must be alergic to the dark, for once it becomes dark, the streets are deserted!) All of the shops usually close at 5 or 6pm, including the restaurants. And suddenly, as if by magic, the town empties as the English hurry to their little homes.

We, however, enjoyed the "extended" bustle of the shoppers. At 5pm, the mall was still pulsing with the beat of shoes against the cobblestones and the sound of musicians playing a merry tune. Bags were rustling in the wind and families seemed to be enjoying the warmer-than-usual weather of the evening. Vendors were still out selling potato jackets (baked potatoes with a variety of toppings) and sausages.

We stopped off at the Canterbury Christ Church Cathedral; seat of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the head of the Church of England. All of the Anglican church is guided from this one, massive building. We enjoyed the manger scene they had placed out front. Weslee excitedly pointed to baby Jesus and made sure the other kids saw Him as well.

We walked around and around the building. We noticed that during the Reformation, the building was relieved of all of it's "idols", or stone statues of the Catholic saints. During the following centuries since then, the places have been filled with stone images of England's own saints. There are statues of every king and queen, including the infamous King Henry VIII who started the Church of England because he wanted to marry Anne Bolyne and divorce his first wife, Catherine. All of the Archbishops are present. And poor Thomas Becket, the saint the cathedral is most known for, stands in all of his stony glory without a head. It's almost like it wasn't enough to kill him in real life, they had to behead his statue too.

We got to enter the church and hear a part of the even song service. The organist was amazing and Kevin was able to audio record a little of it. I don't think I've ever heard an organist's fingers move so fast. It was beautiful and sort of haunting as the music filled the cavernous nave of the church.

As I left, I realized that the early pilgrims didn't come so much to see the stained glass likeness of Thomas Becket, his beheaded statue, or even to commune with a dead guy. I think they came for the grandeur of the cathedral itself. I think they came to feel that there was something bigger than humanity, and the cathedral certainly gives that feeling. At the end of the long, uncomfortable journey, I think they wanted reassurance that there was someone or something bigger than their problems and their earthly woes. It's interesting that throughout all of recorded history, man always looks for something higher than himself to make sense of the madness here on earth.

Sick of Being Sick

2008-12-21T14:21:00.000-08:00

We are now well into our third week of being sick in this household. Personally, I'm sick of it! (Play on words intended!) Weslee started us off with a cold on the first of December. Kevin and Teri quickly followed with sore throats of their own. Teri burst out into a full blown flu on December 6th, right after her annual Visiting Teaching Brunch. After a few hours of taking pictures in the freezing cold for the Primary, Teri was shivering not just from the wind, but from the fever that had taken hold of her. She drove the hour home and went to bed. After a few days, both Teri and Weslee seemed to be doing better.

But, then Weslee began cutting teeth and Teri had a few restless nights caring for him. Teri got sick again, this time with a chest cold that kept her sniffling and coughing well into the night. Weslee got his first ear infection and we took him to the doctor for antibiotics. After a few days with the antibiotics, he seemed to be doing better, and his tooth broke the surface which relieved some of his pain. Teri, with increased sleep, seemed to be on the mend.

However, this week has brought a fresh bought of fun. Teri's cold developed into bronchitis. She coughs incessantly and has a hard time sleeping at night...and NOTHING seems to help...not cough drops, vapor rub, or cough syrup. Today at church, she had to leave sacrament because she was interrupting the Christmas program...and had to leave the classroom during the 3rd hour for the same reason. (It's REALLY REALLY annoying!) Kevin has taken to sleeping on the couch so that he can get some rest and also so that his sore throat doesn't turn into something more serious.

The latest gift in the sickness merry-go-round happened at church today. Weslee broke out in an awful rash, little red welts all over his body during Sacrament meeting. Luckily, we have about 20 doctors in our ward. One of the pediatricians took a look at him and told us it was just a reaction from his antibiotic and whatever virus he's had. He told us it was nothing to worry about and would go away in a few days. He's not itching or red or puffy. So, it's not an allergic reaction. But, either way, we still have a polka-dotted kid for a little while.

It's frustrating. Seriously. Of all the times of year! We had wanted to travel to some of the Christmas markets in the area...but all we've wanted to do is sleep with all of this illness floating around. We've missed most of them. We're heading to Dover tomorrow, regardless of how we feel and we're going to make use of this Christmas vacation to travel and see the sights. We feel better, but the sickness is clinging to us and won't let go. Part of me worries that something else is going to hit us. But, frankly, at this point...I DON'T CARE. I'm ready to get out and see the country that we're living in. And, no amount of coughing my lungs out is going to stop me.

Independence

2008-12-18T15:20:00.001-08:00

In order to get a picture of him actually looking at the camera, we began singing "5 Little Monkeys". This is Weslee's favorite part where Mr. Alligator "SNAPS" the monkey right out of the tree.

Wes sees the ducks and is yelling "Waat! Waat! Waat! Waat!" at them all.

Wes is at an age now where there is a delicate balance between independence and the desire to cling to my leg. Today's walk was an excellent example. We started off on a footpath near our house towards the river to see and feed the ducks...or the "Waat Waat Waat" as Weslee calls them. It was a rare day when it wasn't too cold (we were able to stay outside for an hour until our fingers became numb) and the sun was shining. The sun doesn't shine here every day in the winter. Most days are filled with clouds, and most of the time, those clouds are filled with a misty rain that covers every thing in a slippery film. The wet seeps into the ground and creates mud everywhere. I hate getting muddy, but it's a part of the British countryside I've had to come to accept. There are only two choices here...stay in doors and become terribly depressed, or venture outdoors and become terribly cold and muddy. We choose the cold and muddy alternative and wash laundry often. Our radiators are often draped with everything from kitchen towels to underwear. The radiators dry clothes far faster than our British clothes dryer. Most people here just hang their laundry out to dry in the morning. I'm still confused how laundry can dry when it's misting outside. I don't trust the method or the dryer and so I continue to use the radiators.

On today's adventure, we head out for the ducks after lunch, even though I'm aware that Weslee is tired. I know that if we wait until after his nap, it will be getting dark and colder and neither of us will enjoy the walk as much (the sun goes down at 3:30 pm right now and will continue to get darker sooner until Dec. 21st). So, we bundle up and head outside. Weslee seems particularly excited to be outside or "side" as he calls it and races down the side walk with a huge smile on his face yelling "Hi! Hi! Hi! Hi!" to every person and dog he meets.

I finally steer him towards the footpath (they are dirt paths throughout the countryside and connect the many villages to one another) that leads to the river. He had wanted to follow the middle school children into town. The teachers all compliment him on his winter hat as they pass from the middle school and disappear down Church Walk toward St. Mary's Cathedral and he hides his face in my jeans. I thank them for him. After they pass, he lurches after them, tripping on his own feet to get off the curb and onto the street. I catch him as he falls and lead him in the other direction. He pulls away for a moment and then forgets why he's struggling and begins happily walking in the right direction. I marvel at how easily toddlers are distracted.

We stop to smell random leaves, usually wet and moldering on the soggy English turf. We stop to examine tiny flowers that somehow manage to bloom in the winter dreariness. We stop to play in the mud and examine the bottoms of our shoes. And finally, we reach the footpath where I can let him run free between the fences. He runs and tries to jump, looking more like he's dancing than jumping. He examines a garbage truck going on it's daily rounds. He stands and watches it for more than 5 minutes as it disappears down the road. The men stop and smile at him. He hides his face in my jeans again, which are getting dirtier by the minute. When they leave, he begins his run down the lane again. He loves being free. The distance between us emboldens him and he runs faster laughing loudly, hands waving in the air.

The freedom can't last for long. He's not stable enough on his feet to run as fast as he would like, especially on the slippery mud. He falls, face first...luckily into a pile of blackened leaves. He doesn't move. He waits for me to pick him up and comfort him. I encourage him to stand up and dust himself off. He won't. His pride is wounded more than his little cherub face and he waits for me so that he can hide himself in my shirt and hear me whisper words of comfort and affirmation. I hold him, knowing full well that he's wiping snot and mud all over my jacket. I'm starting to regard such offerings as normal parts of my apparel.

After a few minutes, he uncovers his face and looks around excitedly. He's ready to be free again and I let him down, even though he's told me that he wants "Up". "Up" means up and down in this household. I touch his feet to the earth and almost immediately, they carry him far down the lane.

We get to the river and see the ducks. Wonder crosses my sweet son's eyes. He loves the animals. He yells at them "Waat! Waat! Waat!" and hopes they can understand his "ducky" language. He laughs hysterically when they dunk under the water and shake the leftover droplets from their wings. He flaps around on the bank, alternately yelling and laughing for 5 minutes.

And then, the magic is gone. The wind gets colder. I notice his little hands are now quite red. He rubs his eyes and I realize that bed time is upon us. He reaches his hands up and boldly asks "Up?" and this time I hold him, realizing that the walk back will require my feet alone. A wise friend once told me never to walk with my children further than I was willing to carry them back. I think of this as we trudge through the mud back to our house. My son's muddy shoes brush against my jeans as we walk and I notice the stains growing blacker with each stride. I've only recently dressed for the day and I am glad that I put on jeans I had worn the day before. That leaves me a clean pair for Young Women's later tonight. I feel him nuzzle his head into my neck and I feel his cold nose and hot breath against my skin. He's getting heavy, but I feel the sweetness of the moment and I don't require him to walk any further. I pat his back as we walk and talk about how much fun I've had with him.

By the time we reach home, the sun has sunk towards the horizon, kissing the tree line. It is 2:45 and the rays of light are already getting long. The tempurature, pleasant only an hour before, is forcing both Weslee and I to shiver. We take our muddied shoes off outside the door and step into the cottage.

My little boy, so keen to be independent, snuggles further into me as we take off our jackets. I take the time to snuggle him in a big warm blanket and read to him while he warms. I think of the paradox of toddlerhood, the independence mingled with the necessity for safety, guidance, and comfort and realize that in so many ways, we are all toddlers to God. We all walk down the path of life, sometimes running faster than we can, all glorying in our freedom and our independence. And yet, our lives are wrapped so wholly around Him who created us. How many times in my fear, frustration, or sheer exhaustion have I cried out to him to carry me and found that he was strong enough to carry us both. I wonder if in those moments, when my whole soul reaches out to him with trust and humility, he feels as I feel carrying my son back from a long walk. I wonder if he's overcome with love for me as he helps and comforts me the way I'm overcome with love as I help and comfort Weslee. And I am overcome with gratitude, not only for my moments with Weslee, but for the tangible understanding they give me into the character of an eternal Being who has Fathered me.

Catching Up

2008-12-14T13:49:00.001-08:00

These are the rolls I made. Man...it makes me want to make another pan. I'm feeding the missionaries tomorrow...why the heck not?

Weslee wouldn't stop eating the rolls. He kept running back to the table after we had started cleaning up and kept grabbing rolls from one of the low tables. He ate and ate until his heart was contented!

At the service project. The kids kept coming up and swiping the candy. Then again, someone else I know kept swiping the candy too...cough cough Kevin!! cough cough. Ahem...what was I saying?

So, it's been a WHILE since I've written and so much has happened. We haven't travelled much...mainly because since Thanksgiving, we've been unpacking and sick. Let's start with the unpacking...

Our stuff came the day before Thanksgiving. We stayed up, joyous to see our stuff again and overwhelmed by boxes, until 2 am, finding places for it all and wondering if it was really all going to fit. You'll recall that we only brought half of our possessions, knowing it would be a tight fit. But, looking at all of the boxes and literally having to crawl over them to get to the bathroom or up the stairs, or into bed at night...we wondered if perhaps we should have left more behind in the United States. We started in the kitchen because, well, the next day was Thanksgiving and Teri had signed up to bake rolls. She did this, knowing full well that all of her stuff would be at her house, in boxes, the day before. But, she did it anyway. Silly girl. However, by the time 2 am rolled around that first night, the kitchen was pretty well cleared away and she was able to bake the rolls afterall.

