York: Day 1

We decided to take a short holiday before the start of school, so we packed our bags and hopped the train to York, complete with the grandparents and The Bean.

Cambridge to York via Peterborough

Waiting for our Connection to York

AquaVision!

York is a walled city, situated at the confluence of the Rivers Ouse and Foss in North Yorkshire. The city has a rich heritage and has provided the backdrop to major political events throughout much of its two millennia of existence. The city was founded by the Romans in 71 AD, under the name of Eboracum. It became in turn the capital of the Roman province of Britannia Inferior, and of the kingdoms of Northumbria and Jorvik. In the Middle Ages, York grew as a major wool trading centre and became the capital of the northern ecclesiastical province of the Church of England, a role it has retained. In the 19th century York became a hub of the railway network and a manufacturing centre.

Our motley crew covered a lot of ground in three days: the spectacular York Minster, the National Railway Museum (three times! for Lucky Harry), which I'll note is the home of the Hogwarts Express (Lucky Mommy!), the Jorvik Viking Museum and 2.5 miles of stone walls that date back to the Romans and still partially ring the beautiful city.

But perhaps the highlight of our short Day 1 was our room in the Grange Hotel where the children enjoyed 'AquaVision,' positively the BEST way to get kids into the tub sans complaint.

Many thanks go to The Bean, who hauled me to an NHS clinic after I developed a wicked infected eye in Cambridge. It was my first experience with NHS (I have nothing but compliments). Saw a doc, got diagnosed (all free) and then spent 7 quid on a prescription that fixed me right up (after a few days in York looking like I'd been punched in the face.)

King's College

Inside the chapel

The grandparents' arrival has given us an opportunity (and reason, at last) to start exploring Cambridge's more well-known colleges (there are 31 total). A few of them are spectacular, starting with King's college, which is a very short walk from the house. Henry VI (1421-1471) founded King's College in 1441. The College's buildings were intended to be a magnificent display of the power of royal patronage, and Henry went to great lengths to ensure that King's College Chapel would be unequalled in size and beauty.

I was delighted to learn that as Cambridge residents we get free access to the property. Well worth a visit if you come to see us (and like stained glass. Come to think of it...you can't really escape the stained glass in England, so I believe you just learn to love it). Click on the link for a virtual tour, really spectacular.

We're told you must line up at 3 a.m. to hear King's College's world-famous Choir sing on Christmas day. Not happening. But we hope to catch a rehearsal or an evensong this year. (The Choir owes its existence to King Henry VI, who envisaged the daily singing of services in his magnificent chapel. This remains the Choir's raison d'être, and is an important part of the lives of its 16 choristers, who are educated on generous scholarships at King's College School, and the 14 choral scholars and two organ scholars, who study a variety of subjects in the College.)

Next stops: Trinity and St. Johns Colleges. 

More deep thoughts

 

We're lighting a LOT of candles these days. A LOT.

With a Twist

We're experimenting with a new hairstyle as we transition to the very grown-up world of school: a french braid. While Charlotte complains bitterly when I put her in pigtails, she believes herself positively Rapunzilian when I braid her hair.

A Happy Anniversary

Celebrating our 7th wedding anniversary at Jamie's (Oliver) Italian" in Cambridge.

I never imagined when we married in 2004 that we'd move to England. Life is full of wonderful surprises.

Ely

Boom!

Ely Cathedral

The Barnes clan ventured to Ely (pronounced "eee-lee" ) yesterday where we walked through its vast cathedral, which was built in the 11th century and has played host to a few Hollywood spectaculars, including the movie "Elizabeth."

While there we watched the cathedral's amazing choir rehearse (note to self: must hear one of these incredible chapel choirs perform), and visited the stained glass museum, where the kids used beads to put together their own "stained glass" creations (no lead, thank you very much).

Like most places in and around Cambridge, Ely is a  lovely spot for a walk (and feeding wayward horses).

Making stained glass

Hanging with Oliver Cromwell at his house.

Deep thoughts in the chapel

Mean Irene

An earthquake and a hurricane in less than a week? We're sending virtual Xanax and lots of no-damage, no injury vibes to our friends in the Washington area as Irene passes through and the aged trees in Alexandria start keeling over. We're with you in spirit. Please stay safe.

Gog Magog

Our Cambridge party of four has grown exponentially with the arrival of Zaza and Paba who have kindly not complained about the size of house (yet) and are gearing up, post-jetlag, to have new and exciting adventures with the kids, starting with a trip to York next week.

