May 28-29, 2002

I found this in my drafts folder. I figured I might as well post it.

Our Stay in Bath

When we awoke in the morning, we discovered that which we already should have known. It’s rather chilly in England at the end of May and it rains in the morning. I had only brought two long-sleeve shirts and not a single sweater, and my jacket was practically useless. It wasn’t even water-resistant!

My mother had given me a digital camera and England was my first chance to use it. But I wasn’t quite comfortable with the technology yet, and I wasn’t sure what problems I might encounter in trying to charge the batteries, so I brought my regular camera, too. I took pictures at some places on only one of the cameras, but at some places, I used both. In Bath, I often used my film camera, so the pictures had to be scanned to include them here and they are consequently a little grainy.

Now, as I write this in 2011, I wonder why I’m so determined to set down my memories of this trip. After all, it was just three weeks out of one year, and just one year out of 38. I think the reason is that because over the course of time the days start to blend together, the weeks become a blur, and finally even the years go by in a flash that’s far too fast to recall in detail. Events, such as vacations, are the markers we use to remember our lives. If it weren’t for vacations and occasions like graduations, births, weddings, and holidays, there would be no way to differentiate one year from another, no markers on which to hang the notes of our lives.

In 2002 I had been at my job for nearly seven years, and I had been dating Faithful Reader for about two years. It was less than a year after 9/11. And that, offhand, is about all I can recall of 2002 except for this vacation. Remembering how I felt and thought during that trip helps to connect me with that time of my life, a year otherwise almost completely lost.

To continue, on the morning of the 28th we went to the famous Roman Baths. Because I’m something of a hoarder, I still have my ticket, so I know that it cost £10.50 then (about $16.00) and I bought it at 11:37 a.m. It was worth the money. It was warmer than outside!

Then we went to the Bath Abbey. There are tablets all along the walls of the abbey. They were placed there as monuments to various people of Bath whose family members had had the money and the desire to memorialize them. I took pictures of some of the monuments because I found the inscriptions funny and/or interesting. Here are some examples.

Fletcher Partis, Esq., who died August 31, 1820

…He evinced his gratitude for the blessings a kind Providence had bestowed on him, by repeated acts of Liberality, to several Public charities during his life, and also by a desire to alleviate the sufferings of his Fellow creatures in providing an Asylum for thirty decayed Gentlewomen being Widows or Daughters of Clergymen, Merchants, or Professional Men, whom adverse fortune had deprived of brighter prospects, where he hoped they would find rest and comfort in the evening of their days, and which his widow is anxiously desirous to see Established….

Alexander Thomson, Knt., a lawyer who died April 15th, 1817

His Understanding was sound and strong, his knowledge in every branch of the law, accurate, extensive, and profound; his attention to criminals unremitting, his humanity judicious. He was patient in hearing, laborious in investigating, cautious in deciding, and his judgement (on which every man had more reliance than himself) seldom erred. Simple and unostentatious in the application of his talents, and courting neither favour nor popularity, he deservedly obtained the confidence of the country. To these public virtues were added, in the habits of his private life, a general acquaintance with literature and the arts, unaffected piety, unassuming manners, and steadfastness in friendship, with the kindest heart.

Some of the other things we did in Bath included…

  • A cruise of the Avon River. I saw a fox. Fun, but I was freezing the whole time!
  • The Museum of Work. Loved it!
  • The costume museum. Yawn.
  • Bath After Dark tour. Hysterical.
  • Shopping for rain gear. We realized after a long, cold day that we needed some protection from the rain. We each bought a jacket which lasted us not just for the trip, but for many years after. I still own mine and even use it occasionally. I also bought a pretty little umbrella. It was green with a hint of iridescent purple, and it was small enough to fit in my jacket pocket. It lasted through the trip and then stayed with me for many years, until one day I forgot it at the office. It was weeks before I was in the office again and thought to look for it. It was not there and no one could remember seeing it. I hope it was picked up (because it was presumed abandoned) rather than stolen.
  • Sally Lunn’s
  • Touring the sites, such as the Circus, the Crescent, and Pulteney Bridge.

Cat of the Royal Crescent

Avon River

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Pttt!

One day I served pizza to the children for lunch. Livia refused to eat it. I wanted to convince her to give it a try, so I put her stuffed rat toy next to her plate and pretended that he was eating the pizza. In my best rat voice, I said, “Yum! This pizza is so good!” Livia look at me and exclaimed, “My rat doesn’t like pizza!” Then she mimicked spitting the food out, saying, “Pt! Pt! Pttt!”

I guess she told me!

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Forgotten Pictures

I was so serious about cleaning up my digital files that I even took the pictures off my phone. I had a ton of pictures in there, most of them no longer relevant. That always seems to happen to pictures on my phone. But there were a few pictures that I still found interesting.

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It’s scary how thick this poison ivy vine was. I’ve heard that in some places poison ivy grows like a tree. Seeing this vine, I can believe it, and I get itchy just thinking about it.