Since we stayed up so late the night before Thanksgiving, we all slept, made rolls, and relaxed the next day...pretending all the while that our house wasn't really being taken over with rogue boxes. We enjoyed the holiday and even welcomed a guest (from the real estate agent's office) in our jammies in the middle of the day. We had Thanksgiving dinner with the members of our church later in the afternoon. Therefore, there really was no reason to get dressed until much later in the day.

Thanksgiving dinner was lovely. The turkey was good, there were mashed potatoes, and rolls. I did miss family, I won't lie. I did miss Mom's pumpkin pie, and grandma's pink fluff. I missed being able scoop up seconds whenever I wanted instead of waiting in line. But, overall, it was better than expected. We weren't alone. We celebrated the holiday. We made friends. It was a success. We even got to participate in a service project after dinner. We made goodie bags for all of the missionaries in the MTC in London to bring them some holiday cheer during the Christmas season. It was alot of fun...and a lot of candy!

Since Thanksgiving, we pulled it together and really got the house in order. Within a week, the house was organized (except this silly office I'm sitting in, and the bedroom, where at this very moment, I hear Kevin wrestling with the last few boxes of clothing and shoes). I purposely planned our annual Visiting Teaching Brunch the first week in December here at our house to get me to really put everything away in a timely manner. There's something about a deadline that makes you suck it all up and forget how daunting a task is and just well...do it! We got the living room put together just a few days before the party and it looks marvelous. It's my favorite room in the house now...and my favorite living room I've ever had. The fireplace, french doors, large furniture and just the ancient beams on the ceiling and hardwood floors with a big chocolate brown shag rug smack dab in the middle all add a comfortable, warm, and "lived in" feeling to the room that makes you want to snuggle in a chair with a good book...and I've done just that SEVERAL times over the past weeks. I've been in heaven!

Right before the brunch, Weslee began having a hard time sleeping and I stayed awake with him into the wee hours of the morning. We found out that this kid is teething AGAIN. He's cutting his 2 year molars. He's way to anxious about getting teeth and often gets them all at once. It's nice in the sense that once he cuts them, it's over with. But frustrating because since he cuts all of his teeth at once, he's a real booger for a week or so. On top of that, he got sick.

And then, within hours of the brunch, I got sick. Cough. Sore Throat. Fever. I was taking pictures for the Christmas program "surprise" at church when I felt myself starting to get weak and listless. By the time I got home, my fever was in full swing. I didn't go to church the next day, which was a bummer because I got a new calling! I've been called to work with the Young Women again. I'll be the second counsellor. I get to work with the 12 and 13 year olds. I can hardly wait.

The rest of the week was pretty much useless. I had no energy. I couldn't taste food, which meant that I didn't want to cook. We lived on left overs until they were gone...and then our diet consisted of frozen burritos and cereal. I tried to cook one of the nights and made tacos. They were horrible. I couldn't taste them, but Kevin's face looked like he was struggling to make me believe they tasted OK. If Kevin had a problem with the taste, you know they must have been pretty bad. To this day, I don't know what they tasted like...I just know I'll never cook again when I can't taste. Poor man!

During the week, I still attended Young Women's, Enrichment, and our Ward Christmas Party. I've felt pretty ill at all three events...though things got better toward the end of the week. I thought our family was starting to pull out of it all, but Kevin's informed me today that his sore throat has started to move into his chest. He's been sniffling and coughing all day and I worry that he'll get as sick as Weslee and I were. I'm crossing my fingers that he won't since Christmas is next week and we plan to travel around the UK during the two weeks of Christmas and New Year's vacations.

Nov 23- Snow and Christmas Ornaments

2008-12-04T07:22:00.000-08:00

Today was a lovely day. We woke up to snow! Seriously. It never snows here. It wasn’t sticking as we got ready for church, but right as we readied ourselves to leave, it began to stick to the sidewalk and road. The Sadlers (our neighbors) had told us NOT to go to church if there was snow on the roads because the Brits don’t know how to drive in it and there are tons of accidents, so I popped over to their house to see if they were going. They were already on their way out the door, so we drove to church with confidence. All the while we were there, huge flakes drifted past the windows and we came outside to an inch or so of white fluffy fun.

We were hoping to get some great pictures of our house surrounded by the white stuff. Well, the weather decided not to cooperate. All of Mildenhall looked wet, as if it had simply been raining all day. I wish I would have brought my camera to church. The fields were gorgeous covered in white, with little cottages, visible through the bare forest, sending little ribbons of smoke from their chimneys. It looked like a painting, too perfect to be real.

Later that night, Kevin turned on Christmas music while Weslee and I made Cinnamon Applesauce ornaments for our Christmas tree that’ll come on Wednesday with our ground shipment of goods. We scooted a Rubbermaid tub up to the kitchen counter. He stood on it and helped mix the cinnamon and applesauce together. It was a little bit of a chore to keep him from eating it after adding the white glue. He kept saying, “Mmmmm, yummy!” and would try to stick the spoon in his mouth when I wasn’t looking. He especially liked the part where we rolled out the dough and cut out the circle shapes. He played with the remnants, mushing them between his fingers and throwing them all over the countertops, while I made tiny holes in the tops to loop ribbon in later when they are dry. We stuck them in a warm oven to dry and the house smelled like cinnamon rolls the rest of the night. I can’t wait to put them on the tree, which we’re decorating inexpensively with things we can make, and see how it looks. I can’t wait for Christmas to get here soon!

Nov 22- The Broken Fridge at Butler's Cottage

2008-12-04T07:21:00.002-08:00

So, like I mentioned, Patricia clued us in about the history of 15 Wamil Way. It was built at the Butler’s cottage back in 1823. The butler would leave for work at the manor every day through the back gate in our garden. The garden used to be about 3 times larger, but the garden wall was blocking the view of the neighboring house and was cut down to its present size. So, we live in a very old home. Kevin pointed out that our cottage was built the year that Moroni visited Joseph Smith for the first time. It just made me realize how new our country is. If this house were in the United States, it would have been turned into a historical monument by now. The manor house would never have been demolished in the 1930’s because it would have been too important. But, relatively speaking, our house is pretty new in Britain. It has historical significance, but the Brits don’t really get excited about the age of a building unless it dates back at least 500 years or more. Even then, they’re more impressed if it dates back 1000 years. So, they aren’t too disturbed demolishing a 300 year old manor house.

Anyway, we discussed all of these important thoughts while lying on our futon mattresses we’re borrowing from the Airmen and Family Readiness Center and that smell curiously like a chain smoker has used them before us. When we finally emerged to get breakfast, we realized we were in for an adventure. The fridge was clammy. Not really warm, but not cold either. It was a brand new fridge (British, huge and marvelous!) and the freezer part was REALLY cold. But the milk, cheese and everything else felt like they were in a cooler where the ice was mostly melted. Even after maxing out the “coolness” on the thermometer, it still felt gross and clammy.

Even though we knew we might not get another one until Monday, we had to grocery shop for the weekend. The commissary doesn’t open again until Tuesday. While there, we ran into the guy that installed our refrigerator. He reminded us that we could call to get it repaired 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

As soon as we got back home, Kevin ran to our neighbor’s (Melvin and Cheria Sadler…they are total saints! They have helped us SO much!) to make a phone call to the repairmen. They took two hours to come, but that’s not surprising in the UK. Everything runs at a slower pace. I think Americans are the only culture on earth where everyone runs around like the world is ending tomorrow.

Anyway, long story short…they brought us a new fridge. It works great. It’s still British, huge and marvelous. We are glad to have a fridge where we can shop for at least a week at a time, and to have a freezer we can fit a frozen pizza into, which apparently is something of a novelty around here.

Nov 21- Moving In

2008-12-04T07:21:00.001-08:00

Today we moved into our house at 15 Wamil Way, Mildenhall, Suffolk IP28 7JU. We woke up at 9am and began packing our hotel room up like crazy. I was so excited to get out of the hotel room and into our cute little home that I could barely sleep last night. I woke up at 8:30 before hearing Kevin’s alarm clock in the living room, where he’s been sleeping on the hide-a-bed. (He was so crowded in the little bed they claim is made for two…they must be talking about 2 children…that he moved out into the living room the second week in our hotel room). Anyway, at 10 am, we rushed out the door, cashier’s check in hand, to begin our life out in the world of the British.

Signing the lease agreement went fairly smoothly. Our estate agent was gone on holiday and so Jenny, the secretary, helped us. She did a fabulous job, but she didn’t know the details of the property…like where the shed key is, or why we only got one set of keys instead of two or where the gas and electric meters are so that we could read them and call the company with our details. Regardless, we signed the paperwork and walked the short distance, past beautiful St. Mary’s church, to our new home.

Weslee and I stayed at the house to begin cleaning it up while Kevin went back to the hotel room to bring all of our stuff to the house and check out. While here, we discovered that our landlord isn’t too keen on cleaning. The walls are freshly painted. The floors were mostly clean…but several of her little knick knacks were laying about and when we opened up the pantries and cupboards, there was a thick layer of dust and crumbs. Nasty!!! We spent most of that first night sweeping out the dust, washing out drawers, and wiping down shelving. The nice thing is that she doesn’t expect us to white-glove clean the house when we leave. I could NEVER leave the cupboards and drawers looking like that…but it’s at least nice to know that we won’t have to pull an all-nighter scrubbing every little smudge off of the walls like at our last place.

After a while, Kevin showed up with the rest of our stuff. Weslee and I went out to meet him and to help him unload. As I approached the front door to bring some things in…Click! The wind blew the self-locking door shut. I could see my keys…the only set of keys…laying peacefully on the kitchen countertop. We had been in our house less than 2 hours and already we were locked out in the freezing cold.

At this point, I began to panic because we were expecting the military to deliver all of our appliances any time this afternoon and they were expecting our house to be unlocked. If they couldn’t deliver our household appliances today, we’d have to wait until at least Monday, if not later. I decided to return to the estate agent’s office to see if anyone had any more keys. As I walked the 5 minutes to their office, I thought of how much worse the situation could have been. Weslee could have been locked inside. I could just picture him standing at the door screaming and having no way to reach him. I counted my blessings even as I continued to panic.

When I got to the office, they tried every phone number they had to reach the landlord…with no luck. I was wringing my hands. My husband and son were stuck out in the cold or at best, jammed in the front seat of the car with all of our stuff. It wasn’t a situation that would accommodate them for any length of time.

Just then, Jenny the secretary remembered that our landlord had left a key with her friend who did house repairs. His wife, Angela, worked just across the street at a travel agency. As luck would have it, Angela was there and was able to help us as soon as her coworker got back from lunch.

Kevin was a total gentleman and had me wait in the car with our sleepy boy on my lap while he braved the cold for our 20 minute wait. It seemed like forever. The car was warm, but I kept looking out the window at my husband in his thin hoodie pulled up over his ears, arms pulled back into the sleeves trying to look like he didn’t mind the frosty wind much. He finally climbed on top of our shed where the neighbor’s garden wall blocked most of the wind.

Angela finally showed up. We finally got inside our house again. And life went on. We opened a letter from our landlord, Patricia, welcoming us to our new home and telling us the history of the place. And, it held the long lost shed key that poor Jenny didn’t know about earlier. We figured out how to light the boiler and heat the house. The military showed up with our appliances and were able to install them all. Life settled down and we cooked dinner.

Nov 20th- Cambridge

2008-12-04T07:20:00.000-08:00

With all of my whining and complaining yesterday, I didn’t take the time to talk about our trip to Cambridge yesterday. We took a trip with “John’s Journeys”…another in a long line of local bus trips offered by the base. I had thought the trip was going to be a guided tour of Cambridge…so I didn’t bother to study up on Cambridge before we went. I figured I’d probably study all of the wrong sites and I’d learn more if I just went and listened. Instead, we boarded the bus (actually, it was more like a van) to find out that this was a “go and do your own thing” trip.

With nothing more than a rough printed copy of Cambridge to work with, we headed off toward the university campus and the more historic sites of Cambridge (John at least pointed us in that direction). And, this turned out to be one of my favorite adventures so far. We walked along the streets until we saw something interesting. We stopped in a local grocery store, Sainsbury’s, to buy some milk chocolate digestive crackers (which we all snarfed right down). We fed the ducks along the river Cam at King’s college. Wes particularly enjoyed that part! We stayed there for at least half an hour and fed them Cheese-it crackers.

