I'm Not Whining About Wine School

One of the goals of this trip was for Laura to get additional wine education. Although I have spent a lot of time on self-study, through reading and travel, I was (and still am) anxious to formalize my credentials by learning from the experts. I signed up for the Intermediate Certificate Course through the Wine and Spirit Education Trust. The WSET is a well-regarded organization that provides professionals in the wine and spirits trade. Some pursue a certificate to help them find a job; for others, it's a job requirement. The course itself is three full days; I took it on consecutive Mondays. It was intense and challenging, and it required a lot of studying--about 40 hours. I can't say I enjoyed it -- it was too much work to actually enjoy it at the time -- but I sure thought about what I learned for several days after each class. The course ended with a difficult examination. This is serious stuff. You have to leave all your materials under the table; you cannot talk to proctor; and you must prove your identify with photo ID before the start of the exam. As I was taking the exam, my stomach was churning, and I was sweating. At one point, I tried to remind myself that my score really doesn't matter. And I couldn't help but think -- I CHOSE to do this. In fact, I CHOSE to PAY MONEY to do this! What was I thinking?Although I won't get my results for six weeks, I'm certain I passed. In the end, however, that's not what was most important. What's important is that I learned a lot, I had fun and I'm going to be able to update my bio to note that I'm now officially Wine and Spirits Institute-educated.

What I Learned At Wine School

So, what did I learn? The most valuable things I learned were (a) what to expect from the most common types of wines (including varieties like chardonnay or cabernet) and what to expect from wines from particular regions (such as South African pinotage or Loire Valley chenin blanc); and (b) how to taste wine in a systematic and critical way. Each day involved about 6 hours of lecture together with the tasting of 18 wines. We sipped (and spit) each wine an average of 3-4 times as we judged the color on two criteria, the nose (smell) on three criteria and the palate (taste) on six criteria. It was methodical and thorough. We did this by tasting, swirling and spitting wine all day. This had an unexpected consequence. By the end of each day although I had never actually swallowed a drop, I found the idea of a relaxing glass of wine repulsively stomach-turning. Despite this, the tastings were invaluable. By using this tasting method (the WSET folks refer to it as the "Systematic Approach to Tasting"), I have a very effective way to compare wines. As a result, I can tell you what a wine should look, smell and taste like just by knowing what grapes it is made from, where it was grown and when it was bottled. As a result, I can better describe why I don't like a certain wine and I have a good chance of avoiding similiar wines in the future. In addition, I'm more than ready to write wine-tasting notes now--all I need is for the Central Oregonian to spring for the shipment of wines to write about each month!

Wine School: A Spouse's Perspective

Scott was supportive of Laura's desire to go to wine school while we were here. "You already know most of what they're going to teach you, but if you need the piece of paper to prove it to someone else, here's the perfect chance to get it," he said. Scott, unlike Laura, isn't a wine snob. In fact, he's more of a wine slob. Laura recently gave him a taste test of red wines, where he managed to get five out of five varietals wrong. Basically, he knows three kinds of wine: red, white and pink and he still uses the "choose the pretty label" and "expensive must be better" methods to pick wine in the grocery. Being married to Laura, he has picked up a few things: don't put red wine with fish (usually) or white wine with beef (usually), don't discriminate against wine just because it has a screw top and don't serve wine in plastic glasses. That's about it. He isn't even ready for the beginner class at Wine and Spirits Insitute, much less the advanced. So when Laura came home talking about the "fifth sense" being umami and discussing "terroire" and going on about sherry, I thought she was referring respectively to soybeans from Japan, the dog and my sister-in-law respectively. But I did what husbands do best: I listened attentively, looked interested, nodded approvingly at the right points and basked once again in the sheer pleasure of knowing that I married a really smart woman who's even smarter now. By the way, dear, can you bring me a glass of wine: whatever's red and on the counter will be just fine.

Third Time's A Charm: The London Transport Museum

We have now been (as a family) three times to Covent Garden where the London Transport Museum is located, but each time previously, distractions caused us to miss one of its main attractions, the London Transport Museum. This time we showed steely determination in marching past the street performers and straight to our destination. It was worth the effort. The girls loved climbing on wagons, busses, trains cars and tube cars, and Mom and Dad marvelled at the details of the contstruction and operation of one of the most complex public transportation systems in the world. We were surprised to learn that the system itself is more than a century old and that our western suburb of Hammersmith was one of the earliest suburban areas connected to Central London. The girls also got the chance to lie down in a mocked-up air raid shelter replicating those which were used for refuge by 130,000 Londoners nightly during the Blitz, and we contemplated together what London must have been like 100 years ago when the Thames was giant sewer and the smoke and "fug" of industrial smoke (that's an English word) hung heavy in the air. Something must have sunk in about all that with Olivia because when we left, while her sisters insisted on keeping their souvenir entry cards with 13 hole punches carefully collected at various stations around the museum, Olivia decided to deposit hers back in the recycle bin for the good of the environment.

