We're back! Twenty one hours after leaving my folks, we're safely ensconced in our home in Edinburgh. I'd be lying if I said it was a walk in the park... Heck, I'd even be lying if I said it was a poo in the park. The first leg of our journey from Boston to Frankfurt wasn't too bad, we left at ten at night when the kids were good and demented so they slept most of the flight. I had barf bags at the ready in case Maia decided to projectile vomit in my face like last time. Unfortunately I was so focused on the threat of vomit from below that I took my eye off the ball and didn't realise the true danger was vomit across the aisle, courtesy of a fully-grown stranger. She hurled and hurled into the aisle between our seats to the extent that a doctor was summoned and she was put on oxygen, probably just to plug up her mouth and make her stop. The flight crew dumped about four kilos of coffee grounds onto the spill, I'm not entirely sure why but it was probably just the shock of the whole thing. I was largely delirious with fatigue during the excitement, and could have probably put it down to a bad dream had my shoes not been vomitted on. Which I found out in the morning when I put them back on. Nice.
Once at Frankfurt, we had a layover of almost six hours. Let me repeat that: we had a layover of almost six hours. Thankfully, Frankfurt is probably the biggest airport in the world, so we spent a lot of those six hours going from our arrival to departure terminals. Maia also helpfully refused to walk at all, so it took even longer for me to carry her, her backpack, and my backpack across the expanse. So we really only had four hours to kill, which is totally not a big deal when you've had three hours of sleep.
The real trouble started when we were descending from our Frankfurt flight into Edinburgh. Maia had spent the whole flight on my lap, arms wrapped around me like a little koala. When the flight attendant came around to say she needed to be buckled into her own seat I pretended I couldn't hear him. When he repeated that she needed to be moved, I pleaded with my eyes, 'Don't make me do this'. Those of you who know a bit about koalas will know that despite being cute, they're also crazy and nasty. And sure enough, when they insisted she be prised from my lap, Maia went feral. She became a yowling, thrashing mess of teeth and claws. It took supernatural strength for me to hold her down in the seat as she continuously locked her legs in a standing position, bit any appendage that got within range, pulled out clumps of my hair and scratched my face. On the plus side, there was far too much going on for me to make eye contact with any of the horrified passengers, who surely would have been phoning Social Services or Rabies Control had mobiles been allowed. This continued for the full thirty minute decent, when she promptly turned into Sweetness and Light, clapped and pretended nothing happened. After sheepishly kissing my arm and saying 'Sorry'.
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
4
Things not to tell Jamie
The other day we were all sitting around reminiscing about our childhoods and someone fondly remembered the time that my brother Brady dressed up in a bear costume, hid in my closet, waited until I fell asleep and then jumped out and scared the bejesus out of me. We were speculating if this event scarred me to the extent that my DNA was altered to include 'scared of bears' to my genetic makeup, and this is what has been passed down to Jamie.
Fear of The Bear has not abated despite our change of location, and Jamie is still very nervous of the concept, to the extent that it's discussed at bedtime every night with soothing platitudes from us that there are only pretend bears at Grandma's house. Like this one in the rafters of the solarium:
One night Jamie even woke me up in the wee small hours to complain that The Bear had gotten into bed with him.
Then a couple of days ago Mister Bo, the Tibetan terrier with an acute sense of smell and an overdeveloped 'Must Protect House' syndrome started barking like a dog possessed. My brother and I went outside to investigate and we saw gigantic black bear at the top of the driveaway. I didn't take any pictures but it was much like this one:
So we can file that right at the top of the list of Things Not to Tell Jamie, right next to 'Honestly, just ask me a couple more times, I'll give in then'.
Fear of The Bear has not abated despite our change of location, and Jamie is still very nervous of the concept, to the extent that it's discussed at bedtime every night with soothing platitudes from us that there are only pretend bears at Grandma's house. Like this one in the rafters of the solarium:
One night Jamie even woke me up in the wee small hours to complain that The Bear had gotten into bed with him.
Then a couple of days ago Mister Bo, the Tibetan terrier with an acute sense of smell and an overdeveloped 'Must Protect House' syndrome started barking like a dog possessed. My brother and I went outside to investigate and we saw gigantic black bear at the top of the driveaway. I didn't take any pictures but it was much like this one:
So we can file that right at the top of the list of Things Not to Tell Jamie, right next to 'Honestly, just ask me a couple more times, I'll give in then'.