We pretty much saw all of the courtyards of all of the different colleges that are part of Cambridge University. Cambridge University isn’t laid out the way an American University is. It is a conglomeration of smaller “colleges” that dot the entire city. At first, we thought we were seeing a bunch of smaller city colleges or high schools. We kept looking for something that said CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY, but only saw it once, written on an obscure door in an alleyway stating that that particular door went to the Cambridge University Anthropology society. It wasn’t until later that we discovered that all of the little colleges (Trinity College, Christ’s College, St. John’s College and King’s College) were all a part of one big university. I don’t know why it continually surprises me to learn that the British do things differently. You’d think I’d come to expect it now. But, I’m still floored every time my assumptions are wrong.

While out on our adventures, we were privileged to see King’s College Church. It was absolutely huge. We decided not to go in at that particular time, mainly because they were charging 5 pounds per person, and we didn’t have that many pounds on us. We decided to go and feed the ducks behind the church instead. I think we ended up having more fun doing that. Weslee was tired of sitting still in his stroller by that time anyway.

I will say that while Cambridge was absolutely bustling with college students, riding bikes and walking, and the city is alive with things to do and see…the huge cathedrals and old stone churches simply can’t compare with the charm of the small town parish churches around Mildenhall. The old stone churches in Cambridge are impossibly cramped between malls and shopping centers, their headstones in their cemeteries crowded around their foundations like so many sentries. Many of them are closed to visitors. The warmth and familiarity that is present in so many of the country churches vanishes in such places. It was impossible to capture any good photos of them from the tight alleyways that surrounded their grounds. Occasionally I’d snap a tall stone tower reaching for the blue sky out of the darkness…but I was never able to capture any real charm or majesty from any of those churches.

But when it was all said and done, we walked around almost every nook and cranny of the historic part of Cambridge. We even stopped in “Christ’s Pieces” park at the heart of it all and let Weslee play for a while. It was a nice, leisurely visit. We’ll come back and tour it all…but for today, we enjoyed strolling and looking. We’re glad we got to go.

Nov 19- Emotions

2008-12-04T07:18:00.000-08:00

This move has been a literal roller coaster for me. There have been the ups of excitement as we’ve traveled to new and exciting places. Today we went to Cambridge, for instance. The thrill of standing in front of buildings that are older than our entire country never ceases to get me going. I live for the adventure and history here. It is amazing. Just when I think I’m becoming desensitized to the moss-covered, 900 year old beauty of the abbeys here…something like King’s College Church at Cambridge University catches me and takes my breath away. I sit in awe of all of the wonders that surround me at every turn. I feel abundantly blessed to get to spend so much time here and take it all in. There are not many Americans that get this unique gift and pleasure.

Then, the very next moment I’m seized with the stress of trying to figure out how to pay for our housing. We have the money, but converting it from dollars to pounds in large quantities has been a struggle. First, we had the wrong kind of ATM card. We had to call our bank and have them send the right kind. Then, I’ve struggled to pull the amount of money out of the ATM that we’ll need for our down payment. Our bank has said that it can be done (and luckily, it finally did happen today) but actually making it happen has been a stress. And, tomorrow, I’ll go and change the cash into a cashier’s check for Friday’s meeting with the estate agent. And, all the while we’re trying to figure out how to pay for the housing, we’re praying that the housing office on base doesn’t kick us out or force us into base housing. Now that I’ve written this stressful event on paper, it doesn’t appear so stressful. It seems kind of silly. But, for the last couple of weeks, this is the thing that has weighed most heavily on my mind. Having the money in hand now has helped me to feel so much better. Now I’m just praying that I don’t somehow misplace it between now and Friday.

And, later in the same day I’ll suddenly feel elation again…that we’re about to be settled, that the weather is sunny, that I’m finally adjusted to the new time zone, that I’m making so many friends at church (I’ve never been in a more welcoming ward…seriously…these people are amazing) and in our neighborhood (we know several families in our new neighborhood in Mildenhall already…just ran into them accidentally), that Christmas is just around the corner, and that we’re here together as a family. I’ll feel the abundance of blessings wrap around me like a blanket.

But, wouldn’t you know that not 30 minutes later I’m feeling cramped in my tiny Temporary Living Facility room with my son going bonkers because there’s nothing to do but terrorize the cat and eat. (Yes, Weslee eats out of boredom sometimes. He roams around the hotel room saying “cereal….cereal….juice….cereal…bite…please”. We’re all feeling cabin crazy! I think there isn’t a single one of us that can’t wait for more room to move and run around in. The cat, especially, has taken to being CRAZY hyper in the middle of the night. I can’t wait to get that cat to a place where she can explore the outdoors again.

And then, night comes. It gets quiet. Kevin and I talk and read scriptures and pray. And, in the still I count my blessings once again. I get excited for the next day and the adventures ahead. I lay my head on my pillow, excited to wake and experience life again. I just hope that when it’s all said and done in a few more days, that life will mellow and I’ll feel like I’m a little more balanced and less of a crazy person.

Bury St. Edmunds

2008-11-14T13:33:00.001-08:00

Wednesday was our second great adventure here in the UK. We went with a "newcomers tour" to Bury St. Edmunds, a larger town near our base. We totally enjoyed ourselves. We started the tour on a big bus, winding down what looked to me like a sidewalk with cars driving on it. There were several times I thought the bus was either going to whack a road sign or an oncoming car. The whole trip, the bus was brushing up against the hedges growing alongside the road. The whole while, our tour guide, a seasoned military member, gave us the history of the area, dating back from the Roman time period and told us about his adventures in the pubs and with his metal detector. Apparently, it's a popular passtime to go out with a metal detector and look for old artifacts. The tour guide reminded us that because Britain is so small and so old, there isn't a square mile that hasn't been lived upon at some time or another. The country side is literally littered with coins, brass clasps, arrowheads, and other valuable artifacts. All finds must be reported to the British governement. If they decide it's of national importance, they pay you for the find and display it in a museum somewhere. If not, you get to keep it. Our guide (who also happens to be one of our new neighbors in Mildenhall...surprise!) has found tons of coins that he makes necklaces and other jewelry out of for his friends and family. Kevin and I are thinking about renting one and seeing what we can find for family night sometime. It'll be fun just to be out in some random field with the detector.

When we finally got to Bury, we stopped first at the Nutshell. It is the Guiness Book of World Records holder for being the smallest pub in the world. 10 people can comfortably fit inside around the counter (which is pretty much all the pub is...a counter)...but they have crammed over 100 people in the pub at once for fun. Seriously, after seeing the pub, I can only guess they must have sat on one another to get that many people in there.

After the Nutshell, we headed to St. Edmundsbury Cathedral. It's only recently become a cathedral. It used to only be a parish church. It still serves the parish, but has been fitted with a tower (actually, the tower is still being built along with the double buttress roof). There are scaffolds all over the place where the workers are reroofing the building. The tower is actually quite special to the people of Bury. The mason who created the tower taught his crew a 500 year old art of masonry to make the tower the way the masons would have made it back when the church was built. Each piece of rock had to be measured twice...once on the computer and once with a tape measure, because the rocks had to fit together perfectly. It cost them 12 million dollars to build. The government only funded half of the money. The people in the parish had to raise the rest. Most of the money actually came from the United States. The church has strong ties to the Magna Carta (the basis for our Constitution) and many of the first settlers to the USA came from Bury St. Edmunds. In fact, the founder of Jamestown...the one who raised the money and hand selected the first voyagers (including John Smith) came from the parish in Bury St. Edmunds. His daughter was the vicar's wife. Another interesting thing about the cathedral is that it was built (or at least the parish church was built) for the parishoners because the abby was too busy taking care of pilgrims that came to pray at the tomb of St. Edmunds (an early king that was martyred by the Danes because he wouldn't renounce his God). Myth has it that he was beheaded and when the peasants were looking for his head to bury with his body, a wolf called out to them in Latin, "over here, over here". The wolf had the king's head between his paws and allowed the peasants to take it (and he didn't try to eat it). The wolf stayed in the village for the duration of the funeral and then departed, never to be heard from again. Myth also has it that when they put the head with the body, his head reattached itself to his neck straightway. His body was supposedly dug up in the medieval time period to see if, in fact, it did reconnect, and reports were that it did. However, no one knows where his body is now, so they can't check it again. St. Edmunds used to be the patron saint of England and there is talk of making him the patron saint again...but who knows what will happen.

During the tour, Weslee began to have stomach problems and soon afterwards, began having explosive diapers. I was the lucky one holding him at the time. We left the tour group to change his diaper before any more of the goo got on my jacket (I smelled horrible the rest of the trip). While changing his diaper, the tour group moved on, leaving me alone...and lost. Weslee and I walked around the outside of the cathedral for a good 10 minutes...and even into the ruins behind the cathedral searching for the group of 12. When we didn't find them, we headed back to the front door (mainly because Weslee had exploded out of his diaper yet again...why, oh why didn't I think to bring extra pants for him?) and found the group looking for us. Kevin was good enough to take the kid and the explosive diaper off of my hands. I tried to get the goo off of me as best as I could with a wipe. Wipes do great things for getting goo off of baby's bums...but not so great with cordurouy jackets. Oh well. The group was pretty understanding.

After the cathedral, we headed to the Queen's Arms (another pub) for the best lunch I've had here so far. I had a chicken bacon sandwich on a "grainy" (a whole wheat baguette). Seriously...it was some of the best food I've had in a while. I am in love with English bacon. It's thick like Canadian bacon and salty and greasy like American bacon. Not healthy, I'm sure. Oh, but it was delicious. I'm sure my entire meal wasn't exactly healthy...I don't think Brits are known for their healthy foods...my baguette was smothered in really good mayo.

We spent the rest of the day touring the ruins of the humongous abbey that was torn down during King Henry VIII's reign. All that's left is the flint that filled the thick walls. Everything else was taken by the villagers to build their homes and garden walls. So, in essence, the abbey is still in Bury...it's just spread all over the place. We also toured St Mary's church, which is smaller and darker than the cathedral. But, I liked the interior a little more. The dark, rich wood made it seem more comfortable and less imposing that the stark white limestone of the cathedral. It seemed more "homey".

On our way back to the bus, we hit the market. There were so many things I wanted to stop and look at and possibly purchase...but we were just barely going to make our bus back home. I quickly purchased 2 pints of raspberries from a vendor on our way out. 2 pints for 1 pound 50 pence...or roughly 3 dollars. I thought I had scored big since a pint of raspberries at the commissary is $3.50. We enjoyed crepes later that night with lots of fresh berries. They were delicious. We had heard (and now we agree) that the open markets in the little villages around here are the only places to shop for fruits and veggies. They are so much cheaper and taste so much better.

Anyway...the last picture is a funny sign I saw right before the bus stop. "Fatty Bun Buns". In the states, someone would shoot you if you named your sandwich shop that...and they certainly wouldn't come and purchase your sandwiches. If you look closely, the lady in front of the shop actually looks shocked...likes she's been caught doing something she didn't want to be caught doing (like eating a sandwich that will give you fatty bun buns). It makes me laugh, and so it's included here.

Tuesday- Norwich Castle

2008-11-12T12:49:00.000-08:00

Weslee and Kevin outside the castle gates. Weslee had JUST woken up from a quick nap on Kevin's shoulder.

They had so many armour suits on display. This one caught my particular interest because it's what you picture when you read a fairy tale.

This was a REALLY DEEP well in the "keep" of the castle. This well serviced the inmates in prison as well as those servants that worked downstairs for the king. Seriously, this picture doesn't do it justice. You wouldn't want to fall down this well.

Weslee looking out at Norwich from the windows in the castle's medieval restrooms. They constructed a whole hallway of toilets for the inmates to use in medieval times (which I thought was rather humane for those times). There were four holes on two benches that faced eachother in each room (and there were several rooms) so that you could plausibly sit on the toilet facing someone else and pass the time just chatting it up. And, then I realized the toilets didn't flush and that there were probably rats...and I realized that maybe they didn't linger afterall.