An Afternoon At The Movies

We had lunch at a cafe near Leicester Square with Scott choosing fish and chips and Laura trying falafel. It was quite British, much to the dismay of the girls who were unsuccessful in begging their parents to make a McDonald's run. Despite that, they enjoyed their pasta and their fresh-squeezed apple-juice. We then headed to our afternoon destination, a nearby cinema where we all watched Hotel For Dogs. The cinema experience was a little different than what we've encountered before. Leicester Square is in the heart of London's theatre district, and interestingly, the cinema is run as if it were a cinema. First, the seats are assigned. Second, the number of chairs is relatively small for each screen. (Our auditorum probably held 75 max.) Third, there is an usher in each auditorium to show you to your seat and preserve order, at least at the start of the film. Finally, the auditorium itself has a heavy emphasis on decor. We didn't fully understand going in that we weren't going into a standard movie theater which caused us to make one mistake: when the cashier offered us front-row seats, we declined them, not wanting the experience of being overwhelmed by the screen and emerging with a neckache. In retrospect, given the layout of the theater, what we had been offered were the best seats in the house. Oh well. Live and learn.

The Center of the World

Before leaving home, I was thumbing through a book at Barnes and Noble giving advice to young men. The author, a Brit, advised his readers: "Never live more than 50 miles from London." I really didn't understand that comment at the time, but that was before I fully comprehended just how completely the British really do believe that the capital city of their tiny little island is indeed the center of the universe. I don't know exactly when Britain accepted that the earth revolves around the sun and not the other way around, but I now know that they live with the sure and certain conviction that when God first parted the waters in Genesis, the first thing to emerge was the island of Britain (excepting the Republic of Ireland, of course.) The above two images are examples of what we see all the time. Notice the heading on the first, a map of transatlantic cables, taken at the Royal Institution. The banner reads: "Britain: The World Center." Now look closely at the map we saw today in the London Transport Museum which displays: London, the British Isles (minus the Republic of Ireland) and "All The Rest of the World." Is it any wonder that when Sir Walter Raleigh was locked up and bored in the Tower of London and he decided to pass the time by writing a book called "The History of the World", it turned out to be--surprises, surprise--a book about England.

Why Europeans Love Obama: One Man's Answer

Scott had lunch downtown today with a Brit introduced by a mutual friend. It was a wonderful opportunity to talk with someone about the differing perceptions of Americans and Britons about the world in which we live and to share insights about our particular cultures. My favorite discussion had to be the one we had about the new president. I observed that while Americans are very hopeful for good leadership from Barack Obama and of course we celebrate his election as a breakthrough in race relations, we all temper our hopes with reality that the political system imposes real restraints on any President's ability to make significant change. Europeans, I observed, don't see to understand this and, if anything, are greater Obama fans than their American counterparts. John's response was unhestitating: "Of course we like him. The alternative was that horrible woman from Alaska who kills things!" The depth of European revulsion for Sarah Palin caught me off-guard, but John explained it was a major factor here as the election unfolded. "You have to remember that America leads the world, and the President is more than the President is the de-facto leader of the world," he said. "A 73-year-old cancer survivor and a killer won't likely run the world in a direction most Europeans could support!" It was one of many topics we covered, including why Britons puts up with queues, trash bags that don't open and the future of the world economy, potential for reform of the American healthcare system, the culture of poverty and the future of the American political system. It was one of those thoughtful conversations that makes me love travel.