We took Eliza to Gog Magog (true name) Thursday where we visited the Hills Farm Shop (an AMAZING meat counter and fresh veg). Really, how many spots can you go where you can buy a leg of lamb and then manhandle two ponies and a gaggle of randy geese on your way back to the car? We love this place (if you visit...bring Purell).

'Children's World'

We get a lot of fairs in Cambridge, and I'm sure I've noted, they are pricey (2 pounds a ride, which is $3 American, at best).  Two ice cream cones and a few turns in the moon bounce and you're positively tapped out.  So we were pretty excited with the two-week stay of Children's World: 6 pounds a child -- all you can ride! We visited twice before they pulled up stakes, once with grandma in tow, and it has been nothing but smiles (for me too).

Our Digs

The attic playroom

The boxes are unpacked and basically, this is as good as it's going to get, so I unveil to you the new Potty Mouth headquarters in Cambridge. Please visit!

Charlotte's bay window (Gymbo seems to like it)

Prince Harry's suite

The dining room

A corner of the living room

Master bedroom

Audley End

England is rife with manor houses that, courtesy the National Trust and English Heritage Foundations, have been preserved and opened for the pleasure of the likes of family Smith Barnes. Audley End was recommended by a friend and it is indeed a splendid spot for an afternoon (the renovated stables where you can get up and personal with the pampered horses and try on the livery costumes), the manicured gardens, the house tour (which we skipped this time), the duck and swan pond and the ubiquitous cafe and playground.

And what should be right  next door to Audley? A miniature railway of course--  a 1.5 mile track that wends it way over the River Cam, through a forest dotted with teddy bears and back to the station. We rode the tiny diesel, next time it's the puffing and chuffing steamie, says Harry.

The grandparents arrive in a few days(!!) We think perhaps they'd enjoy a visit.

Land Ho!

Llammas Park, the home of the pirate ship and the invasion of imaginary crocs, remains a big favorite with my motley crew.

Got Hot?

Heatwave got you down? Come visit England, and don't forget to pack a jumper: OnTheRoundabout.

Oh Beehave

Adjusting to the swarms at OnTheRoundabout.

Bon Voyage...

A fond farewell to our American friends: Gayle, Jonathan and their three beautiful children: Julia, Gemma and Rowan, who depart for home on Saturday after three months in Cambridge. Our families arrived in town this summer at nearly the same moment and we've shared must-sees and a few play dates during the last months. Today we lunched together at the train park in Jesus Green. We're sorry to see them go, but perhaps our paths will cross again in the states in the not-too-distant future. Bon Voyage!

Four-wheelers

 Who doesn't remember his first bike? It's right up there with first kiss, driver's permit, high school graduation.  Mine was blue, a Schwinn, so big that my dad put blocks on the pedals to help me reach.

Yesterday Harry and Charlotte got their first bikes at RAF Mildenhall where we picked out a screamin' neon-green jobby for Harry and a super-girly lavender bike with ultra-American streamers on the handlebars for our princess.

Today we took our wheels for genuine test-drive in the neighboring village of Granchester before joining friends for a pub lunch. Much excitement and lots of cracked pavement, mud and grazing livestock (!) to dodge as we traversed the genuinely beautiful bike path, but the kids get A's for effort.  The totally fearless Charlotte went down three times and just kept popping up for more. When she finally got too tired to pedal, our friend Richard's dog, Oscar,  towed our pint-sized spitfire to the pub.

I never want Harry to forget his first ride, specifically the diary cow that tried to mow us down. A first for both of us.

The "Accident"

As I arrived at camp today to pick up Harry from his last session, Counselor Jane informed me my son had had an "accident."

I assumed he didn't make it to the loo in time. But no, this accident involved circle time and Harry being accidentally kicked in the face by another camper (what they doing in circle time I'll never know).

I was asked to sign a form, detailing his injury and their care - an ice pack. Harry informed me he was "very brave, like you mommy. I was a lion."

Big hugs ensued.

The Princess Diaries

Dear Diary -

Today the king and queen bestowed upon me my first tiara. How surprised were we to discover that the family jewels light-up like a disco ball. Mother has suggested I only wear this ensemble indoors, lest I further inflame the hoi polloi.

Strike Zone

So impressed were we with the bowling acumen of our buddy Sabrina, that we visiting the Bowling Center at RAF Alconbury. I was positively stunned to find they stock suede bowling shoes to fit the likes of Charlotte.  Many thanks to our friends in the States for paving the way. It was a great family outing (and thanks to the Air Force, by FAR the most economical adventure to date).

Chicken Littles

Charlotte was yesterday invited to the home of a soon-to-be classmate from Cambridge International School. Claudio, an incredibly sweet little boy, will be attending the Nursery with Ms. Charlotte come autumn.