We all "left our mark" on this piece of stone at the museum with a dull metal oval just like the inmates used to do. Weslee particularly enjoyed it and actually spent a good deal of time here while we read about the suits of armor and weapons. It was nice to get to read something.

Weslee and Kevin inside the toilet hallway. Notice how short the doorway is and how narrow the hallway is.

This was another thing that interested Weslee for a long time. Each of these silver things is a radio type device. You push the button and put the silver thing to your ear. A voice tells his or her story while they were in the dungeons. Weslee thought they were phones and listened intently while we read about the burial rituals of some of the Anglo-Saxons in the area.

Truthfully, we had meant to see more in Norwich, but there were several reasons this did not happen. First, we woke up late. We're still having trouble getting on a good solid sleeping schedule. Second, we had to rent a car, fill it up with gas, and find our way on streets that are alien to us. Third, um...well, we're driving on the wrong side of the street, for crying out loud. I am so glad that Kevin decided to drive today. I am still SO NERVOUS about getting in a car and travelling at 60 miles per hour past large semis on roads that are little bigger than a sidewalk. It's insane. I poked fun at Kevin as he ran over a couple of curbs and such...but I KNOW we would have been much worse off if I had done the driving. He did an excellent job of navigating round abouts in the middle of the freeway, tons and tons of pedestrian shoppers crossing the streets at random times in Norwich in the shopping district close to the castle, and in general getting us where we had hoped to go.

Once we parked in Norwich (which is a pretty large city...it used to be the second largest city in England, second only to London). Now, it has a reputation for being small and "back-woodsy". But the truth is, and any Norwich citizen will tell you, they are liberal. More so than practically anywhere else in the country. It is a metropolitan area that has all of the modern conveniences. It's within a 30 mile drive of Great Yarmouth at the beach...and it draws people from all over. We'll definitely be coming back...not just because our stake center is here, but because it's just a really cool city, full of history.

Today, we chose to see the castle, mainly because it was the building we actually found. We walked around the city for 30 minutes looking for it and finally found it. We got there late and were able to pay the cheap price to just "pop in" for a pound. We saw almost the whole museum, though we didn't get to read everything. But, then in reality...we probably wouldn't have gotten to with a child anyhow.

Tuesday- Wymondham

2008-11-12T12:32:00.000-08:00

Many people here have favorites villages. Some like them because of a particular pub. Some like them because of the shopping. Wymondham was a small village just south of Norwich that I had found on the internet last night. The pictures of the abbey drew me in and I had to go see it. We stopped to see it before heading into Norwich. After viewing the abbey, the old rustic homes, and seeing the local countryside...I may have found a favorite village of my own.

The abbey is an imposing building, built in 1106 by Normans. It used to be much larger, but was partially destroyed when Henry VIII declared the separation of England from the Catholic church. The monastery was sold off, the monks kicked out, and eventually, the monastery (the only remains of which are the arch way you can see in some of the pictures) fell into ruins. The abbey still functions as the town's parish church.

It was terribly cold, or we would have stayed longer. Weslee's hands and lips began to turn blue. Kevin and Wes headed back to the car early while I took a few more pictures. This, so far, has been my favorite building to take pictures of. In a matter of a hour, it changed its face so many times, it was like shooting a different building with each frame. As the sun came out and shone upon the lovely limestone and fall trees surrounding it, it looked like it positively glowed. At other times, when the sun would hide momentarily behind a cloud, it looked almost gothic and gloomy. Very interesting and very fun. We're thinking of returning here in December for their 30th annual Dickensian Evening ringing in the Christmas season in quaint village style.

Tuesday- Thetford Forest

2008-11-12T12:18:00.001-08:00

We woke up today feeling adventurous. It was an American holiday and Kevin didn't have to go to work, so we hiked the mile to the nearest car rental facility (with car seat, stroller, diaper bags and camera in hand), rented a VW Jetta and headed out on the open road. It was a gorgeous day and wonderful for our first real outting as a family. I can't tell you what incredible freedom I felt, being in a car with just my family, going where I wanted to go at the time I wanted to go. Weslee, as usual, was a fabulous traveler. We just kept handing him "tooties" (known to the rest of the world as graham crackers) while we were driving, and he was a happy man.

On Sunday, as I mentioned previously, I became enamored with Thetford forest. It's a lovely forest that stretches for miles around here. We had to drive straight through the heart of it on our way to Norwich (where we had decided to go for the day. We spent a good portion of last night researching the things we wanted to do and see at the Community Center the night before). The colors in the forest are breathtaking right now. Kevin found a little road that went into the denser portion of the trees and we pulled off to take some pictures.

The sun was streaming through the golden leaves on the trees and the amber ones lying on the soft ground. The ground was so soft, it felt like you were walking on a pile of carpets. The air smelled like wet vegetation, slowly rotting, but not unpleasant (remember, it's been raining all week...and is generally moist here anyway). The leaves continuously fell, one at a time, from the boughs onto the ground. I felt like I was in an Elf kingdom in the Lord of the Rings series. I wondered if forests like these were the inspiration for J.R.R. Tolkien when he wrote about wood elves. It was enchanting. I think we'll return, in all of the various seasons. You can get lost there...both physically, and just mentally. It was wonderful.

Monday- Mr. Personality

2008-11-12T11:38:00.000-08:00

Weslee is surprising us everyday with his “toddler-ness”. Everything is big in his world. He plays big…throwing his arms all over the place, throwing toys (in a playful way), running around, and laughing these huge, fake, cheesy laughs with his mouth wide open. His emotional swings can sometimes be big…one minute giggling like crazy, and the next throwing himself on the floor and screaming in anger just to get up in another minute to run around and play like nothing ever happened. Half the time, I’m exhausted just keeping up with the mood du jour. And, of course, now that he’s talking more and stringing words together a little better, there is the constant chatter. He talks to strangers one minute, shouting “HI!!!” as we enter a quiet room, and the next, he’s hiding his head between my legs in embarrassment. It has been fascinating to watch. My baby isn’t a baby anymore. He’s becoming a little boy.

With his growing up has come the ability to work the system. We figured out yesterday that he can convincingly “cry” at the drop of a hat, just to turn it off the minute he gets what he wants. Seriously, this kid can pull a face that will melt your heart and make you think that he has cut himself or something. Tears are also sometimes involved. Kevin came up with a solution. We now have the “whining/crying corner” in our hotel room. It is a wonderful invention for both parent and child. When Weslee begins whining, we simply take his hand and lead him to this corner (and believe it or not, he will actually walk there himself and sit down with his back against the bathroom door). Here he can whine, cry, wail…whatever…to his heart’s content. But, there’s a catch…he can’t cry, whine, or wail anywhere else unless he’s really hurt. The other catch is that Kevin and I go about our day while he’s in this corner. We don’t pay any attention to him other than the sideways glances when he’s not looking to make sure he’s safe. We tell him when he goes there that he can come out as soon as he’s done. An astonishing thing has happened…the whining has pretty well stopped. No more dramatic crying. No more incessant whining. He’s not getting any more attention when he does it, so it’s not fun anymore. And, we have our happy Weslee back.

The one time he’s had to go there today lasted only a couple of seconds. He began his Hollywood cry when I didn’t get the juice fast enough. Instead of getting ticked and preaching to him about not whining, I just took his hand and led him to the whining corner, looked him in the eye and told him I’d love to get him some juice when he was done crying. Seriously, the kid turned it off in 5 seconds flat…before I had even made it to the kitchen counter again, wiped the tears and said “Doos peas?” I got him juice and he didn’t whine anymore. It really is amazing. A spark of genius from Heavenly Father. It's making our house a peaceful place again, saving my sanity, and helping me feel like a better mom by helping me respond to Weslee in a more loving way.

Sunday- Stake Conference in Norwich

2008-11-12T11:31:00.000-08:00

Today was a gorgeous, sunny day…the first we’ve seen in over a week. Melvin and Sharia, two ward members here, gave us a ride to Stake conference over an hour away. Sharia didn’t come because one of her children is sick, so we met Melvin and his 2 year old daughter. The drive was gorgeous. The kids stayed busy watching Dora the Explorer, which left time for me to really view the beautiful countryside.

The trees are all changing colors…vibrant golds, oranges, and reds. Little parish churches are set amongst the trees, and historic houses, making the whole drive feel like a painting. It was a joy to just sit and watch the fields and forests go by. Kevin and Melvin talked in the front seats while I took it all in sitting in the back.

Our stake seems like a good mix of British and American personnel. Our ward, we found out, is huge. 270 strong, 80 percent of those are American military personnel. Our primary is over 100 strong and the nursery is bursting at the seams. A typical military ward, it sounds like. I feel good about it. When we first thought about where we’d like to be, I thought I might like to be in a ward that was mostly British. But, we’re in a British neighborhood, and we’ll have plenty of time and ability to make British friends. It will be nice to have ward members that will understand the life of an American military member living overseas. I hope that many of them are glad to be here and can tell me about their exciting travels.

I’ve met too many military spouses on base who don’t like it here and have nothing but negative to say about being in the UK. Some complain about lack of conveniences. Some complain that everything is too expensive. Some complain that we’re just too removed from it all. Yeah, there are some inconveniences here…and yeah…things are expensive, to be sure. But, I’m hoping that when someone asks me a year from now how I like it, I can honestly tell them that this is a wonderful place and that I’ve taken a lot of good from the experience.

Kevin’s sponsor here is one of the few people I’ve heard who are totally positive about living in the UK. He has nothing but good to say about the Brits, the food, the travel, the countryside, and his house. He has a saying that has stuck with me and I hope to live by it. “Your stay here will be exactly what you expect it to be”. Basically, the UK is what you make of it. If you decide to travel, rub shoulders with the Brits, and enjoy the experience, realizing it’s not forever…you’ll love it. But, if you decide to dwell on everything you miss from home…you’ll hate it. The choice is yours. I hope to seize the opportunity to have a truly British experience and love every minute of it.

Speaking of British experiences, I made my first batch of scones tonight (Thanks, Janene for the scone mixes!). They were maple cinnamon flavor. We ate them with fresh butter and maple syrup and had some wonderful hot cocoa to go with it. Ahhhh.... delicious.

Friday and Saturday- Sick

2008-11-12T11:29:00.000-08:00

I guess I should have known it was coming. With the time change, the stress, and the lack of sleep…it was only a matter of time before someone in this house got sick. Weslee was the first. He came down with a fever and diarreaha on Friday morning. He got a horrible rash on his bum which made it all worse. I ended up having to go and purchase some more Desitin because although I know I packed diaper rash supplies somewhere in our six humongous bags of stuff…I can’t find it anywhere. I don’t know where I put it. I’m even beginning to have doubts that I brought it at all. Perhaps it got sent to storage by accident. Oh well. We have fresh supplies now.

I was the next to come down with it. I didn’t ever run a fever, but I felt awful. Kevin was sweet and let me sleep much of the day on Saturday. I slept in until 1pm. I was only awake a couple of hours before I needed to sleep again. I slept while Weslee napped. And, by the time I awoke, the sun had already gone down, at 4:30 pm! So, Saturday was a day in which I never saw the sun.

It had some bad consequences for us. I get cabin fever pretty easily…and we found out tonight that Weslee does too. We kept him inside today because it was raining and because all of us are exhausted and not feeling well. Well, even though he wasn’t in tip-top shape didn’t mean he didn’t have a ton of energy…and he took it out on every thing and every one he was near. The poor cat received several beatings from him, which annoyed and scared the cat and exasperated his parents. Kevin was almost whacked upside the head several times with the broom that Weslee was swinging around. And, by the end of the night, the whining alone would have driven anyone bonkers. I wondered at the end of the night if we would survive the next two weeks stuck in this tiny room until our house is ready for us to move into. I’m excited that tomorrow will get us out of the house. We’re headed to Stake Conference in Norwich.

15 Wamil Way, Mildenhall

2008-11-06T14:22:00.001-08:00

So, we finally settled on a house to live in...and this is it! 15 Wamil Way, Mildenhall.