No Parking On Avenue Q

Despite our best efforts, our plans around here have an irritating way of going awry. Tonight is the night that Laura was to take the two little girls to see Avenue Q at the Noel Coward Theater, a friendly little play featuring a bunch of Muppet type charcters. We bought the tickets for this performance some weeks ago. Yesterday, Scott travelled into Central London to pick them up, only to find the box office unexpectedly closed. Today, he made another trip, only to be told that Ticketmaster hadn't delivered tickets yet for today. With time running short, Laura and the girls, dressed in their theater-going best, headed off to brave the will-call line ahead of showtime. That's when we learned that something was deeply amiss. According to the theater, Ticketmaster has no record of having sold us any tickets. The theater offered to sell tickets at the door but at the same time made it clear that little children weren't going to be welcomed at the theater. At this point, Laura had had enough and returned home. The disappointment of the girls was quickly assuaged with a stop at the Disney store. While we hated missing the show, it was certainly fun to see the girls all dressed up in their finery, especially Meredith in the newly purchased hat which this was her first chance to wear.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

A Visit To The Library

Yesterday, while waiting around for the lecture to start at Westminster Cathedral, I had to kill some time so I ducked into the public library for the city of Westminister on the second floor of the City Hall. Westminister, for those who don't know, is the city at the center of London and is home to the Parliament for the United Kingdom, Westminister Abbey, the various Cabinet offices and more than 234,000 people. The library at city hall is the newest of the 12 branch facilities operated by the City of Westminster. To get there, I had to go through the city planning department and some other workers busy at their desks. When I got inside, I still wasn't sure I was in the right place. The "library" consists of a single large room, maybe the size of two offices at the county courthouse at home. There are a few books, a few computer terminals and a few periodicals. There were perhaps 5000 titles in all. The biography section consists of a single shelf (not a section--a shelf--pictured above.) For fun, I ran a search on the library catalogue of two subjects whose biographies I am currently seeking: George III and Oliver Cromwell. Despite the fact that the entire Westminster system claims to have a little over 5000 biographies total, it has none specifically on George III, one of England's most acclaimed monarchs. It has three on Oliver Cromwell, only one of which is available for checkout and the wait for that one is 48 days. By contrast, our public library at home has its own enormous building, a collection of 70,000+ items, meetings rooms, programs, banks of computers, etc., etc., etc. , and this is not considered a luxury but a standard part of government services. As a county commissioner I heard constantly about the unmet needs of our local library, but having seen what others have to work with, I'm more aware than ever of the need to count our blessings for what we've got!

A Visit To Somerset House

Today we visited Somerset House, a mansion along the Thames in the heart of downtown London. It was built by the Lord Protector of England, Edward Seymour, after his nephew, Edward VI , son of Henry VIII, became a king as a child. Unfortunately for Seymour, he overstepped himself and lost his head shortly before the mansion was completed, but many royals thereafter thought it a very fine home indeed. We took a guided tour, which unfortunately focused more on the architectural detail than the history. (If you are a little girl, say BORING!) Still, to the adults at least, it was interesting to learn that the Thames used to flow under a part of the house to allow boats to disembark their passengers in the basement. It was also interesting to see some of the clever architecture used to build truly impressive staircases and to see the statues representing the four continents which were installed in 1775. Three of the statues, Europe, Asia and Africa, carry produce in their hands. Only the fourth (shown at left), representing America, holds a spear in its hand, reflecting the trouble the British were having with their colonies at that time. This place is also the place where stamps were affixed after the hated Stamp Act was imposed in 1763. Both Laura and Scott were surprised to find out that the Stamp Act was not only imposed on Americans; it was imposed equally on the British. That's something you never learn in American history!

We Ring The Bells of St. Mary's

Shortly into our visit to Somerset House, a voice came over the loudspeaker instructing everyone to exit immediately via the nearest exit. The voice said only that "An incident has been detected." We hurried into the street without a clue as to the cause of the evacuation, although we later learned it was a false fire alarm. With nothing to do but wait, we went across the street and wandered into the church of St. Mary le Strand. It is a lovely little church, set right in the middle of the street. The architecture is over-the-top gorgeous and heavy on plaster carving. The warden was very friendly and told us all about it, but best of all, he offered to let the little girls ring the bell in the bell tower. They thought that was great fun and rang vigorously (above)until told to stop so as to not accidently call all the little old ladies in the neighborhood to services!

Attending the Cardinal's Lecture

Westminster Cathedral

Laura's education on this trip was her wine class. Scott prefers his education in more bite-sized pieces, like one-time lectures. So it was that he went tonight to Westminster Cathedral to hear the Cardinal's lecture given by the Archbishop of Westminster Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor. The lecture was at the cathedral with probably 1000 people attending. The cardinal discussed his view of the past, present and future of the Roman Catholic church in England. He said the church's mission continues to revolve around two goals: keep the faith and the conversion of all England. That last one seemed a bit big, but the cardinal emphasized that as England and Western Europe grow more secular, it is important to demonstrate that faith and eligion are relevant to contemporary life and not just some esoteric ritual, and he emphasized that the church which is most relevant will be the one which wins the most adherents. He said a lot more which I found very thought provoking but there is too much to summarize here. The Cardinal's Lecture can be found be following this link. At the end of the lecture, the cardinal took questions from the audience. Amazingly, there were no hecklers and no protesters. People were reverent and respectful in a way you just wouldn't experience in the United States, where a cardinal giving a lecture would be accompanied by a lot of security, certainly would not open the floor to questions unless the audience were first carefully prescreened and would absolutely have to deal with protesters. While our freedom of speech is a much cherished right, the British sense of civility does have its advantages.

