Down on the Farm

The first few days we spent at my Dad's home in Missouri were packed with farm filled activities. Sebastian was gutted when he heard Popa had gotten rid of the goats but there was no shortage of fun. The funniest was when Sebastian got dumped off when he tried to ride Dilly. He had a nasty bruise for a few days. We had consecutive nights of severe thunderstorm warnings which brought amazing clouds but just a bit of rain. The weather was hot and humid. Best that can be expected in Missouri in July!

Travel Day

On Saturday we left the house at an ungodly hour and headed for the hell that is Heathrow Airport with an extremely patient taxi driver at the wheel. We had some last minute shopping to do so he drove us around until we found a 24 hour petrol station which stocked what we needed.

Check-in was a piece of cake, as long as you don't mind standing in a queue for 30 minutes for the airlines to dispatch adequate staff to check-in luggage. So was breakfast, if you don't count that my husband threw away my half drank Starbucks coffee which was my very first one since the start of my diet back in March. He almost didn't get to go on the trip with us and I warned him to not be quite so zealous about tidying up. That must have been a first.

Our seats weren't together so I had Sebastian and Marc had Abigail in the row behind us. Sebastian fell asleep not long after dinner. Abigail did give Marc a bit of a rest but she was so excited she was literally bouncing. Glad I wasn't in that row.

Connecting at Chicago wasn't without its usual stresses. First off we realised that our flight was delayed by 50 minutes although at the time we didn't know why. We needed to take a train between terminals and just as one arrived, Abigail announced she needed to wee. Seb and I got on one and Marc took Abigail to the toilet.

Then as I was passing through security, the alarm went off. I knew it was the underwire in my bra. It always is. I was told I needed to pass my passports and boarding cards to my husband who was trying to corrals our carry on luggage and our children and our shoes whilst I waited for that ever elusive female security guard to pat me down. I handed these to Abigail with clear instructions to her to hand them to Daddy. Naive of me, yes.

The female guard finally appeared and confirmed that my bra had some serious metal in it but nothing that could be used to commit an act of terror, thank goodness. I went and helped Marc to pick up our bits and bobs. and we made our way to the gate for the next leg of the journey. As we sat down I asked Marc where he put the boarding cards. He looked at me blankly. I looked at Abigail. I panicked.

I went running back to the security station. We turned that place upside down and couldn't find our passports or boarding cards. I went back to our gate and started unpacking our carry-on. Lo and behold in the front pocket of a backpack, there they were. We have no idea who put them there. Abigail says she gave it all to a man. Someone was watching over us and being extremely helpful which just never happens at Chicago O'Hare Airport.

I called my Dad once my blood pressure had returned to normal to let him know we were going to be a bit behind schedule. He then informed me our delay was probably because a place had skid off the runway at O'Hare earlier in the day so he thought we might be a bit delayed.

Back up went the blood pressure. I headed for Starbucks.

Once in Kansas city, the humidity (90%) and the heat (100 F) hit us like a brick wall. We boarded a bus to go to get our hire (rental) car. Once we had confirmed that the air conditioning was operating at deep freeze we set off for the final leg of our journey.

What the children hadn't realised was that our final destination was still a couple hours away and every 5 minutes the are we there yet chorus would crescendo. As we turned on to State Highway V, I informed the children that after a taxi-plane-train-plane-bus-car journey we were nearing Popa and Gramma E's home. We came up over the last hill and we could see the big red barn.

Now Abigail and Sebastian (and I) were bouncing. We had arrived! Finally.

Football Camp

My son does ballet and my daughter does football (aka soccer in some remote regions of the world). I should say my daughter thought doing football would be a great idea but when it came down to the practicality of it all I think there was just too much physical activity what with all that running around. She must have decided that since she couldn't carry her hand bag so she would just look great standing about which she did a lot of. She still got a medal and a certificate. Must be for attendance. Oh no, that can't be it either since she threw several tantrums and didn't go to one. Whatever!

The Valerie Palmer Cup

At the end of every school year, the schools here in England have Speech Day. Year 2 is the first year that students attend so this was our first Speech Day. It is held the Sunday before the last week of school in the awe inspiring architecture of St George's Chapel in Windsor Castle.

Awards are given to the Year 8 Leavers and special awards are given to each class year for most improved and kindness. The are also special awards for achievement in dance, science, sports, etc.