As with all European houses, it's tiny...but oh, it's so charming. Even it's quirks (things that would NOT be good in the United States, but are perfectly normal in Europe) enhance the charm of the house. The house has a rock exterior and a timber interior covered in plaster. This means that over the hundred or more years since it's been built (and it's had it's remodellings over time to make it more modern, don't worry), it's settled...which means that the upstairs floors have twisted a bit and have left the floor a little uneven in places. We'll have to build up our bed with cinderblocks and other things to level it out. The entire property is surrounded by a rock wall (which makes it nice for Weslee and the cat...they'll both be safe). It has a wood burning stove that is both functional and decorative. We'll have to get a grate for that to protect Weslee from getting too curious.

The garden is my favorite part. It's surrounded by perennial flowers and herbs. The woman doesn't mind if we plant veggies. It's just beautiful. It's also nice that it's only minutes from base, minutes from the doctor's office, right in the heart of an English village with a beautiful abbey and tons of cute shops and pubs. It's just a short drive to Lakenheath where the commissary and BX are. Probably the farthest we'll have to travel for necessary things is to church in Thetford, 20 minutes away. (Really, the roads are known for being dangerous around here...so you don't want to take public transport...the bus station is within walking distance too...as much as possible.)

It has 3 bedrooms (one of them is little more than a box), plenty of storage, believe it or not (there's an attic, a shed, and all sorts of cubbies throughout the house), and a cute kitchen. Any of you who come to visit will be shocked by how teensy all of the British appliances are. The fridge looks like a dorm fridge. The washer looks like you can only fit one pair of pants in it at a time. So...this should be interesting. Definitely a new way of life, and we're excited to experience it.

We were so happy to get this house. There were alot of other people looking at it...and several seriously considering renting it. Period houses (or remodelled historic homes) generally don't come for rent often. People, once they settle in them, generally stay put. So, we're so happy that we get to live in one for our stay here. We won't get to move in for another 2 weeks as the landlords need to paint, clean up the garden a bit, and move the rest of their stuff out. The pictures above are from the agent's listing online and you can see all of the owner's furnishings. When we went to look at the house, they were all gone, but there were a few odds and ends left in the cubbies and storage areas. The base also has to conduct a safety inspection to make sure it meets certain safety requirements (like smoke detectors, fire alarms, no lead pipes, etc.)

Anyway, we hope to invite many of you into this home and that we'll have many good memories here as a family and with all of you!

Wednesday- Houses, Security, and Rudolph!!

2008-11-06T14:18:00.000-08:00

Today was a busy day. Kevin was informed yesterday that he was scheduled for security briefings at his squadron during the time we had allotted for house viewing. This was a bit of a problem because transportation is hard to come by here and the only time the housing agent could take us to view houses was during Kevin’s briefings. The security briefings couldn’t be delayed and so, I went house hunting alone.

At first, I was going to take Weslee with me to see houses. But, he went to bed at a weird hour last night and woke up really early and wasn’t happy when he greeted the morning. Kevin decided to take him so that I could pay attention to the different houses and use more scrutiny when finding us a place to live for the next few years.

In the morning, we drove out west, first to a little farming community called Burnt Fen. The house we were supposed to look at out there said that it was close to base but “away from it all”. I think they emphasized the “close to base” part too much and didn’t put enough emphasis on just how “away from it all” it really was. After a 15 minute journey down the most dangerous road in the area (there have been 7 military fatalities on that road in the last few years. That alone was making me have some second thoughts about Burnt Fen as a housing option for us), we turned off the main highway onto a deeply potholed dirt road that went on for what seemed like forever. The agent jokingly remarked that she hoped our car had 4 wheel drive if we planned to move out there. The exterior of the house itself was cute. It had a long row of black berry bushes lining the fence, a gorgeous view in all directions of the fen (which is basically very fertile, black soiled farmlands) and a big front yard. But, I nearly killed myself walking up to the front door. The sidewalk was covered in a slimy moss. And, the moment we opened the door to the freezing house, I knew it wasn’t the house for us (as if the million other warnings before hadn’t been enough). It smelled rotten and dank inside. As we viewed the bedrooms, you could tell that the radiator was leaking. The agent kept talking about the gorgeous views and how she’d like to wake up every morning to those views. I was still looking at the huge, wet stain on the carpet and thinking about the horrid smell. It also crossed my mind that I would be the only person alive out there for miles…and it was a frightening thought, particularly when Kevin is deployed. I quickly told her that I didn’t think it was the right property for us. She accepted that with little complaint and we moved on to the next property, even further west (on the same treacherous road) in Littleport.

In Littleport (such a cute little hamlet), we saw two houses. One was completely unfit for renting. The house itself was in good repair, but it was on a VERY busy highway and the fence had all sorts of holes in it. Wes could have just run out the back door and into the highway. The agent told me that all of the houses the military rent have to go through a “safe living” inspection before we can rent them. She said that the house had too many large problems and that it wouldn’t pass the inspection. We moved on without doing more than looking inside the windows at the property. Honestly, if we were purchasing a house, it would have been a good home. The problems would have taken time to fix, but would have been worth it if we were planning to own the home. Like I said, the house itself was a gorgeous, well taken care of, Victorian style home. The other house was more modern and honestly, I loved it. It was spacious, cute, had a great back lawn and a ton of parking. It had a giant kitchen for the UK and even a green house out back. At the end of the morning, if I had to choose a house, I would have taken this one. I could picture our family there. The only problem was that Littleport wasn’t close to ANYTHING. We would have had to drive 20 minutes to the base where Kevin works. 35 minutes to the base where we will buy groceries and other supplies. 45 minutes to the base where Cricket will get veterinary care and 30 minutes to church. The expense of gas would have killed us and we again, prefer to use that money to actually tour the country instead of just touring (over and over again every day) the same stretch of road.

When I returned home from my morning of house hunting, the CUTEST sight awaited me! Kevin wasn’t able to take Weslee with him to his briefing, so one of the staff took Weslee to a place on base and kept him busy for a couple of hours. When Kevin picked him up, she said they had “gotten creative” with some of the supplies in the room. He looked like a little Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer with pipe cleaner antlers and a red nose. I couldn’t quit taking pictures when they got home! I know he’s my kid…but I can’t help saying it…he is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!

Later in the afternoon, while Weslee was taking a nap, (Kevin stayed at the room with Wes while I toured the properties), Kevin’s sponsor took me to see two more houses. We saw one 20 minutes north in Brandon first. I had loved the pictures of this house. It was a really large, red brick home with beautiful landscaping. The location wasn’t terrible. It was basically in the middle of everything. Not terribly close to anything in particular, but a short driving time from everything that’s important to us. However, the landlord was ambiguous about the rent, kept changing her mind about the deposit amount, and mentioned that she would be coming to Brandon (this was her retirement home when she was done with the military…she was American) every month to check on things. I just didn’t feel right about it. I loved the house. The neighborhood seemed nice. But honestly, the whole thing seemed like it could be a real financial hassle. So, I moved on, even before seeing the next house.

The next house was in Mildenhall. I’ll be honest. I had already fallen in love with this house before ever visiting it. I kept going back to it on the Right Move website to look at the pictures. After touring it, I loved it even more. When I returned home, I told Kevin all about it and he wanted to see it immediately. We scheduled a time for tomorrow to view the property and decide for sure if it’s the one for us.

Tuesday- Welcome to Mildenhall

2008-11-06T14:17:00.000-08:00

Today we spent almost the entire day at a briefing acquainting us with Mildenhall and its various amenities. We met the base commander, the chief master sergeant, and several of the other leaders around the base. The meeting itself was a little dry, but I loved listening to the various British speakers talk. I could sit and listen to them for hours. I love the changes in the lingo, how the make almost all of their vowels long, and how they swallow their t’s and g’s (such as “flagh” instead of flight, and “houzin” instead of housing.) I find myself imitating them without even really realizing it. Mostly, I repeat what they’ve said over and over again in my head. And then, it just slips out when I’m talking and, even though they don’t bat an eye, I feel kind of silly, fake and stupid. But, they seem to understand you a lot better when you use their lingo. My favorite words right now are “keen” (meaning you like something a lot), to “nip out” (meaning you just left the building or stepped out to run an errand) as in “Oh, Katherine just nipped out with a customer, but she should return soon”, and “Cheers!” (meaning anything from thanks, to you’re welcome, to goodbye). Cheers is really a word that can stand in for just about any acknowledgement to another human being.

We had to bring Weslee with us to the briefing. He was really well behaved…again. Thank goodness! But, because he needed a nap, Weslee and I only stayed for the first half of the day. Kevin had to go back after lunch for another 3 hours of talk. While he was there, he found out more about the very lengthy procedure to get a house (which is good because we are looking at houses tomorrow), signed us all up for health care, and basically learned more about how to get reimbursed for the myriad of moving expenses we’ve incurred.

This has been one expensive move! But, after we’ve been reimbursed, it won’t have been too bad. I have been really baffled though, wondering how many military families pay for it all. A lot of our moving expenses have required cash…and some of them have required UK currency and UK cashier’s checks, which means that suddenly your dollar loses half of its purchasing power because of the 1.68 to 1 (dollars to pounds) exchange ratio here. If you’re not careful, it can really take a toll on your pocketbook. But, when it’s all said and done, it will even out and we’ll be back to living life as normal.

Monday- The Bird in Hand

2008-11-06T14:16:00.001-08:00

OK…I’m a bit miffed because I wrote this wonderful post on Monday, only to have the internet kick out on me (and I didn’t notice that it wasn’t saving) and I lost the entire post. This is the short and sweet version (which some of you may be glad of).

Tonight, our big accomplishment is that we went to an English Pub, “The Bird in Hand”. We had heard good things about it from a coworker, and it was close enough that we could walk to it. We were pretty clueless about the whole thing. There are lots of “traditions” in an English pub. They have a set of unspoken rules basically and most people from outside the country…including other Europeans are pretty clueless on their first visit. We were no exception.

First off, there are no waiters. You come in, find a table, figure out what you want and go to the bar to order it. A bunch of blokes casually drinking may strike up a conversation with you while you order, and you are expected to join in the chat. You pay for the meal right then and there. You then return to your table. Then, they bring it out to you when it’s ready. Now, food isn’t ready quickly here in Europe like it is in the states. It took a good 30 minutes (and the pub was pretty empty when we went) to get our food.

Next, we did bring Weslee with us because an English pub is nothing like an American bar…except for the alcoholic beverages part of it. Europeans get “merry”, not drunk. They might have a pint, a little pub grub and call it an evening. You rarely see an English person sloppy drunk. The Americans, on the other hand, have quite the reputation (here and in the states) for overdoing it. However, the English pub is intended to be the “neighborhood living room”. Although there is a bar where alcoholic beverages are served, the atmosphere isn’t wild or crass. It feels like a bunch of friends gathered together for an evening…and some of them just happen to be drinking. Some of you still may be appalled that I brought Weslee into this atmosphere…but to let you know how family friendly it is intended to be…we ordered chicken nuggets off the CHILD’S MENU for Weslee. It’s just the English way of life. Many people in there were drinking lemonade or tea. They did look at us like we were crazy when we ordered water with our meal. Apparently, that just doesn’t happen a lot. Personally, it’s generally too much for me to have fried food (I had the fish and chips) and soda. I would have felt terrible the rest of the evening. As it stood…I felt pretty lousy anyway. I ate probably a pound of fried fish…uuuugh!

The third thing that left us bewildered is tipping. In the USA, you are considered absolutely beyond rude if you stiff someone a tip at a restaurant. As long as the waitress actually brought you food and drinks, you generally tip. Here in the UK, the Brits are more shy about money and you generally don’t tip at a pub. We have found out that you can leave a small tip (we’re talking like 5 percent) if you really enjoyed the food and it won’t embarrass them. But, they’ll just think you insane if you leave much more than that. At the end of our meal, we debated back and forth about the tip. We sat and watched everyone else for a little while and finally noticed that no one was leaving them. So, we didn’t either. I felt so guilty leaving that restaurant, only to find out that what I did is customary. A lot of the Americans here will leave small tips because it saves them the guilt feelings afterwards. We may do this as well.

Anyway, that was our pub experience. We came hungry. We left absolutely stuffed and happy. It was a good experience, and one we’ll probably repeat…next time a bit more confidently.