We Make Our Pilgrimage To Canterbury Cathedral

We travelled to Canterbury today in about 90 minutes southeast of London by train. This has been a "must see" destination for us since our arrival, owing to the presence there of Canterbury Cathedral, the center of the world Anglican Communion. Ash Wednesday seemed like the perfect day to undertake the journey. The Cathedral is an impressive pile of stone. It is actually the third cathedral on the spot, the previous two wooden cathedrals having burned. Still, the present one dates only from 1070, so there's still plenty of history on display. We saw an amazing ceiling in a chapel in the crypt. The ceiling paintings are original to the first construction of the building and once covered the lower level of the cathedral but were all whitewashed over time. This one escaped only because it was behind a support wall. It is hard to imagine how beautiful the lower portion must have been when it was all painted. Other sites at the cathedral were the site of the martyrdom of Thomas A Becket, the tomb of the black prince, including his original funeral clothing dating to back to 1376 and of course, the amazingly tall vaulted ribbed ceilings and miles of stained glass. Throughout our visit we were constantly given little mini-loectures by helpful volunteers. The whole experience was far different from what we encountered at Notre Dame in Paris just a week ago, in that it had less of the feel of a tourist gtrap and more of the feel of a house of worship. It was also far less crowded. While the distance to Canterbury makes it tough to see this UNESCO-designated world heritage site, it is worth the journey, and it is hard to imagine how the feel of the place would be changed if it were in the center of London, where the hordes of tourists would descend upon it daily.

Little Angels, Indeed

We planned our trip to Canterbury Cathedral to be able to attend services at 11:15. We were somewhat surprised to find upon arrival that services were to be held in the crypt of the church rather than the main sanctuary. It was a small and intimate space with mostly local parishioners in attendance. It was so small that we ended up sitting on the front row. You should have seen the look of horror on the faces of both the priest and the parishioners when they saw that our small children clearly intended to stay for services. But they needn't have feared. The girls were absolutely perfect throughout the service, and we were nearly mobbed at the end by people, including the priest, rushing up to compliment us on our "exceptional children" One elderly lady told us, "I have to confess to you that my heart sank when I saw your children because, well, when children come to church they chatter, but I never heard a peep out of yours. They are really amazing girls--even the little one!" This may sound horrifying to our readers stateside, but we have heard this same thing about our children so many times on this trip that it no longer phases us. Our girls are well behaved because they are practiced at sitting still, involved in what's going on and appropriately threatened and bribed by their parents. This is an unclear concept to the English who 1) don't attend church very often and 2) don't seem to embrace the idea of parents' taking a firm hand with children. Perhaps they leavediscipline to the headmasters at the boarding schools. It is really one of the most a striking cultural difference between England and the States which we have encountered.

Chaucer's Tales Strangely Told

Our next stop post-services was McDonald's--the bribe used in part to bring about good behaviour in the service. Given Canterbury's tourist-based economy, it was really too bad we had to go to the culinary desert because there were a lot of cool pubs and cafes that looked like good candidates for dining adventure. However, a reward was promised, and we had to deliver. After lunch, we went to Canterbury's other "big" attraction: the Canterbury Tales Museum. I don't know how to describe this attraction. Laura called it "Disneyland Without the Rides." Visitors walk through several rooms filled with cheesey looking mannequins and props where animated characters narrate various of Chaucer's Canterbury tales. You emerge perplexed at the other end. On the one hand, you know more about Chaucer's famous stories than when you went in. On the other, you feel like you've just spent 20 pounds and 35 minutes to see pure schtick. It's an odd little place, and I think I'm glad we saw it, but I'm not sure I would go out of my way to see it on a future trip.

