Phoning Home

It's day ONE here in England. I want to start by thanking my children (Harry, Charlotte, you'll read this one day when you have your own children and understand), for being angels on the flight. How good? Paul and I both nodded off for a few minutes. That good. And they persevered through customs and a 30-minute wait for the shuttle to our Heathrow hotel in the dead of night. If there is a lesson here, fellow parents: the day flight rocks.

None of us wanted to wake this morning, but we managed and made to to Cambridge by 1:30 p.m. where we checked into the Varsity Hotel and Spa (highly recommended) and began to explore. The kids went out with dad and I went to the nextdoor salon (it's paul's birthday and he insisted, how nice is that?). My stylist Christoffe (yes, really) got grilled and had a slew of useful recommendations. Make no mistake - I miss my British stylist in DC, the wonderful Glynn Jones, no comparison, but we have Christoffe to thank for a yummy dinner.



We had the kids out at the park until 8 p.m., when it was bloody bright outside! Just wrong. We strolled by the cam, visited the Jesus Green lido (a 64 degree pool where the crazy Brits were dutifully swimming), harassed the mallards and the joggers (since we were all walking on the wrong side of the running path) and stopped in a pup for a birthday toast.

Tomorrow we secure a car (a loaner from paul's sponsor), take a tour of the 3-bedroom house we may be renting for a few weeks, and visiting RAF Lakenheath to get cell phones and a bank account.

Despite the rather mundane errands, it REALLY feels like we're on vacation.