Dog Hunt

2008-11-03T02:57:00.000-08:00

This was supposed to be Sunday's post. Wrote it last night in a Word document since I couldn't log into our silly account here (the web browser was overloaded). So, now I'm cutting and pasting it here. Enjoy.

Like I said in a previous post, we are in a temporary living facility. We are so happy to have a place to stay. But, in the same breath, I don’t think we’ll spend too many sleepless nights missing this place. The rooms are situated in such a way that two rooms can be made into one for larger families by opening a door in our living room. I think this was a stroke of brilliance on the hotel’s part. But, they forgot one important detail…they didn’t insulate the door. And then, to ensure that neighbors became great friends…they put the dog kennels in each room right by the doors. We set our kennel on the porch and, wouldn’t you know it, that was the only practical place for the pack-n-play for Weslee.

Our neighbor has two Jack Russell Terriers that sound like the meanest dogs alive outside, and do nothing but howl the rest of the day. I guess you could say that when it comes to dogs, I’m like the Grinch. My heart is three times too small. Personally, I’d like to duct tape their little yappers shut!

This sentiment mostly springs from the fact that Weslee has had the hardest time adjusting to the new time change of all of us. For the last week, no matter how long we keep him up without a nap, he has fallen asleep at 7 or 8pm only to wake up exhausted, cranky, but WIDE AWAKE at midnight. He doesn’t fall asleep again until 3 am! Trying to get him to nap in the middle of the day is usually a challenge because he’s right next to the thin door with Crazy dog 1 and Crazy dog 2 howling an earsplitting tune. Ok…it’s not a challenge. It’s next to impossible!!! There have been several times over the last week that I’ve had “less than nice” thoughts about those dogs.

But, today has been better. Kevin cleverly discovered the fan over the “cooker”. It’s loud enough to kind of drown out the chorus of howls. Plus, we got a little smarter with our schedule today. We woke up early and woke Weslee up too…after only 6 hours of sleep. We got out and about. We got him out in the cool air and took him to the play zone at the community center to burn energy and watch the other kids. We took him, mainly, to help him forget that he was tired…and it WORKED! He stayed awake until after a late lunch and crashed for nearly 2 hours, even though the dogs must have been singing Handel’s Messiah during that time, it was so noisy! (Though, to be completely fair to the dogs, they ARE quiet at night. Thank goodness!)

After he woke up, we all got ready again and headed outdoors. We went to the community center again to have fun at the play zone. It really is such an awesome place for the kids. It’s a huge room of padded jungle gym…slides, climbing toys, all with 0-8 year olds in mind. Today it was a mad-house with over 50 kids packed into the room! I’ll post some pics when I have a better, and less frustrating connection.

(As an aside: Our internet goes off and on without warning here, as if some maniac is sitting someplace with a wireless router, turning it off and on, and chuckling to himself at the havoc he must be creating in the hotel rooms. The connection is so unpredictable that we wonder why there’s internet at all. Sometimes we’ll type in a web address and leave for a while. Sometimes, after 30 minutes of reading a book or cooking, we’ll hear the tell-tale “bing” sound that means our request has finally been processed. A little typing, and 15 minutes later, we can move on again. And, this process continues during the “slow” moments until our internet decides to be faster. Sometimes we have to hit the Refresh button a million times to get anything to show up at all. Kevin jokes that our internet has two speeds…slow and really slow. I would argue that there are 3. Slow, really slow, and non existent.)

We ended the evening walking around the entire base. We had meant to leave base, but found that all of the close gates were closed. There are some that are a mile or two away…but it’s still a little chilly out, though it feels so much more pleasant today than it has the previous week. So, now we know where everything is, and how to get there. Tomorrow, we will venture outside of our little military “cage” and see the British world.

Oh, and for those of you wondering why we didn’t attend church today, I can promise you it wasn’t from lack of trying. We have contacted the bishop of the Thetford ward (25 minutes away) quite a few times, left messages, the works. I’m guessing he’s out of town and his counselors don’t check the messages on his line. No one ever called us. We checked on bus schedules to get us from Mildenhall to Thetford. There are virtually no buses that run on Sundays. Sundays are still taken pretty seriously out here in the English countryside. EVERYONE goes to their parish to worship. We knew when church was, the address…everything. We just couldn’t find a way to get there. So, wish us luck for next week. Until we get a car and an English driver’s permit, we’re pretty much at the mercy of the public transport system and the few people we know.

John's Journeys

2008-11-03T02:54:00.000-08:00

This was supposed to be Saturday's post to the blog...but the stupid internet has been extra poopy over the weekend, so I'm catching up now. I wrote this in Word on Saturday and am pasting it in here now.

So, tonight Kevin watched the child while I walked around outside alone. It was raining, as I’ve been told it does A LOT around here. Luckily, I came prepared with an umbrella, which sheltered me most of the time, but would turn inside out with the wind pretty frequently. I heard a few people chuckle as I wrestled with it on the sidewalk while I got drenched. I thought that I would just walk and see where my feet took me. I had intended to stay outdoors for the course of my evening, but the rain (and the worthless umbrella) drove me indoors. I found myself in a building known as the Bob Hope Community Center.

There I met a delightful man by the name of John who kept calling me “love”. “Come right ‘round here, love, so you can see this map”. Anyway, John organizes frequent tours to the local hamlets to see historic abbeys and cathedrals and other buildings of interest. I asked him one question. “Is this where I go to book a tour, or is that in another building?” He went on for almost 2 hours about the different tours offered by more than 4 offices on the base. There are bus and plane tours offered by the “Information, Tickets, and Tours” office. We’re probably taking one of these tours on Saturday to London. There are outdoor and wildlife tours, usually hiking tours, offered by the Outdoor Recreation office. There are “getting used the the culture” tours offered by the Family Readiness Center. They only go one place: Bury St. Edmunds, but it’s free and it’s a tour. And then, there are the local history tours offered by my friend John…the one who called me “love”. They are called “John’s Journeys”. They last from April to October…although his last one is here in two weeks to Cambridge. We’ll probably be on that bus as well.

John told me about so much of the local history, loaded me up with London Underground maps and schedules, magazines about local entertainment and fun, and I went home with my head spinning. Since then, I’ve browsed the magazines and found out several things we would like to do this month. Some of them are a little more costly (what in Europe ISN’T costly?) and some of them are free. Nonetheless, there is more to do here than we will ever be able to see or do in the course of 3 years. I am excited to get started.

Halloween...or the lack thereof

2008-10-31T14:11:00.000-07:00

Today is Halloween. There's another 3 hours left in the day before the clock rolls around and declares November's birth. Despite my best efforts to prepare for this day for Weslee, it has come and gone without trick-or-treating, parties or events, though we do have a costume for Wes (he was supposed to be a jack-o-lantern this year...but we bought it a little big, so I guess he can wear it next year. We may take some pictures of him in it tomorrow for the grandmothers' benefit, if nothing else). We found out yesterday that the base's Halloween event for the kids was the day we arrived. Even if we had known about it, I wonder if we would have made it. We were so exhausted and it seemed that we could stay awake little more than a couple of hours at a time before falling again into a deep and dreamless sleep. Even Weslee, who usually protests against naps was happy to become better aquainted with his bed that day.

We asked about trick or treating. The Brittish do celebrate Halloween or All Hallow's Eve with going house to house for candy. But, after searching around for a while, we realized that it would be too far a walk to the nearest neighborhood from our current room (nearly 3 miles one way) to enjoy the candy gathering festivities. Plus, the temperatures are nearing freezing. We enjoyed a nice "winter mix" today for part of the afternoon. I really wasn't expecting Mildenhall to be so chilly. I even sent most of my sweaters and long-sleeved attire with the movers, thinking that I wouldn't really need it until closer to Christmas.

So, instead of going door to door in the freezing cold (and hiking 6 miles to do it on the narrow roads in the dark), we stayed home and made tacos. Then, we let Weslee eat mini Halloween oreos that we brought with us from the States to his heart's content while we searched the internet for houses in the area (not exactly the most fun way to spend Halloween...but still exciting in a certain sort of way).

I am so excited by what I see. There are so many cute homes that are within our price range. There are some I've fallen in love with even though I haven't seen them in person. We may end up with alot more room than we had at first thought (though those homes are quite a distance from base and would be very expensive to cover with utilities) or we may end up with a cute, and cozy little home closer to base and save the money from heating bills to go exciting places like the Swiss Alps and Italy. Who knows?

P.S. By the time I was done writing this post, Wes looked like he did in the last of the pictures. He found his "sheepie" and cuddled on the cold linoleum at my feet in the kitchen area and fell asleep. I didn't even notice him there (I was a little preoccupied) until Kevin pointed him out. He was using the sheep as a pillow and snoring softly as if he were in the most comfortable bed ever. So, this is what happens when you let a little kid eat 5 bags of mini oreos...they get hyper for about 10 minutes and jump around singing "bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, bite, please, bite, bite, bite" until they get it all out of their system and then they crash HARD! Goodnight and happy Halloween, Weslee!

Denae's Delicious Taco Dip

2008-10-31T13:42:00.000-07:00

This was a dip my friend, Denae, made for our going away party. She cooks alot like me, which goes something like this... "Hmmm, I need a taco dip and didn't buy any Velveeta. Oh well, I've got Mexican stuff on hand. We'll see what we can whip together". Thus, this recipe is just as Denae gave it to me, verbally, I might add. She apologized, like she always does, for using us as guinea pigs. I'm with her husband when he says that we must be the "best fed guinea pigs ever". It was an amazing dip. I haven't recreated it yet, but it's here so I won't forget it. If you're intimidated by recipes that include instructions that use terms like "throw in a little of" and "to taste", this recipe is not for you. I will try the recipe and try to post it later with more specific instructions. If you are daring enough to take the taco dip challenge with me though...this dip was WAY better than anything Velveeta ever made!

Ingredients:
Cream of chicken soup
Hamburger meat, browned and simmered in taco seasoning
Cream Cheese
Sour Cream
Small jar of cheese dip, just the plain cheese not with spices already in it...(on a personal note, I'm thinking it's like cheese whiz or something)
Colby Jack shredded cheese
Rotel tomatoes (you know, the canned stuff you usually combine with velveeta)

Directions (pretty much directly from Denae's mouth, but modified so I can understand them better):

Well, I just threw together all of the stuff and let it simmer in a crockpot until it was time for the party. I think I used one can of cream of chicken and just a jar of cheese dip I had laying around. It was the kind without the spices and stuff in it...just the plain cheese. I made hamburger meat like I was going to make it for tacos and just threw it in. Really, I just kept throwing stuff in that I thought would go together and make it cheesy and creamy.

Teri says while eating her fourth plate of dip: "I like it alot better...crunch, chomp, gulp..."

Denae: "Yeah, me too. I'm glad you like it".

Teri: smiles, gets more chips and dip.

Please read the instruction manual before using this appliance!

2008-10-29T20:50:00.001-07:00

So, after writing my last post, we happily went to the "baby commissary" as it's called here...mainly because it has a small supply of a whole lot of random things that really make no sense at all and it is, well, really small. We have "shoppettes" or "convenience stores" that are larger than this commissary. But, I am happy that there is some place to purchase food just a few footsteps from my hotel room. It makes it very nice and very convenient.

After purchasing a bunch of random edibles, we headed to the hotel room, where I would cook our finds into a lovely meal...complete with fruits and veggies...things I've missed over the past couple of days. After all, we have an oven right in our hotel room...pots and pans...everything I need...RIGHT?

Well, I guess that thinking was a bit naive considering that I AM in a foreign country, even though it doesn't really feel like it. One look at the oven, and I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't even figure out how to turn the darn thing on! The appliance has a note boldly written across it saying "Please read the instruction book before using this appliance". That should have been a dead give-away. But, honestly, I didn't even see the warning until after I had pushed all of the buttons and made a royal mess of things. Kevin handed me the instruction manual and I began some serious reading. After figuring out which cycle was the "normal" baking cycle (just curious...can any of you tell which one it is by the picture???) I realized I had even greater problems. The temperature is in centigrade. I suddenly wished that I had paid more attention to that portion of math class. We tried our best to figure out how to get the oven to 400 degrees. I'm still not sure I even got close.