Romans Redux

We decided we had time for one more major stop, so we headed over to the Roman Museum. You may not know that in addition to her interest in wine and the British Museum, Laura is obsessed with all things Roman. Just because you've already seen three sets of ruined roman baths on this trip alone plus a few million pieces of broken Roman glass and pottery and who knows how many partial mosaics is not a good reason not to stop and look again. So we did. And we saw the same old stuff (although the oversize Roman glass jars and the recovered silver utensils which looked like they had been made yesterday were pretty cool.) The girls particularly liked playing in the "hands on" gallery in the basement, where Olivia and Dad combined forces to put together a quite impressive mosaic using bits of tile with magnetic backs. it was surely going to be a masterpiece until Olivia excused herself to go to the bathroom and Dad stepped over to help Meredith with something. That's when the Barbarian showed up at the gates of our newly created Rome and with a single swipe of her hand wiped out our newly created cultural artifact . We have taken to calling her Cecily the Hun.

Concluding our A-Mazing Day

With the sites of Canterbury shutting down, we decided to head for home. But not before we made a quick stop in the park to explore the maze! The girls have been begging us to find them a maze ever since we missed the opportunity to explore the one at Hampton Court when it shut down ahead of the rest of the palace before we had a chance to explore it. The girls loved chasing each other around the dead-ends and corridors and actually became quite proficient at negotiating the thing. They were quite disappointed when we had to leave to explore the ruins of the Norman Castle located near the train station, but not nearly as disappointed as Mom and Dad were to trek to the castle only to find it inexplicably closed a full half hour before the closure time posted on the gate. We reversed course, went to the train station and took the long ride home. With 90 minutes to kill, Olivia used the opportunity to tackle her first ever chess game against Scott and, not surprisingly, proved herself quite adept at thinking several moves ahead. She lost, of course, but she'll likely be able to beat Dad within a few months if she keeps practicing (which wouldn't be hard for anyone of even moderate talent.)

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In Search of Shrove Tuesday Pancakes

The lonely pancake van at Victoria Tower Gardens. The stage, not quite set up, at Covent Garden. Better pancakes than they were serving at parliament and Covent Garden anway.

This being Shrove Tuesday( the day before Lent begins on Ash Wednesday), we decided to join the rest of the English in traditional observance by attending the pancake races. We set off for the Victoria Tower Gardens to watch members of parliament race members of the press to a finish line while flipping pancakes. Knowing the event started at 10:15 and lasted for an indeterminate amount of time, we set off at 10. That's when our troubles began. As we entered the station, the train--the slow one on the district line--was at the platform getting ready to depart. We hurried down the stairs to catch it. The warning bell rang as Scott carrying Cecily squeezed through the doors. Laura shouted, "We won't make it!" as the doors slid shut squarely on Scott's shoulder. Although the doors weren't pressuring him they weren't reversing either. "We'll see you at Westminster." Laura cried, as Scott and Cecily disappeared into the train. The two little girls left behind were more than a little dismayed but all was better once when all caught up with each other again at the Westminster station some 20 minutes later. We hurried out of the station and down Whitehall but were puzzled to find the gardens empty except for maintenance workers. That's when it dawned on us. We were in the Victoria Embankment Gardens. The Victoria Tower Gardens are on the other side of Westminister Palace. Off we hurried, hoping to catch the last race, but our timing was now deeply flawed. We arrived to find only a lonely pancake van. It was the beginning of a quest which would end in a most unexpected manner. Read down the blog to find out more about this adventure!

The Royal Institution

After our unsuccessful sojourn with the pancake races, we headed to the Royal Institution. This illustrious center of London scientific life was founded in 1799 and is the oldest scientific research institution in the world. It's most notable prodigy is Michael Faraday who pioneered the theory of electromagnetism that drives the world of electricty and communications today. Faraday and his mentor, Humphrey Davy, were so famous in their day that London invented the one-way street to control the crowds arriving to hear their lectures at the Institution. While all that features prominently, the Institution is about many other kinds of science as well as is still a laboratory of worldwide prominence. We had fun learning a song about the periodic table of the elements (see clip.) We played a game where we pretended to be molecules of various elements using our hands and legs to join other elements and make new compounds. (Laura makes a terrible Berrylium because she refused to put both hand and both legs into the air at the same time.) e learned about the properties of magnetism and electricy, and we browsed the amazing library of the Institution, which amazingly is not monitored and not behind glass. Laura was shocked to pick up one volume and find it to be autographed copy of a book donated to the Institution by Alexander Graham Bell in 1909. We left feeling that it had been a good day for learning.