I had spoken to Marc about this and evidence of some fairly deep childhood trauma emerged as my husband was refusing to attend what he considered to be the most boring event of the year. I did point out to Marc that it was always possible that Sebastian could receive an award and he wouldn't want to miss that. Marc said that if Sebastian was going to receive an award he would know it. I interrogated our son and he assured me he wasn't going to win an award.

I gave Marc a pass, took up the gauntlet and duly performed my parental duty of representing our family at the ceremony.

The Canon of St George's Chapel gave a sweet introduction and the headmaster of St George's, Roger Jones, gave a wonderful speech about the school's achievements in the past year as well as a reminder of the school's philosophy for the educational and social commitment to our children. It was reassuring to find those still roughly aligned with ours.

Then the long list of awards began and I applauded for those I didn't know and those I did. And then the most astonishing thing happened. My son's name was called.

Sebastian Clare-Panton is the proud recipient of the Valerie Palmer Cup. This is an award given to a student of St George's Pre-Prep department who has attended all 4 years of pre-prep and has made a positive contribution to the classroom ethos. They display a positive attitude and just get on with it no matter what comes their way.

I am so proud of him. I wanted to hoot and hollar. I had to remind myself that I was in a most sacred Chapel. And Marc missed the whole thing!

The Outcast by Sadie Jones

After struggling through every word, every page, and every paragraph of The Sound and The Fury, I was initially relieved to have a book which was easy to read. I flew this book and was able to read without having to think. But the novelty wore off rather quickly.

This is Jone's debut novel and despite what the critics say, you can tell. It feels rushed. And sophmoric.

Lewis is an odd boy to begin with. He is smothered with love by his eccentric mother and thrown completely off bablance when his father returns home after fighting in the second World War. He was only 2 when his father left and he doesn't know this man who has suddenly commandeered all of his mother's attention. During a picnic with his mother, she drowns.

This was only the first plot device that seems contrived. She was a good swimmer and whilst his mother was tipsy from far too much wine in the afternoon it is never clear to me how she drowned or why he couldn't save her. It is amazing how sobering a dip in very cold water can be. Trust me, I know. Just don't ask how!

Lewis is surrounded by broken people, far too many broken people. Not a single adult steps in to help or offer comfort. Now maybe that is the time and the place but it didn't ring true to me.

This could be a good book and maybe the author's talent will mature. The characters are only superficially developed with the exception of Lewis. And his oddness seems false and manufactured, the way a teenager dramatises their difference when trying to establish their own identity separate from their parents. I'd give this one a miss. There is just too little time to waste on mediocre literature.

Book Group Verdict: Everyone loved it but me. Maybe I need a new book group. I should have published this post ages ago but I forgot!

Seb Learns to Ride a Bike.......

......finally. the stabilizers (training wheels) have come off at my insistence and over the last couple of evenings we have taken Sebastian out to master the art of riding a bicycle, an important life skill that you never forget (or so I'm told).

And he's done it!

Dancing with Matt

Not entirely sure who this guy is or what he is doing dancing around the wolrd but I love the videos! Even the outakes are good!

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

This book caught me completely off guard. A few months back one of the mums at school had said to me she was reading a book which she thought I would love. It was set in Germany during the second World War (at which point my attention waned) and it is told from the perspective of death (at which point I wondered what this woman thought of me if she thought I would love this book).

But then I kept hearing snippets about it and the premise intrigued me.

It is indeed set in Molching, Germany just outside of Munich and not far from Dachau and the concentration camps and extermination ovens. It is indeed narrated by death but death is not something to fear. It is rather a compassionate and extraordinarily compassionate task master who needs to take each of us off to the inevitable end regardless of how we lived our life.

The story centres on Liesel Meminger, a young girl who lives her young life in these tumultuous times whilst her father brings home a Jew to hide in the basement and her blond haired blue eyed neighbour boy develops a crash on her. She loves to read and steals books to read to herself, to the Jew, to the people hiding in the bomb shelter as the adults around her wreck havoc.

In the end she is all that is left. The Fuhrer is dead, her parents have been killed by the Allied bombing, the neighbour boy is dead. The Jew returns to her and gives her the strength to carry on. She marries and has children, grand children and death comes to take her away.

This is a beautiful and sublime book. I love the characters, each and everyone of them are elegantly depicted. The weaving of the story in and out of inhumane and humour is exquisite.

I highly recommend this book. Pick this up just as soon as you can.