Saturday, 15 August 2009
5
Photo diaries and exhibitionists: Part Three
Courtesy of Steven, I have a lot of photographic proof of what the children got up to from Sunday to Wednesday. They went boating with Grandma and Grandpa:
They devoted themselves to Isla:
They went to more playgrounds and pooed:
They posed at monuments without knowing why:
They hung out with baby animals:
There is no photographic record of what I got up to from Sunday to Wednesday. If I was to wager a guess as to what picture best represented my activities, especially on Sunday and Monday, it would probably look something like this:
Although definitely less religious in nature, and hopefully more benign. Raging with a fever in excess of 102deg, I was speaking in tongues and sermonising to my mother my theories onto why my skeleton hurt. The kids made frequent visits with their doctor's kits asking if I 'felt better yet', but in the end the entire family skeddaddled for most of the daylight hours and left me to writhe and cough in peace. Sunday became Monday and Monday became Tuesday. On Tuesday I felt brave enough to move my camp from the bedroom to the living room couch. Awoke from a daytime slumber by a knock on the door, I met a neighbour who quite alarmingly said, 'Sorry to wake you again.' Again, as in he awoke me another time. That I don't remember. On one of the days I only writhed around in my underwear. I can only imagine what type of conversation we had the first time, with me in my wild-eyed, unkempt, nonsensical and guttural glory.
Come Wednesday, it was time to return to Connecticut. Luckily for Steven, my condition had improved enough that I was able to travel in the car with the kids for the epic journey. Unluckily for Mom and and kids, my temperament had not improved and although I was a fairly capable Snackmaster, I was a lackluster and irritable Entertainment Executive.
The End. I appreciate that this is a rather abrupt ending, but I didn't want to drag my illness onto yet another installment. I am mostly better, I'm not sure what it was, but thankfully no one else seems to have caught it despite my Ebola-esque symptoms.
They devoted themselves to Isla:
They went to more playgrounds and pooed:
They posed at monuments without knowing why:
They hung out with baby animals:
There is no photographic record of what I got up to from Sunday to Wednesday. If I was to wager a guess as to what picture best represented my activities, especially on Sunday and Monday, it would probably look something like this:
Although definitely less religious in nature, and hopefully more benign. Raging with a fever in excess of 102deg, I was speaking in tongues and sermonising to my mother my theories onto why my skeleton hurt. The kids made frequent visits with their doctor's kits asking if I 'felt better yet', but in the end the entire family skeddaddled for most of the daylight hours and left me to writhe and cough in peace. Sunday became Monday and Monday became Tuesday. On Tuesday I felt brave enough to move my camp from the bedroom to the living room couch. Awoke from a daytime slumber by a knock on the door, I met a neighbour who quite alarmingly said, 'Sorry to wake you again.' Again, as in he awoke me another time. That I don't remember. On one of the days I only writhed around in my underwear. I can only imagine what type of conversation we had the first time, with me in my wild-eyed, unkempt, nonsensical and guttural glory.
Come Wednesday, it was time to return to Connecticut. Luckily for Steven, my condition had improved enough that I was able to travel in the car with the kids for the epic journey. Unluckily for Mom and and kids, my temperament had not improved and although I was a fairly capable Snackmaster, I was a lackluster and irritable Entertainment Executive.
The End. I appreciate that this is a rather abrupt ending, but I didn't want to drag my illness onto yet another installment. I am mostly better, I'm not sure what it was, but thankfully no one else seems to have caught it despite my Ebola-esque symptoms.
3
Things started so well. The house on the lake, and the lake itself, were beautiful. From the moment me and Baby Calvin clapped eyes on each other, it was True Love. We immediately set about starting a Mutual Appreciation Club with only two members (although Jamie and Maia would like to be members too).
He's even more gorgeous and good-natured than I'd imagined, and he's so chubby his knees look like big muffins. He clearly adores me, and he thinks that everything I say is hilarious, even if I am telling him that we can't be together because of the age difference and shared genetic material. The first 24 hours in Vermont passed without incidence. Jamie, Maia and Isla were getting on famously and life couldn't have been better. Well, it could have if Paypal was willing to let me spend my own money but we'll not dwell on that.
Steven and I and the kids took the next stop on our 2009 New England Playground tour on Saturday afternoon while Isla was napping. Other parents are proud of their progeny's 100% attendance record at school. I'm proud of my children's 100% Poo to Playground Ratio, coming in at an impressive three for three for each of them in Vermont alone. Nothing is more certain to send Maia scuttling inside the monkey bars for some privacy, or Jamie in the Portoloo or forest, than a good playground. Daily ablutions complete, we went back to the car to return to the lakehouse.