The Elements Song (for Jared, Lisa, Audrey, Lily and Rebecca)

This is the Elements Song that we played at least 10 times at the Royal Instutition today. The pont of this game is to touch panels on the periodic table representing the elements discovered at the Royal Institution. For Cecily, of course, it was just an opportunity to jump and touch, but the older girls grasped the object, and loved it! We think at least some of our family will love it too! Click on the link above to hear the music. You can follow along with the lyrics below:

There's antimony, arsenic, aluminum, selenium, And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium, And nickel, neodymium, neptunium, germanium, And iron, americium, ruthenium, uranium, Europium, zirconium, lutetium, vanadium, And lanthanum and osmium and astatine and radium, And gold and protactinium and indium and gallium, (gasp) And iodine and thorium and thulium and thallium.

There's yttrium, ytterbium, actinium, rubidium, And boron, gadolinium, niobium, iridium, And strontium and silicon and silver and samarium, And bismuth, bromine, lithium, beryllium, and barium.

There's holmium and helium and hafnium and erbium, And phosphorus and francium and fluorine and terbium, And manganese and mercury, molybdenum, magnesium, Dysprosium and scandium and cerium and cesium. And lead, praseodymium and platinum, plutonium, Palladium, promethium, potassium, polonium, And tantalum, technetium, titanium, tellurium, (gasp) And cadmium and calcium and chromium and curium.

There's sulfur, californium and fermium, berkelium, And also mendelevium, einsteinium, nobelium, And argon, krypton, neon, radon, xenon, zinc and rhodium, And chlorine, carbon, cobalt, copper, tungsten, tin and sodium.

These are the only ones of which the news has come to Hahvard, And there may be many others but they haven't been discahvered!

Random Snaps: A Day Around London

So we didn't see pancake races, but we did see Auguste Rodin's famous Burghers of Calais bronze in Victoria Tower Gardens (with its poignant story of hostages taken by Edward III 1347 who intended to kill them but was convinced to free them by his preganant wife). The girls took a seat in the Royal Institution's famous lecture hall where many famous principles of science have been demonstrated; We admired the facade of the Institution itself, situated near Old Bond Street, which is lined with shops bearing names like Cartier and DeBeers. (No, those nice guys in suits standing just inside the doors with the bulge under their coats aren't just there to help you pick jewelry!) We saw the amazing collection at the library of the Institution, and we enjoyed Rudy Weller's Four Bronze Horses of Helios sculpture at Picadilly Circus. (Do you know the names of the horses that pull the sun across the sky? We do now: Pyrois, Eos, Aethon and Phlegon. That's them above. Really.)

Ready For the Runway

While shopping with Mom for a new purse, Olivia and Meredith each found the "perfect" accessory to their respective raincoats and were quite vexed when Dad said "no" to spending 30 pounds apiece for little-girl purses, no matter how cute. Disappoined but resigned to fiscal reality, they agreed to make do with a promise of picture and a blog post of them showing off their fashion sense.

We Are Robbed In Further Search of Pancakes

Our plan to visit the pancake races in the morning having been foiled, we headed for Covent Garden late in the afternoon to see a pancake flipping competition we had read about. We arrived well before the event began, so we thought we would wander around and enjoy the street performances. The crowds were large, so Laura took Cecily on her shoulders so that she could see. Scott had Meredith on his shoulders standing a short distance away. At some point, Laura felt someone beside her jostle her, and she moved her hand down on to her purse. Alas, it was not until we were in a cafe warming up with a hot chocolate that she discovered that someone had taken a knife and slit the side of her purse in an attempt to grab the valuable therein. Fortunately for Laura, her jostling prevented any access except into the side pocket, and the thief got away with only her cell phone--easily replaceable for five pounds. The thief left the half drunk diet coke resting in the same pocket . Covent Garden is particularly notorious as a place where petty crimininal prey on locals and tourists in particular. These things always happen to other people, however. One never imagine that oneself will be the victim. At this point we had lost interest in pancake races/competitions and in Covent Garden itself. We rectified the situation with a quick shopping trip to the stores in our own neighborhood, where Laura found an adquate replacement purse for just under 6 pounds. And with that, we headed home--where Laura fixed pancakes far better than those we would have found anywhere in the city.

A Day At Home Doesn't Mean A Day Without Education

The pancake mix in a plastic bottle; Cecily and Meredith as Merry Maids; Olivia researching homework on the internet (a skill at which she has become quite adept.)