But, to my credit, the oven eventually got hot. The chicken eventually cooked. And we, eventually ate. I guess that's all that matters immediately. But, I'm going to have to get this centigrade thing down if I want to attempt any real baking in the future.

Day 1, Sleep Walking

2008-10-29T10:02:00.000-07:00

Wes, during his "I don't mind seatbelts" phase of the trip. This lasted about 10 minutes and no longer. It was during our first flight from Omaha to Minneapolis. After this phase, the rest of the time was spent between "I want to climb all over this plane and talk to every person on it" and "leave me the heck alone so I can sleep" phases. The picture below was taken during the "WOW!" phase of the trip where he looked out the window at the earth below passing beneath our feet and kept turning to shout "WOW!" over and over again. We were nearing Minneapolis at this time.

Hello from the UK! We've been here a grand total of 31 hours. We landed yesterday at 7:15 am (UK time) looking like walking zombies and have maintained that look until 2pm today when we finally woke up and got ready for the day. Too bad by the time we got ready (at 3:30 pm) the sun is already going down. It gets dark here fast! Daylight doesn't last too long. From what we've seen of England so far (and it hasnt' been much because we can't seem to stay awake) it's beautiful! Green hills, beautiful deciduous trees that are bright orange, gold, and red, and quaint little farms. I missed the whole drive through London from the airport because I was pretty much asleep as soon as I sat down. And, that happened even though I was actively TRYING to see it all and take it all in. Right now we're living in the temporary living facility (which is like a glorified hotel room with cooking abilities) on Mildenhall Royal Air Force Base. It pretty much feels like I'm still in the United States except for the lovely accents I encounter in the commissary, the base exchange and the Taco Bell??? We start house hunting tomorrow and I can hardly wait to find OUR house and start living there out in the English countryside and out in the culture.

But, there are things to write before that happens, like our adventures while travelling yesterday! We left our hotel room in Nebraska at 6:30 pm, packed the taxi van full to the ceiling with our stuff, and all of the people and pets that had to go with us. We drove first to the storage unit to store some last minute odds and ends (basically everything that couldn't fit into our suitcases that were practically bursting at the seams) and then to the airport, 2 hours before our flight. Good thing too, because it took us an hour to check in. The taxi driver helped us unload that heavy baggage out of his van and a porter helped us take it inside. You could literally hear the three clerks gasp when approached the check in counter. I could picture them calculating in their heads how much our baggage would cost us since airlines now charge you for actually taking luggage with you on your travels. We showed up with 6 bags (over 300 pounds of stuff), several carryons, a cat, a stroller, a car seat...and just 3 people. We were glad to be spared the expense of the baggage by our military orders (which allow you to pack an insane amount of luggage for permanent changes of station). And when I say insane...you know I mean it! I couldn't lift some of the bags! It took the longest to get Cricket ready for the plane. None of the clerks had ever checked a cat before and they stayed on the phone checking regulations for nearly an hour! When it was all done, you could barely see Cricket's carrier for all of the stickers...red, green, yellow and white ones posted all over the place stating that she was a "live animal" and shouldn't be turned upside down. You would have had to be an idiot to not know which way was "up" on that carrier.

After checking everything, we still had about 100 pounds of stuff to haul around in our carry-ons...and that doesn't count Weslee! (I know we're crazy, but we have to live off of whatever we could carry for the next 2 months.) We got to the plane just a few minutes before boarding time.

The actual flights were uneventful. The plane worked wonderfully. Wes was an angel (which I SO appreciated) and cried only a couple of times when he slipped off of the seat into the floor trying to play with the television on the back of the seat. He made friends with everyone on the plane...especially a little boy named Jaylen on our flight to London. Jaylen was nice enough to share Cheetohs with Wes on the ride, which Wes happily ate and then smeared the excess cheese on the back of my shirt (without my knowledge). Yummy! By the end of the trip, I was pretty nasty. Between the usual grossness of traveling for 24 hours, the sweat, bad breath, greasy hair and the feeling that your nose and throat will forever feel like sandpaper is lodged in them...and the added nastiness from Wes (fruit cocktail on my jeans, snot on my shirt, etc...luckily, I missed out on the spaghetti sauce from the airline dinner. Kevin proudly wore that part). He even slept well on the plane. However, Kevin and I pretty much went the entire flight without sleep. Poor Kevin went the entire day without sleep, but I caught a few hours of rest at the USO in Minnesota.

Let me tell you about the USO. It's a place for military personnel to rest and clean up between travels. This one was run by volunteers and it was SO NICE. There was a bunk room for ladies with a pack-n-play for Wes to sleep in and a bunk for me to sleep in. We turned out the lights and slept for a good 2 1/2 hours. I was expecting to have to fight with Wes to sleep out in a busy terminal. Instead, he quietly went to sleep for a good amount of time and I even got some rest. It was so nice. They even fed us hot dogs and ham and cheese sandwiches. They had toys for Wes to play with. I felt so blessed that was had a place to go to for our 8 hour layover!

When we finally arrived in London, we looked so comical trying to steer Weslee's stroller and two huge carts full of luggage around. We had no idea where our cat was and trying to find out was a little bit of an ordeal. The other ordeal was trying to figure out how to get from Heathrow airport in London to the airforce base in Mildenhall, over 2 hours away! Our sponsor (one of Kevin's co-workers at Mildenhall) was unable to show up because a laurie (a semi, basically) had run into his truck recently. But, he told us we could catch the Mildenhall shuttle which left the airport twice a day to Mildenhall. Yeah...we got there in time for that, but they wouldn't take us with a cat. So, we sat in a freezing cold waiting room while Kevin looked for taxis. The hardest part was trying to understand a "foreigner" (Indian, Iranian, etc) speaking poor English in a Brittish accent over the phone. Kevin couldn't tell what their prices were half of the time. Finally, a taxi driver noticed Kevin coming back and forth to the taxi booth for information. His own customer had not shown up and he offered us a ride in his taxi to Mildenhall for a reasonable price. We felt so blessed. He even took us half a mile away to pick up our cat from quarantine. We only had to pay $340 to get there! Yikes! Some of the other taxis were charging like $500 to drive us the 2 1/2 hours!

Needless to say, when we arrived at the front gates of Mildenhall, we looked like we had been run over by a truck a few times. We were so happy to be here, though. A sargeant came and picked us up, helped us get our hotel room, took us to the commissary to get food, to the BX to get a litter box, food and litter for our cat, and to the post office to get our new address. He even showed us the food court where we ate more Taco Bell than any one person really should. It was a happy moment and I understood why the Nephites kissed the ground when they finally landed in the Americas. I wanted to kiss the bed I saw when I entered the hotel room. It has been my good friend these past 31 hours!

We all went to sleep at 7pm last night and mysteriously all woke up at midnight. We stayed up and ate Lucky Charms until 3 am and went back to sleep and all woke up again at noon. It's been such an odd feeling being so off schedule. But, we're adjusting and we're happy to be here! Now, it's time to really go to the commissary and get stuff to make dinner for my family!

Here we go, into the wild blue yonder.......

2008-10-26T22:20:00.000-07:00

Tonight is monumental. This is our last night in the United States for several years. The last few weeks have been filled with more emotions than I could sometimes hold. Sometimes I gritted my teeth in frustration (mostly when getting my house ready for cleaning inspections). Sometimes I found myself giddy with excitement. Sometimes, the tears would come without any warning whatsoever. And now, at the pinnacle of it all, I sit in a small temporary military living facility with all of our luggage neatly stacked on the couch, waiting for our departure tomorrow morning at 6:30 am.

It's late, but part of me doesn't want to sleep. When I wake up, life will change in quick succession. Friends, that I just spent sweet moments with just a few short hours ago at our going away party could become just another part of my history...perhaps never again to be seen face to face. Those that I've become close to, mere memories of times long past, like so many before them; placed in my life to shape and change it, and then gone as quickly as they came.

And yet, the gypsy in me is jumping at the opportunity for excitement. The "new" of moving. New friends, faces, places, memories, and history. A new home. A new environment. The itching wanderer inside of me can't wait to board a plane and fly into the unknown.

And so, in this small apartment, I'm filled with strange sensations. A dichotomy of feelings broiling under the surface of my skin. Life, though I'm still awake, feels like a dream. Though reality long ago set in (with the scrubbing of my walls and the digging up of the garden and the departure of all my treasured belongings) that I am IN FACT moving, my mind still cannot wrap itself around the distance we will travel tomorrow and the permanency of our situation. I say that I will miss my friends and family, but in fact, I can't really believe that I'm going so far away that I might not see many of them for several years. I'm sure the tears of sorrow at my loss will meet me sometime in the next 24 hours.

Bellevue Pumpkin Patch

2008-10-10T18:47:00.001-07:00

So, with the lack of decorations around here, no pumpkins to carve, and an empty house...there is a serious lack of the Halloween/Fall spirit. So, we decided that in order to enjoy this festive season, we'd have to go out and about to find that Halloween excitement. Today started our festivities with a visit to the Bellevue Pumpkin Patch. We didn't pick out a pumpkin, because truly, we'd just have to throw it away in a few days anyhow...but we enjoyed looking around. Weslee kept running around shouting "Bapple! Bapple! Bapple!" Everything that's round and has a stem is an apple. So, actually, I guess you could say that this was our trip to the giant orange "bapple" patch. We enjoyed being outside in the crisp, fall weather too!

This was also my first attempt at family pictures with my tripod. Not bad!

The Park

2008-10-07T11:48:00.000-07:00

This is a trick Wes has been doing for a while...since about June. He loves to go across the street to the "Weeeee", otherwise known as the park. He runs up the equipment over and over again and then slides down the slides. It gave me a heart attack the first time he did it by himself at the big slide...but now, it's old hat and it just makes all the other mothers cringe. He's very good at it and is very careful.

As an aside...this is my first storyboard EVER to put together. I rather like it, and you'll probably see more like this from me!

My poor child...

2008-10-06T08:59:00.001-07:00

Any mom out there who has travelled for any distance in a car with a toddler can tell you that toddlers DON'T like to be restrained in a car seat for any length of time. They don't enjoy the scenery. The don't appreciate long, much needed naps (like their mothers), and they don't appreciate playing with the same toys, reading the same books, or even eating the same foods for days on end. They like variety and adventure!

So, being the smart mom that I am...I created some adventure. Sometimes I danced like a crazy person to the music coming from the radio. Sometimes I gave "Popcorn Popping" a funny, crazy twist. Sometimes I went far beyond the limits of normal. This is one such moment. After hours of driving, Wes decided he had had enough. We were only 30 minutes from our destination, and of course, we didn't want to stop. So, SUPER MOM had to come to the rescue. I put on his travel bag as a hat, used his "super mask" from one of his favorite books...and Super Mom made an appearance in the car. Wes immediately quit crying and looked at me as if I were the most retarded person on earth. You can still see his stunned look in the pictures above. He didn't quite know what to think.

Kevin, on the other hand, knew exactly what to think. He apologized to Weslee for having such a strange mother and then laughingly accused me of making our kid strange. I told him that I wasn't making our kids strange...I was making them interesting! I still hold to that position.

Somehow, looking at these pictures, I realized that somewhere down the road, Wes won't just look at me with a stunned expression. He'll turn red, and walk very quickly away from wherever I am, and pretend not to know me. My days of being an embarrassment are starting, I think...and he's not even 2!

The long drawn out goodbye

2008-10-04T21:14:00.000-07:00

So, I'm finally at my leisure, sitting in my empty living room, on my knees no less, with my laptop propped up on an empty cardboard box and finally getting to post something. Perhaps the pictures will come tomorrow. But, for now, I'm enjoying peace...a commodity that has been hard to find for the last month. There were garage sales...massive ones to rid ourselves of all of our excess junk. Then, the obligatory trips, multiple to trips to Goodwill to get rid of everything that didn't sell. Then the true moving began.

For two weeks straight, we sorted through 8 years of "treasures" to decide what needed to be shipped to England (we're only allowed 8000 pounds of stuff, and we moved to Omaha with over 10,000...and that was before we had kids.), what needed to be donated or trashed, what needed to be stored, and what needs to go on the plane with us. It was a chore, but one that is happily now completed.

