10 Things

i was tagged over at olemissmom for...

10 things that make me happy

1. my 2 boys

2. my family coming to town today! and then more family coming later!

3. manicure and pedicure (don't you feel so good after having your nails done?)

4. my friends back at home who will skype with me, send me funny updates, and send me heartfelt and caring snail mail and e-mails. oh man, i miss y'all!

5. america--everything about it. (ah-mer-i-cuh).

6. flowers

7. coffee (literally, i feel happier after having a grande coffee. is that bad?)

8. reading a book that i cannot put down (recently me and mr. darcy and always, always pat conroy.)

9. the lake (oh to be at the lake!)

10. warm, but crisp october days when the sky is that clear, bright october blue. and maybe with a football game on in the background.

i could go on, and on. but i think this will do!

now, i tag:

mary frances at almost home

liz at little interruptions

molly at lest we forget

ginna at chicken fried meets moose tracks

michal at [insert picture here]

Hi! Over here!

No, not there! HERE!

I am so excited to be a guest blogger at flower magazine! Check out my experience at the Columbia Road Flower Market here in London on their blog.

Columbia Road Flower Market

Thanks for having me, flower international HQ! I'm so honored to be a flower girl!

Oh, and while you are there...a subscription to flower is a mighty fine (or shall I say "proper" as they do here?) gift for your wife, girlfriend, mother, mother-in-law, grandma, neighbor, bride-to-be, friend, teacher, the list goes on. Because who doesn't love reading about (and looking at) beautiful flowers and flowery things in a perfectly approachable and perfectly fantastic magazine? And Christmas is just around the corner....

[cue British accent] I do hope you will hop on over there!

Would you like a complimentary shot?

Two nights ago, Wil and I were out on the town. He found cheap tickets for Billy Elliott (I wish I was a dancer.), and a "Mexican" restaurant around the corner.

Enter man dressed as "Mexican" with Mexican-style blanket, sombrero who seats us.

(this looks promising, albeit weird.)

Enter waitress wearing a yellow shirt with Corona written on it. Repeatedly. Like it was a normal shirt, but with Corona on it over and over again.

(margaritas ordered. queso dip is denied. "yes, we have cheese on these dishes." no. that is not what we are after. at all. unsure now on this place, but margaritas are on the way.)

Enter waitress wearing a yellow shirt with Corona written on it. Repeatedly. Like it was a normal shirt, but with Corona on it over and over again. She asks what we want to drink. I think I'm going crazy. Then I realize it is a different waitress. Just in the same shirt.

(note to self: I don't want to work here. ever. they make you wear these shirts and your boss is wearing a blanket as a poncho.)

Margaritas arrive. Yes. Along with 10 chips, quac, salsa, and sour cream.

(save umbrellas in margaritas because Wiley will love them. they are still in my coat pocket.)

Order Chimichanga and Enchilada.

(can't mess up a chimichanga right? plus, i've never had one, so my expectations will be quite low. actually non-existent. enchilada is a gamble. wil is brave.)

Food arrives.

(mine is good. wil's is so-so. hey, at least we tried. i did like that they used a roast-type of beef for both, very English of them. Read:un-Mexican).

Check arrives.

Waitress #1 says, "Would you like a complimentary shot of tequila?"

(we exchange glances. if you know me, you know i kind-of-sort-of-very-much-so like tequila. and i love free stuff even more. well, sure. thanks!)

Shots arrive.

(we exchange glances again. is this for real? i think, this must be rot-gut. good thing it is only one. we like our hands, salt them, grab our lime, grab our tequila and toast to 4 years of marriage. we are classy like that.)

Ah. Tequila.

(neighboring table turns down free tequila shot. we are puzzled. who does that? should we ask them to take it and then give it to us? joking, joking.)

And on to Billy Elliott. Alcohol units for each: 2 (one margarita and one free tequila shot)

Pseudo Mexican restaurant: You were no La Carretta, Villa Fiesta, Zona Rosa, or that good one I had in Texas, Chuy's. But you did give me a free shot. Maybe to make up for the fact that you knew I was dreaming of the La Carretta patio and margarita pitchers shared with best friends (hubby included).