Laura had her final wine class today, and Olivia was under the weather, so we spent the day at home, alternately sleeping and catching up on homework, especially the math book which Olivia has been avoiding. The little girls engaged their favorite pastimes of watching cartoons and slopping the stoop. Whether anything gets clean is seriously in doubt, but it is great fun to spread the water around. We also took time to marvel at the spectacle of Dad ironing his own shirts. "Why don't you just send them to the laundy," Meredith asked? We also took advantage of the time to experiment with a few new cultural experiences. Olivia and Dad played a game called Nine Men's Morris which we learned about in Portsmouth at the Mary Rose exhibition. It's sort of an advanced and expanded tic tac toe. After a couple false starts to master the rules, Olivia cleaned the floor with Dad. Meanwhiile, Meredith was in a culinary mood. She wanted to try combining different fruit juices to find out if there was a drinkable result. We actually decided orange and apple is pretty darn good. Try it if you haven't. Lastly, we experimented with Tesco pre-mixed pancakes. The mix comes in a plastic bottle. You simply add milk to the top of the label, shake and pour into the pan. This produced a thin, crepe-like pancake which was far different from the thick pancakes we are used to. Despite that, they were tasty and best of all there was no mess to clean once we were through! We ended the day with a trip to the Crabtree Pub in our neighborhood for a quiet dinner to celebrate Mom's finishing her course.

Another Sunday, Another Cathedral

There are four cathedrals in London. Herein, we have previously mentioned and attended three--St. Paul's and Southwark, which cover the Anglican dioceses north and south of the Thames, and Westminister, which is the great Roman Catholic cathedral. We had not known initially about the fourth cathedral, St. Georges, which covers the Roman Catholic diocese south of the Thames. That was our destination of choice for this morning's services. I am glad we did it because it was a very different experience than we have had so far in London's "brand name" houses of worship. St. Georges is in the "gritty" park of town. It does not serve well-heeled tourists and society people but rather it is the church of the working man. People go there not to be seen but to find spirituality. A large part of the congregation is black, and in the African tradition, the brighly colored headscarves, hats and dresses on the women add to the show. The men's choir adds to the pageantry and is aided by some beautiful voices in the congregation. . The best I can describe it is the way I have encountered other great churches. It is as like Westminster in London meets Abbysinian Baptist in New York with a dash of Christ Cathedral in Zanzibar. Despite the priest with the heavily African-accented English and the lack of showing jewels and adornments, it was certainly the most authentic house of worship we have yeet encountered in London, and it may be my new favorite as well.

We Go To The War Museum

The Imperial War Museum is just across the park from St. Georges, so it was the obvious destination for the day. This edifice has six floors of galleries which discuss World Wars I and II primarily but also conflicts between and after in which Britain has been formally involved. The girls expressed reservations about visiting, but in the end, it was their parents who insisted on leaving, exhausted by the barrage of questions which were shot at us with increasing velocity as we continued through the exhibits. The girls were fascinated by the experience of the more than 2,000,000 children who were evacuated from London during the Second World War. They studied gas masks with great interest. We went inside a World War I trench and found it to be much like a small city. We studied bombs and airplanes and talked about the roles of our grandparents and great grandparents in various conflicts. We tried to make up a year's wardrobe using ration coupons. Dad's supply list equalled 56 coupons--16 more than the 40 allowed, but Mom was positively profligate at 90. The Olivia took a turn and to her horror racked up a whopping 99, forcing her to return more than half of her "essentials" We learned sobering things about the Kaiser and Hitler, the Tsar and Stalin, the Holocaust, Germany, Russia and the Cold War. When we got home tonight, Olivia asked, "Dad, why do people make wars anyway?" Not knowing what else to tell her, I told her that wars are about taking power or defending yourself against people who want to take power from you. She sniffed contemptuously and said, "Wars are stupid. We should just have peace." Can you really disagree?

Fun and Games

As I write this, my 3-year-old and 5-year-old are in their room. It involves two bath towels laid end to end across the room with a gap in the middle and on both ends. The object as near as I can tell is for one to patrol while the other one looks for an opportunity to race through the gap or around either end. If the runner is caught, she is shoved back to the other side of the towel with force and glee. The name they have given this game is "Berlin Wall." It would appear that today's trip to the Imperial War Museum was not entirely lost on their young and impressionable minds. I am never sure as we drag little girls through one museum and historical site to the next whether all this (or any of this for that matter) is sinking in. Then they play games like the one they invented tonight, and I think perhaps we aren't wasting our time after all. I had a similiar experience two days ago in Portsmouth. As we strolled around the harbour, we observed a shallow slip in which some small watercraft. Cecily, ever-observant, looked over the rectangular, stone walled enclosure and asked, "Did Romans bathe there?" Indeed, something is processing in those little heads.