Editor's Note: pages 550

Olympic Gold

After sports day and the swimming galas I can now confirm that it is extraordinarily doubtful that either of my children will be winning any Olympic gold on behalf of either the UK or USA. Abigail ran every race with her tongue out. Seb waved at every one as he sauntered past oblivious to the fact that this was a race.

At the swimming gala Abigail was having fun playing whilst Sebastian had to use a float for every stroke other than the normal stroke where he finished after several minutes.....he climbed out of the water exhausted. Luckily, all of his classmates were chanting his name so I am hoping that he won't be permanently emotionally scarred as a result of his lack of physical prowess.

Click on the photo below to get a complete photo montage of the swimming galas.

Once Upon a Time

St George's School presented a series of traditional children's stories for the PrePrep Entertainment. Sebastian starred as the Gingerbread Man in a costume designed and made by Auntie Mary. He was a star! Click on the photo to see a slideshow of the entire photo collection.

StG Sports Day Extravanganza 2008

Click on the Photo below for a photographic montage of the glorious Sports Day 2008!

Hat

My hat for Ascot this year was extra special. My dress was far too big so I told the shop I needed a hat which would ensure no one noticed how big the dress was. I think they succeeded. I loved it!

Immensely Interesting

Read This!

Sponsor Me

I'm running in the Running4Women 8k in September and raising money for breast cancer research. Please be generous and support this worthy and relevant cause. Just click below.

Break Down

We had an off the scale busy weekend.

Friday evening was the Old Windsor Donkey Derby.

Saturday I dropped Abigail off at Football Camp. Marc went to help build the Beaver Scout float (theme Lapland - don't ask!). I sewed Sebastian's elf shoes and hat. I picked Abigail up at Fottball Camp. Marc dropped me off at the Scout Burger stall at the Old Windsor Carnival where I served up hamburgers, cheeseburgers, hot dogs, and chips ( US= french fries) for 2 hours despite it being the last day of my diet. He then dropped Sebastian (aka Elf) at the float before the start of the parade. When my shift was over we ran across the village green to catch the end of the parade and saw my little elf.

On Sunday morning I went to my last diet group meeting and came home to pick up the family to take a quick trip into London. We had thousands of things to do as we headed home when the car stalled at a busy intersection in Central London. We waited for nearly 5 hours for the recovery truck to show up to tow our car and transport us home by which time it was far too late to do even 1 of the thousand things.

Boy was I glad just to be home!

PS: See the sick car behind us on the tow!!

Happy 7th Birthday, Sebastian!

Sick Angel

My little princess was on her way to her ballet lesson this afternoon when she vomited all over her little ballet skirt. She vomited all the way home in Daddy's car into her dance bag (glad it wasn't my car). She had a nice warm bath and has been having the dry heaves on and off all evening and is feeling pretty sorry for herself. Poor little girl.

Strictly Come Dancing

Sebastian had a themed birthday party on Saturday: Strictly Come Dancing.

He had been excited from the moment he got the invitation. He designed his own costume and practiced his dance moves. I messed up with the costume because I couldn't find a red satin shirt. We settled for a white satin shirt after the fourth dance shop let us down.

But he came up trumps with his dance moves and even won a prize at the party.

The girls are still talking about what an amazing dancer he is! Guess those ballet lessons are paying off.

Check him out!

Mac Convert

For Christmas last year, my husband gave me a mini Mac. I loved the idea of it. I loved the look of it. I hated using it.

I complained here on my blog. I complained to colleagues who were Mac converts and I persisted.

I've spent quite a bit of time using it and therein is the secret to using the Mac. I've figured out shortcuts and the text editor offers far richer features. The machine is far more stable than my other pc. Firefox actually remembers my passwords when I tell it to. The predictive text consistently works.

I haven't by any stretch of the imagination used the Mac as much as I should but that is due to demands on my time to do other things. we still keep all of our photos on the pc and with our photos are our videos. this means it is a bit of a fiddle to get the videos over to the Mac and edit them. I'm still trying to find the time to edit the video from Sebastian's performance of The Sound of Music. But first I have to figure out how to get it over to the Mac.

This would all be solved if we had a file server but again, Marc has been unable to carve out some time to set it up. My verdict is a definite thumbs up!

Crime Statistics

If you are in the USA, depending on where you live, SpotCrime can be either incredibly frightening or a soothing reassurance. Could come in handy when considering where to buy a home or send your children to school. Word of warning, I've heard the data can be a bit unrealiable. But interesting nonetheless.

If you are in the UK, tough. This data is not released to the public. Do you smell a conspiracy?