But. I did see Billy Elliott (amazing). And you can't do that after eating at La Carretta, Villa Fiesta, Zona Rosa, or even Chuy's. So there.

When in Rome...

er, or London. Lock up your "pram" or "buggy" with a lock whilst you go into story time at the local library. Don't have a lock? Don't worry, the library provides them for you.

Pictured here is the Maclaren Volo umbrella stroller, previously known as the lightest and best stroller to lug your 3 1/2 year old around in, on and off buses and the tube, but more recently known as the "I will amputate your child's finger if you don't watch out stroller." After being notified of the recall in the States, and trying to order the parts...I think it is a plastic cover perhaps that goes over the part that does the amputations...to be sent here, I had to call Maclaren UK.

Since they are made here, or at least based here, I figured it would be easy to get the repair part. However, all I got was a speech from an impatient Brit about how the parent or carer should not let children fold up the stroller themselves or stick their digits into folding pieces.

Bottom line, if you are an American, we will send you this part because you obviously are not smart enough to keep wiggling fingers away from hinges and the like. If you are English, however, we will not provide this part because we believe our fellow countrymen to be above the dense Americans who allow fingers to be clipped in strollers. In fact, 7 American children have 1/2 less digit on a hand, compared to the one child in England who has 9.5 fingers.* I'm not sure what this says about us back home.

Moral of the story: I guess I will have the part shipped home, then brought over here, and hopefully I will remember to put it on. (Just keeping it real.) Until then, I will continue to fold the buggy up myself, keeping small digits and my larger digits away from the hinges. I think we should be okay. And I'm pretty sure that the Brits think us to be a bit silly in all of this as I have already read an editorial regarding the recall in a newspaper. Oh, and I will knock on some wood for good effect because I'm worried now I've jinxed my fingers.

*Statistic given by previously mentioned impatient Maclaren representative.

Changing of the Guard

We got touristy yesterday. Yep. I decided that if we were living here, we needed to take advantage of the cultural things he can be learning while not in school (school...that is a different story!). When I say "I," I mean, a sweet friend reminded me that even if Wiley is not in school currently, he will learn a lot just from being in this city. (Thanks, friend.) However, w must exit the flat to learn from the city. So, after confirming that the Changing of the Guard at Buckling-ham Palace is on odd days currently, we wrapped up (It is suddenly cold here) and were headed to the tube station. We arrived a bit early, and we were able to get relatively close. The sweetest Australian couple was standing by us, and they helped move Wiley up to the fence between a Frenchwoman and a German woman. Don't worry, I could see him, and hold onto him. We waited about 45 minutes. It was cold. And kind of boring. Wiley entertained our neighbors. It is funny how the language barrier doesn't apply to 3 year olds. They were laughing and smiling (and saying stuff in German) at him as he made faces. He does this on the tube as well. And the bus. We make friends wherever we go with Wiley. That "don't talk to me-look at me-make faces at me-get near me-sit quietly and stare straight ahead" rule on public transportation does not apply to Wiley-man. That, too, is another story...or a few stories.

Anyway...back to the guards...

Finally, they started marching in. With a band. Who knew?

They lined up in their rows. A few lines had to be straightened out a bit, which surprised me. Wiley (and Dinosaur Dinosaur pictured below) thought it was funny too when the guards had to shuffle backwards to get in line.

There was a bit of shuffling around, checking out the guard house thing they stand in front of, a constant marching of the flags back and forth in front of the Palace, and then the band played some tunes. Our new Aussie friend noted that they were looking at sheet music while playing (they had music stands and everything); you would think they would have memorized the songs since they do it every other day? Maybe they take turns and it is a lot to memorize in addition to trying to be in straight lines (more challenging than one might think, apparently?)

So, we listened and watched. Then we watched the Metropolitan Police on horseback. The Police had already hollered out that there are "thieves operating in the area, and to guard your bags and belongings carefully." This small town girl was quite paranoid! Finally, Wiley had had enough. I don't know if I ever saw the guard in front of the palace actually change. Does he change? Who are the other soldiers lined up in rows? Are they coming in too? I wished I had someone to explain it to me! I think we saw the Grenadier Guard since the plumes were white.