Yesterday they "dined" on cakes and iced lollies (popsicles), while they played on Claudio's backyard trampoline (i swear every respecting British family has one) and in the chicken coop (i swear every respecting British family has one). Charlotte thought the chickens were the bomb until they mistook her toes for worms. We even collected eggs. Oh how I wish we had a coop, just way too cool, minus all the poop.

Rounders

Game of rounders on Christmas Day at Baroona, Glamorgan Vale, 1913.

The morning report from camp: Harry enjoyed today's parachute games, declined to make paper boats and is apparently very good at "rounders."

"I'm sorry," said I, "at what?"

"He's a solid hitter, we were very impressed," says camp Counselor Jane.

"I'm sorry," repeats I, the confounded American mother, "at what?"

It took some translation from multiple sources, but Harry is apparently a natural at something akin to baseball. I credit his grandfather Jim.

(Courtesy Wikipedia for those equally ignorant: Rounders is a game played between two teams each alternating between batting and fielding. The game originated in England and has been played there since Tudor times, with the earliest reference being in 1744 in A Little Pretty Pocket-Book where it is called "baseball".^[1] It is a striking and fielding team game, which involves hitting a small, hard, leather-cased ball with a round wooden, plastic or metal bat and then running around four bases in order to score.^[1][2] The game is popular in Britain and Ireland among school children.^[3][4]
Game-play centres around innings where teams alternate at batting and fielding. A maximum of nine players are allowed to field at one time. Points ('rounders') are scored by the batting team by completing a circuit around the field through four bases or posts without being put 'out'. )

It's a Riot

While spreading pockets of Britain burn and are looted by, to quote the Washington Post, "rage [that] has appeared blind, apolitical and profoundly selfish," we continue to be isolated from the mayhem. Many of you have emailed to ask, so let me say Cambridge remains (for now?), an idyllic university town crammed with tour buses and ice cream stands and summer holiday retreats.  Cambridge is in East Anglia, far enough from the troubles. For vivid coverage of the attacks, visit the London Times.

After a siege in Notting Hill last night (diners' jewelry was ripped from their necks and wedding rings taken..the chefs battled back with rolling pins....I'm not making this up), you can bet we're putting off our first trip into London for a while.

As one who was in the thick of the LA Riots as a young reporter, I can tell you that looting looks like looting. While both conflicts were touched off by a police action, this event is being fueled on Twitter and Facebook by a criminal element. Depending on who you listen to, it is a clash spurred by anger, race and/or the have-nots upon the haves. 

My admiration goes out to the "broom brigades," collectives of hundreds of Brits, who have arrived at the scenes of the aftermath to help clean-up. The local market, Sainsbury, provides them with, yes you'll be shocked, tea for their efforts.

On The Chopping Block

Suffice it to say, I won't be having my hair done at the salon where Harry just got his "trim." While it may be the style here, he looks a bit like a middle-aged man trying to hide the onset of baldness. He also looks entire too mature. I may put him in footie pajamas tonight to dull my pain.

Happy Birthday....to Me

Despite the presence of a single fork, we did SHARE the cake.

It was a birthday well-spent: an afternoon with my family at the Cambridge Botanical Garden and home later with friends (The Bean and our neighbor Gillian) for a grilled steak, some champagne and a wicked yummy chocolate cake from Patisserie Valerie.

I have nothing profound to say about getting older. But despite the growing stock of collagen creams, I feel very loved. For that I am so grateful.

Many thanks to all for the birthday wishes from afar, they meant a lot.

Mom's Night Out

I enjoyed an early birthday present: a night out with my husband. We strolled a block into town to enjoy a sushi dinner and then, on a whim, hired a punt to take us down the river at twilight, ales in hand. It was a beautiful time to see the river and a great, relaxing evening.  (Note to self: sake and ale do not mix).

Company Retreat

I have never enjoyed the NGA picnics in DC, sorry little affairs with dry burgers and nothing to entertain. So I was dubious about Friday's company picnic. My mistake. The airmen fund-raised for the event, collecting enough money to roast a whole pig (which they began, bless then, at 2 a.m.), and put up three huge moon-bounces (one of them was three stories tall with an obstacle course and a wicked fast slide that had most people sailing off into the bushes and another X-treme sports contraption that had the kids beating the snot out of some older girls who very kindly feigned injury. My hat's off to the lot of them.

Paul got special recognition as the new fish and I'm glad we could be there to hear the raucous applause. On the way home we were treated to a quintessentially British road closure that had me driving 18 miles down country lanes and through tiny villages to bypass the main artery home, which was closed.