Moving day came and went with little headache. The movers came and neatly (and carefully...I was totally shocked) packed all of our belongings on one day. Then, they came and loaded them onto the truck (again, very carefully...I was still shocked) the next day. The very day after that, we loaded our stratus up, rented a car as well, and headed to St. Louis to ship our car overseas. (We're now driving our "ghetto supercar" that we drove in college all around town. You can hear us coming from about 2 miles away and it may win the Guiness book of world records for most duct tape on a vehicle. It rocks...and of course, we know you're all jealous. That's why we're bragging about it here.) But, don't be too jealous. My sister becomes owner of the supercar in 3 weeks. The supercar will escort her to her student teaching adventures in Utah. If you're on the road and hear a loud rumble, much like a giant lawnmower on the road...please move over. She hasn't driven in 3 years, and the supercar, while super, isn't too nimble anymore, hence the name "ghetto supercar".

We ourselves are camping out in our shell of a home until the 27th of this month. We have little to call our own anymore. We have an air mattress, a pack-n-play. A couple of blankets. A couple of obnoxious toys. More food storage than any 2 and 1/2 human being could eat in 3 years let alone 3 weeks. You know, the usual.

But, now more than ever, as we try to sleep on an air mattress that squeaks with every movement, and hear our voices echo throughout our house...we're ready to go and start our new adventure. I will hate to leave my friends, but my excitement to go only increased with the empty-ing of my house.

We just got home from a week long trip to say our goodbyes to our parents out east. Kevin's are on a mission for our church in Philadelphia. Mine are working and living in Baltimore. We've said goodbye, and now, it's time to go.

Ummm, yeah....

2008-09-20T07:47:00.000-07:00

So, in the midst of packing, things are out of place. Wes is taking full advantage of that. He's had alot of fun playing with things that aren't usually accessible...like my bra!?! I only got one picture of this. It's like he realized when I pulled out the camera that this moment could be used for blackmail later. He hastily removed it, and hasn't donned it since.

A long conversation with Nina

2008-09-02T19:25:00.001-07:00

As Wes gets older, he gets more talkative. ALOT more talkative. He especially likes to talk on toy phones. On real phones, he usually clams up and won't say a word and gives the phone back after a couple of moments of unsure listening.

Today was different, however. Wes actually handed the phone to me today and requested to talk to "Nanni", or my mother who calls herself "Nina" instead of grandma. So, I dialed the number so he could talk with her. I was astounded at what happened after that. Not only did he put the phone to his ear and ACTUALLY TALK (very loudly, I might add), he mimicked me when I'm on the phone in such detail that it was almost scary. He walked around the room, twirled circles, looked out the window, sat for a while, got up and walked around a bit more, sat in a different room, listened for a while, talked a bit more, then got up and walked around a little more. He played with toys while listening. Chased the cat.

I finally realized that his entire life, he's seen me clean the house, take out garbage, change his diaper, and do a host of other things while talking on the phone. Sometimes I just pace, sitting occasionally, but always returning to my feet to talk and think some more.

He did this for a very long time, probably 10 or more minutes. My mother kept up the conversation beautifully, asking him about what he ate today, if he went to the "wee" (park) and such. She asked him what a host of different animals said, and he would answer in turn.

He would stop every now and then to push a couple of buttons, but always returned the phone to his ear to talk some more. However, after a while, he got tired...and laid on the floor (like I sometimes lay on the couch or the bed) and put the phone close to his ear so he could still hear my mom. Crazy kid! I can't believe how observant they really are!

Yummy!

2008-09-02T18:49:00.000-07:00

OK...so with all this moving jazz, I've been a little lame with updates. I take the pictures, but I neglect to actually get them here where you can see them. I actually have a few spare moments tonight, so there will be a slew of updates.

This happened while my mom was here to visit. I had poured myself a bowl of cereal and had settled in the living room to eat breakfast while talking with my mom. Wes was happily playing with toys. He would toddle up to me to get a "bi" (bite) and then would go back to playing. On one occasion, he came to get his "bi" with some toy pickles in his hand. I didn't think anything of it, until they splashed into my bowl! It surprised me at first, and then I laughed my head off. Had to get a picture of Wes's yummy addition to my breakfast. What a little cook he's turning out to be.

Last night he whipped Kevin and I up an imaginary meal in a pot with a baster. He would stir, fold his arms and bow his head to pray, shout Amen!, stir some more, taste it and say "mmmmm", then share some with us. We lavished on the praise for his cooking. It'll be interesting to see where this interest goes in the future. For now, I'm enjoying pickled cucumber products with my breakfast. Top that, food network!!!

Just like dad!

2008-08-13T16:38:00.000-07:00

Lately Wes has loved being with Kevin. He just can't get enough of him...except for when it's bedtime or he's hurt, then that's all about mom. But, he has starting copying Kevin. Seriously, everything Kevin does, Wes has to try. He makes "nose blowing" sounds when Kevin blows his nose. He pounds on the door when he hears Kevin in the shower. He makes the "ahhhhhh" sound after drinking something good (which Kevin has done for as long as I've known him). He crys hysterically when Kevin has to go to work. All day long he walks around the house saying "Daddy? Daddy?" Most of the time, even I get called Daddy. I'm really working on that one. I'm teaching him that I'm "Mamma". But, most of the time he just points to himself and says "Mamma?" and then points to me and says again, "Daddy!". He is learning that he's a boy and so is Daddy. It is so cute to see him bonding with Kevin and trying to be like him. But, I'll admit, there's that little twinge of sadness telling me that perhaps my "preferred status" as the number one person in his life might be slipping fast. It's been a wierd sensation to be so excited for Kevin as he bonds with our son in some of the most memorable ways while letting go of my monopoly on Weslee's attention.

You look away for a moment...

2008-08-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

I always wondered how crayon marks found their way on other parents' walls. How do kids fall out of shopping carts? How does one roll of toilet paper make it's way out of the bathroom and get rolled out all over the house without notice? I wasn't condemning those other parents, I knew there had to be a reason, I just didn't understand how it happened. And then, Weslee became mobile...very mobile. Suddenly, things that I thought were "safe" are no longer "safe". I had been secure in my high countertops, my ability to shut doors and the ability to be ahead of the game...until, again, Weslee became mobile. And suddenly, I found myself in the category with those "other" parents.

This kid has taught me that ingenuity begins very young. He can pull chairs out, painstakingly crawl up onto them, and then get pens, crayons, books, and important papers off of our countertops and tables in less than a minute flat. He can turn on the burners on the stove (that was a surprising discovery, let me tell you!) He can shimmy up the couch, grab the phone and dial the numbers. And in these pictures, he learned how to unlatch and open the screen door out back. I was outside pulling weeds in the garden when I heard splashing on the sidewalk by our backdoor. He had let himself out, and helped himself to the kiddie pool while I was weeding. So, I stopped weeding and took pictures of his delightful fun. You can tell he's having a blast (that last picture in particular is a little crazy!). He shrieked and squealed through the whole thing...and now we keep the back door locked and bolted at all times.

You know, I remember my mother telling me that she felt "dumb" sometimes when we were teenagers (probably in part because we treated her that way)...but now, I can see why. The longer I parent, the less I realize I know. I had all the answers when I was in my teenage years, and by the time I'm a parent of teenagers myself, I'll probably feel exactly the way my mother did. For now, I'm happily indicted into the parent's school of keeping up with toddlers...and all the surprises it brings.

Playdate!

2008-07-31T23:40:00.000-07:00

Wes loves other kids...alot! He loves to watch them, play with them, babble at them...and is facinated by the things they do. He's still young enough that people can take away his toys and he doesn't get annoyed. But, he's old enough now that he's starting to interact with others.

This is Cumorah. She's his friend. They are only a couple of weeks apart in age and because Cumorah's daddy is deployed, Wes gets to play with her more often than he might otherwise. They are about as opposite as two kids can get. Cumorah is totally independent, unless she needs to be fed. Wes likes to play on his own for a while, but comes back to Mom and Dad frequently for hugs and words of affirmation. Cumorah loves sports...soccer especially. She gets so excited when she sees teams playing on the field in front of our house. She could live outside. And when she comes over, we spent long amounts of time at the park and walking around the neighborhood in the nifty wagon that Nina gave Weslee for his birthday. Lucky it has two seats and two seat belts! Wes on the other hand likes books, and cooking, and playing with blocks. He likes outside...alot. But, he's only recently discovered that balls are a plaything. Cumorah actually calms down quicker with a ball in her hands than with a pacifier or any other thing. They are different, but they play well.

I guess, I love learning from these two kids that friendship doesn't have to be about commonality at all. Friendships can be based upon the mutal enjoyment of one another's company...no matter how different you really are!

Revamped!

2008-07-24T20:57:00.001-07:00

Dear friends and family,
As you know, our time here in the good old US of A is limited and we are racking our brains for ways to keep in touch with you all. I have, in the sporting interest of trying to keep everyone up to date with our family during our crazy travels abroad, revamped our blog. This is no longer my photography blog, but our family blog. My photography blog is now at terihalesphotography.blogspot.com and I hope you will feel free to visit it for my latest photo sessions (if you so desire).

This blog will be limited to life's daily fun, frustration, exploration, and our missing all of you. We hope you (and grandmas...you know I'm talking about you here)...will find this blog a little easier to navigate now, because let's face it, we all know you're just here for pictures of the kid! And, no one wants to sift through pictures of people they don't know to see pictures of his cute little dimples. So, this is a dimples only blog from now on!

Cheers!
Teri

The Reception

2008-07-11T11:44:00.001-07:00

OK...these are the final pictures of the wedding that I'm going to post. The reception was beautiful thanks to both the mothers and some really good friends. I find that during wedding receptions you really get to see who your friends are. They calm you when you're stressed out. Tell you that your chocolate covered strawberries look wonderful and actually eat one. They help clean up after the whole ordeal. It was nice to see who Bubba and Tessa's real friends were...and they have several. I still don't know Tessa very well...but I know that ALOT of people love her to pieces...and that makes me happy to have her for a sister-in-law...and happy for Bubba that he has her for a wife. I'm actually kind of sad that I won't get to know her very well for a few years to come. But, hey...we've got a long life ahead of us, and plenty of time to become acquainted. Until then, we'll just have to get to know eachother over our blogs.

Pictures of the Bride and Groom

2008-07-05T02:09:00.000-07:00

OK...so I know it's 4:10 in the morning...and I'm aware that there is a baby in my home that will wake in like 4 hours and need my attention...but I'm addicted to photo editing...and I wanted to post some more work. These are the pictures I've been dying to edit. These are my favorites. This is what I do best...small groups and couples. I like it when the crowd goes away and I just have a few people to focus on. I don't particularly enjoy large groups. I never can seem to get everyone looking good in the same shot. With more than 4 in the group, I lose track of who's hair is in who's face, who isn't looking at the camera...and who's eyes are closed...again! But, with two, I can focus on all of that and get some good stuff.

I was actually kind of glad (though maybe the bride and groom weren't) to have these two alone to myself for a little bit. This is really the only quality time I've gotten to spend with Tessa. This was the first time I got to really see her as a person and not the phantom writer that sends me emails about the upcoming wedding. This was (and might be the only time) I get for a while to see her with my brother and come to know her as my new sister. I liked what I saw. She's really a sweetheart.

The Ceremony

2008-07-03T13:24:00.000-07:00

Wow...there really are alot of pictures! Tessa, you're gorgeous in all of these pictures. You were SO FUN to take pictures of! So photogenic. Bub...well, I'm just glad that Tessa can make you really smile. I have to say that I love the location...it was SO beautiful! I think it's kind of funny that all of the groomsmen and bridesmaids look like they're in pain, though, because of the sunlight in their eyes. Brett, especially, had some fun expressions in some of the pictures. Anyway, I hope you guys like what you see...and feel free to give me direction about what you're looking for if I didn't quite nail the finish, or if you'd like me to try a different look with the raw materials I have. Love you guys! Oh...these aren't all the pics...and they are in no particular order, just putting them up as I finish editing them. Enjoy!