Here is a website where you can read about what we saw!

Bottom line: Wiley likes guards, so he was happy. After standing there for an hour, he was not happy. This is good for little boys or those who like guards. However, I'm not sure I will be returning to see it. It is obviously a neat tradition, but awfully touristy and a bit hard to see or understand the whole picture. Maybe do your research before going? And it starts at 11:30. You should be there by 10:45 if you want to be near the fence to see, I think. And no, we weren't in jail. We were by the fence. And yes, Dinosaur Dinosaur had a grand time, too.

{Sidenote: Before the ceremony started/as we were walking up to the Palace, a taxi pulled in. The people got out and went into the Palace. Now, how you go anywhere is up to you--tube, taxi, bus, plane, train whatever. But if I am getting to go into Buckling-ham Palace, I am coming in a sleek car. Maybe a Rolls Royce. A classic, vintage one. Maybe I'd stoop to a BMW? But certainly, not a taxi (although currently taxis are a luxury for us!). I mean, come on. You are going to Buckling-ham Palace. Arrive in style! }

Spotted

a "star movie" at Portobello Road market trying on a variety of sunglasses.

could he be setting the trend with a red knit hat and pink shades layered on top of green ones?

eating a cupcake near the market.

no. not hummingbird bakery.

it's a knock-off. but don't tell him.

(mom and dad did not want to stand in the long line.)

*confused? "star movie" = movie star, according to wiley.

we called him a movie star in his red hat. he liked that, and continued to say "i'm a star movie" the rest of lunch. then when i jokingly said "oh look, a "star movie." (referring to him) he looked around the restaurant and said "where?"

i don't know what to think when your 3 year old knows to look for "star movies."

hope you are having a wonderful weekend!

Just Dance...or listen!

Buffett Concert...Thanks for the music influence, Dad!

As I take a quick break from a dance party with this really cute 3 year old, I have a question or a thought about the music we listen to these days. {No, this isn’t a diatribe about rap because I can’t lie, I enjoy 50 Cent, Akon, and Usher about as much as the next girl.}

Dancing around to Jimmy Buffett (first “the song about cheeseburgers” and now “the shark song”) with my little man, I thought about when I first began to like Jimmy. It started with my Dad, of course, who I think is a closet Parrott Head. My sister sang Cheeseburger in Paradise at a tropical restaurant/bar in Abaco, Bahamas when she was maybe 6. Yes, 6. She also knocked a parrot to the ground on the same day. Sassy, even at 6. (At least, I think 6…correct me if I’m wrong, mom). So if W is on track at all, he too could be singing Buffett at bars (daytime of course!) in 3 years…and when I’m vacationing in the Bahamas…hah!

Point of this whole post is this: What music did you listen to when you were little (aside from Raffi and Ms. Glazner from Pilgrim Preschool) that maybe you didn’t like (but your parents did) or perhaps you did enjoy it (thank you, Jimmy Buffett)? Have you suddenly realized you have come full circle, listening to the same music your parents like?

I’ll give you a couple examples:

My mom used to listen to Rod Stewart. I was not particularly fond of those tapes as they were back in the day. However, in high school, I went to my first Rod Stewart concert. I still love him even though he is too old to be wearing bright pink spandex tops at concerts.

The Eagles? (Okay, I didn’t have anything against them, but now I appreciate that my dad actually liked good music.)?

John Denver? (Wiley already knows Country Roads) (And here is a story: I once found the lyrics to Country Roads in my Dad’s guitar case. I had not heard the song before. I read the lyrics, saw they were good, and decided my dad had been holding out on us. We were going to be rich and famous because my dad had written this fabulous song. Unfortunately, John Denver beat him to the punch, and my dad was only trying to learn the guitar chords and lyrics to sing. Yes, laugh if you must. This is a vivid memory in my mind.)

Oh, and ANY oldies. I think those are always cool. The Temptations? Aretha? Tina Turner (is she an oldie?)? Yes, please!

Who are your “classics” that were cool when your parents were chasing you around and are still cool today?

[speak up friends! Comments welcome! I think you can even comment without signing up. Ain’t too proud to beg, sweet readers. I promise this is the last music post.]