But something else was afoot... By the time we got back, my legs were covered in goosebumps despite the heat. My joints were achy, my skin tingly and sensitive, even my scalp hurt. Feeling sorry for myself, I retired to bed with a book after the kids were asleep. I gave Steven instructions to come and fetch me when dinner was ready. None of us knew this would be the last lucid message from me for awhile.
To be continued....
Lovefests and Playgrounds: Part Two
Things started so well. The house on the lake, and the lake itself, were beautiful. From the moment me and Baby Calvin clapped eyes on each other, it was True Love. We immediately set about starting a Mutual Appreciation Club with only two members (although Jamie and Maia would like to be members too).
He's even more gorgeous and good-natured than I'd imagined, and he's so chubby his knees look like big muffins. He clearly adores me, and he thinks that everything I say is hilarious, even if I am telling him that we can't be together because of the age difference and shared genetic material. The first 24 hours in Vermont passed without incidence. Jamie, Maia and Isla were getting on famously and life couldn't have been better. Well, it could have if Paypal was willing to let me spend my own money but we'll not dwell on that.
Steven and I and the kids took the next stop on our 2009 New England Playground tour on Saturday afternoon while Isla was napping. Other parents are proud of their progeny's 100% attendance record at school. I'm proud of my children's 100% Poo to Playground Ratio, coming in at an impressive three for three for each of them in Vermont alone. Nothing is more certain to send Maia scuttling inside the monkey bars for some privacy, or Jamie in the Portoloo or forest, than a good playground. Daily ablutions complete, we went back to the car to return to the lakehouse.
But something else was afoot... By the time we got back, my legs were covered in goosebumps despite the heat. My joints were achy, my skin tingly and sensitive, even my scalp hurt. Feeling sorry for myself, I retired to bed with a book after the kids were asleep. I gave Steven instructions to come and fetch me when dinner was ready. None of us knew this would be the last lucid message from me for awhile.
To be continued....
Thursday, 13 August 2009
4
Road trips and Anthrax Deer: Part One
Maybe you've been wondering where I've been... Why have I been neglecting you? Why haven't I been updating you with my silly sunburn? How are my lady bits coping with the fluconazole moratorium? Have I encountered any extreme weather systems? I'm sure there are a million questions you want to ask me.
From Friday past to Wednesday evening I was in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. That's right up on the border with Canada, and I should just say that I wasn't in the best mind frame to go away to the Canadian border for five days. Paypal had suspended my account the night before for using my own money abroad (yes, I am very cheeky) and I'd tearfully fought a pointless phone battle with them in Luxembourg in the morning to reinstate my account and pay all the people that were waiting. I had countless fabric orders stalled and they possibly wouldn't be able to be shipped in time for me to bring back to the UK. And the lakehouse we were borrowing from family friends did not have internet access so I couldn't continue my campaign to pay people. But nevermind, there was a local WIFI cafe and we were meeting the delectable Baby Calvin for the first time and catching up with the adorable Isla so I did have some things to spur me on.
Or this freaky deer made of real deer hide:
Or human hide a la Silence of the Lambs. It's just that freaky. I tried to keep that one well away from Maia, so it nestled at my feet. I joked to mom that the raw hide would probably give me anthrax.
To be continued...
From Friday past to Wednesday evening I was in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont. That's right up on the border with Canada, and I should just say that I wasn't in the best mind frame to go away to the Canadian border for five days. Paypal had suspended my account the night before for using my own money abroad (yes, I am very cheeky) and I'd tearfully fought a pointless phone battle with them in Luxembourg in the morning to reinstate my account and pay all the people that were waiting. I had countless fabric orders stalled and they possibly wouldn't be able to be shipped in time for me to bring back to the UK. And the lakehouse we were borrowing from family friends did not have internet access so I couldn't continue my campaign to pay people. But nevermind, there was a local WIFI cafe and we were meeting the delectable Baby Calvin for the first time and catching up with the adorable Isla so I did have some things to spur me on.
Me and Mom had the pleasure of Jamie and Maia's company on the full day's drive, so to allow us frequent opportunities to do primal screams in the forest stretch our legs we had to make plenty of stops. Like at a second hand children's shop, where we bought a strangely alluring Mr Potatohead for Jamie and a gigantic grab bag of mixed ponies for Maia. Her new pony troops successfully (success being hers not ours) kept her stimulated and awake in the car for the next five days, which I suspect has something to do with this menacing pony:
Or this freaky deer made of real deer hide:
Or human hide a la Silence of the Lambs. It's just that freaky. I tried to keep that one well away from Maia, so it nestled at my feet. I joked to mom that the raw hide would probably give me anthrax.
To be continued...
Sunday, 9 August 2009
Thursday, 6 August 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)