This morning I walked around for thirty minutes before I noticed the live bumblebee in my slipper.
Before I had even been awake an hour, I’d already bashed two (necessary) body parts and doled out advice to three (unnecessary) tourists. Life on the river is sometimes difficult.
Last night I watched Bill & Ted for the first time since meandering around downtown Port Orchard in the late 80’s and accidentally acquiring a husband. Both the marriage and the movie still strike me as stupid but hilarious. Though perhaps more of the former than the latter.
I was nearly killed by an errant Royal Mail van, but survived to laugh with the driver over his error.
Or his need to ogle me. Or whatever.
Oh, summer bike rides- when my cleavage is like the grill of a semi in the ambitious collection of dead bugs.
I am a true and fervent fan of the NHS but sometimes accompany friends and family as they procure other sorts of services.
One cool thing about private hospitals: they wash hands before blood tests!
The free drinks are also a bonus.
I just watched a man in a full chef uniform, including hat, restock a vending machine.
Sara and Lola ventured to Cambridge where we went to the Harry Potter premiere, toured the Wren Library, checked out the Eagle, went punting, and took a boat trip down to Fen Ditton.
When the guests departed I handed Sara a copy of Lessons in Taxidermy with the comment “now remember, this is FUNNY.”
Friends are good:
Did you know I always travel with a flashlight? Or three. Quite useful, if I say so myself.
The morning was whiled away at the Museum of Childhood, where I learned Roald Dahl kept 100 budgies and taught his mynah bird to swear.
Later we met Portland friends for a picnic on Primrose Hill, then followed Allan over to his concert. I was expecting to be turned away because of the kids (licensing laws do not much care if your dad is in the band) and was amazed to find that my youngest offspring, not yet a teenager, looks old enough to bluff his way into a rock show.
Though I still made him stay in the green room.
Noted: I am surrounded by high maintenance, self-centered, overly dramatic contrarians. Good thing I am the very definition of sanity and stability, eh?
And on that note, I remain an American so… Happy Independence Day!
Today I inadvertently snubbed someone.
The remarkable aspect of the experience? I noticed!
Oh, and I remain as always surprised to find myself allergic to scotch broom. Though I’m not sure that is what they call it here, or even if that is the proper name stateside.
I didn’t manage to have coffee before noon and subsequently feel half dead. How long did it take for that addiction to take hold – eight weeks? I’m not drinking any more or less caffeine than before; it is just somehow…. different.
Though I have not discovered the good coffee in this town (if it exists) and subsequently spend way too much time in chains.
I must say I find it uniquely horrifying to hear the Velvet Underground playing over the speakers at the Starbucks in Cambridge Market Square.
Away to Lammas Land, with a detour for a spot of cricket before a picnic in the Grantchester Meadows.
Later there was a dinner party hosted by Jean that lasted til dawn…. and I didn’t make anyone cry this time!
I can bend my finger for the first time in a week! This is the part where I am overly optimistic and end up even more injured.
The last few days have included hiding from tourists, exchange students wielding clipboards, punting touts, and sunlight. Not with marked success, but still.
Early morning sunshine, drinking coffee, watching the market wake, chatting with vendors: sometimes I love this city. The feeling will pass.
On the way home I spotted cygnets in the lock – guess they didn’t read the warning signs.