Finally, A Slow Day

All was quiet today after Linda and Bill departed for the airport about 10, accompanied by Laura and Olivia to send them off. There were reportedly tears on all sides. Meanwhile, at home, Scott and the little girls undertook some needed domestic chores, including shopping and housecleaning. After the hyperactive pace of the last few weeks, everyone needed a break. When Laura and Olivia returned home, Olivia set out to finish neglected homework (Yes, Olivia, I KNOW it's Saturday) while Laura studied for her final in her wine class Monday. The little girls watched cartoons while Scott headed for the laundromat, dragging a suitcase stuffed with sheets and towels. In many ways, it was just as well we stayed at home. Not only are many of the major tube lines down for maintenance this weekend, but the weather is absolutely gorgeous--the best we've seen since arriving here. As a result, enormous numbers of groundhog-esque Britons came out of their holes today and took to the streets and sidewalks. Although London streets are always busy, I think there were two or three times as many people about as usual today. I can't even imagine what places like Covent Garden must have been like today. For us, we were just glad to bask in the sunshine, the blissful pigritude of having nowhere in particular to be and the pleasure of each other's company.

Olivia's Journal: Paris

Wednesday, I went to Paris. I cidn't see the eiffel tower, thou. We took a train--as Cecily calls it, The Big Choo Choo. It goes under the ocean, but all you could see was black walls. Then, when we got there, we rode on the thing called the Metro. First we went to the Roman roons (ruins). It was very fun. We saw lots of things. My favrit part was the part where if a bilding fell down then they bilt on top so it just kep getten biger and biger. Then we went to Notre Dame. It had the most pretyest stain glass I've ever seen. There was a praticyalar two that I liked . One was called the flower. (The rose window, shown at right.) It was this big colorful flower. My other favred was a disine (design). Next we had lunch. Me and my sisters shared a spageti. Me and Cecily had hot chocolate. Man, that stuff was GOOOD. Then we went to the Arc de Triomphe. If you wnted to go under it y0ou have to pay. The Arc de Triomphe is to celabrate all napoleon's battles. Then we went to Luxembourg (Gardens) and got to choose a pony and rode it. Then I got to ride aon a carisell. Last we went to Montmartre and took the funicular up. We saw lots and lots of smog. But we had a butiful look over Paris. Then we inside a cothydroll. Then we went on the funicular agin ,russed back and went hom all in one day.

Farewell to Aunt Linda and Uncle Bill

Today was Aunt Linda and Uncle Bill's last in London. We celebrated with pub food in Portsmouth, where we were pleased to discover that once you get outside London, people actually talk to you! This stands in stark contrast to the city itself where if you lay dying on the street most people would step around or over you while hurrying to their next destination. On the way home on the train, Linda and Bill went out of their way to thank us for the hospitality at our little B&B, telling us that acronym now stands for Blood & Blisters. Considering that we've seen all the major sites of London, tramped over Tower Hill for a day, gone to Paris, walked all over Greenwich and taken the train to Portsmouth, all on a limited breakfast, fast lunch and late dinner, that's probably pretty accurate. Oh well, at least people who visit us can't complain they sit around the house all day and don't see anything!

A Voyage To Portsmouth

Today, we took a train to Portsmouth on the southern coast of England--a tube and train ride of about two hours. It was an absolutely beautiful day to see the English countryside and to enjoy on the coast. Portsmouth's claim to fame is that it is the center of English naval history and tradition, with about two-thirds of the British fleet based there. More importantly, from a tourism perspective, it has several permanently moored ships, which were high on Scott's list of "must see's" for this trip. The star of the show is the HMS Victory, Nelson's flagship which led the fleet to victory at Trafalgar. Very regrettably, it allows only a limited number of visitors, and the weather brought out the tourists and we were too late in arriving to get a ticket. We did, however, get to walk through the HMS Warrior, the largest, finest ship of the British Victorian navy, and we toured the wreck of the Mary Rose--Henry VIII's pride and joy and the only intact 16th century warship in the world. It is presently being conserved having been raised from teh ocean bottom after more than 400 years along with its 19,000 artefacts (so far). It is incredibly fragile, and can only be viewed behind glass at this point, but you can easily see the outlines of the giant and impressive ship it once was. Further, much of what was recovered from the ship offers a rare glimpse into Tudor times that simply doesn't exist anywhere else. By no means did we see all of what Portsmouth has to offer. A trip through the Trafalgar Gallery, the Naval Museum and the Victory plus a Harbour Tour would have been wonderful but there simply wasn't time. If you're ever in the vicinity, this place is definitely worth the stop.