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The decor at my hair salon is a little over the top, don’t you think?

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Ouch! Could the graphic on this baby-changing table be much more graphic?

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Best Friends

A few days ago Livia was playing with her Leaptop (a talking toy that mimics a computer). It asked, “Who is your best friend?” Livia replied, “Mommy, Daddy, and Marshall.”

Aw!

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Favorite Things: Jingle Shells

The problem with owning many things is that it’s easy to forget that some of them exist. Whether they get accidentally buried under other things, or deliberately stowed away, or just plain overlooked, it’s all the same. They are wasted. It is therefore a good thing to be reminded of our forgotten belongings from time to time. And that’s something that children are good for, because they get into everything.

Livia was rummaging through my stuff one day when she found my bucket of jingle shells. For those who don’t know, jingle shells are translucent, opalescent shells from the sea. They come in a variety of shades ranging from white to yellow to orange. They may be flat or curved. Some come with natural holes, ready to be hung on a cord as jewelry. And some come with etchings on them, as if some sea creature had decided to write a note using its own undecipherable code. Jingle shells also make beautiful clinking sounds when they impact one another, which is probably how they got their name.

IMG_2095 (copy)

IMG_2087 (copy) I picked up every single one of the shells in this bucket myself. I used to hunt for them as I walked up and down the beach at sunset. I spent many happy hours that way during my last year in Milford. And some unhappy hours, too. That was a tough time for me in a some ways, but I enjoyed my beach walks immensely and they helped to keep me on an even keel.

I love my jingle shells for their beauty, for the jingling sound that they make, and for the memories that they bring to mind. That is why they are some of my Favorite Things.

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New Year, New Computer

Part of the reason I did so little posting in December is that I was having computer trouble. My poor, old computer had almost run out of memory. My hard drive was full, and I kept getting warnings from the operating system that I needed to close programs or risk losing information. Not good.

So I copied all of my personal files over to the media server (at least I hope I got them all!). Then I handed my laptop to my husband and let him work his magic on it. He wiped the hard drive and installed a completely new operating system. And when I say new, I mean new.

So long, Windows! I’m a Linux girl now.

So it’s not technically a new computer, but it might as well be, because it’s faster and everything works differently. But I haven’t had any trouble adapting to Linux. I’ve figured out how to use the web browser, how to get the photos off my camera card, and how to crop and resize the photos. And today I found the word processor, so I’m all set. 🙂

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Remembering High-School English Class

Trying to write a synopsis of a book always reminds me of Mr. H, my least favorite high-school English teacher. Mr. H was energetic. He tried to engage the class. For example, when we were reading Beowulf, he used one of those rubber-monster finger puppets to represent Grendel. When we reached the part of the story where Beowulf ripped off Grendel’s arm, you better believe Mr. H tore off one of those little rubber monster arms and pinned it above the classroom door.

And yet I disliked Mr. H and dreaded every minute I had to spend in his class. One of his favorite in-class assignments was to make us write brief plot summaries of books we had read. He would spring the assignment on us without warning and give us little time to complete the task. I forget now what the maximum length was, whether it was one sentence or two. Either way, it was difficult and it made me miserable every time. He gave us no pointers (that I can recall) on how to distill a whole novel’s worth of character and plot into just a few lines. Though in fairness to him I have to admit that I was often absent. Maybe I missed a key class? Still, I can’t recall him ever offering me any individualized help either.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if I was the only kid who felt that way. Did the rest of the kids love Mr. H’s class? Did his zaniness inspire them? And did he actually manage to teach them how to order their thoughts and write concisely?

I have no way to know. But it’s sad that I still think of Mr. H when I’m trying to write a synopsis. And it’s even sadder that I still feel so inept at a task that I ought to have learned decades ago.

So perhaps it is time to take action. I have a whole new year before me. Couldn’t I find a little time to learn how to write a good plot synopsis?

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Stories from 2013: Livia

Dear Livia,

You learned to love singing this year. You can sing most of the alphabet song, which you learned from Marshall, but your favorite song is probably “Old McDonald.” You also like to sing bits of songs that you learned from your vovó. They have lyrics like “I love you just the way you are” and “Let’s talk about the things you do.”

You also started making up your own songs. One day you sang, “I like to dance in the bathroom all day long.” Then you danced to different areas of the room, singing, “And over here. And over here.” But the funniest song you sang was the one that went like this: “I’m a girl. I don’t have a peanut!”

You are fascinated with the idea of being a girl, and you insist on being called a girl. If I call you a pumpkin pie, for example, you’ll say, “I’m not a pumpkin pie. I’m a girl!” You also like being a princess, but not just any old princess. You are a Princess Bee when you’re wearing your bee jammies, a Princess Butterfly when you’re wearing your sparkly wings, and a Princess Mermaid when you’re in the bath.

Speaking of bee jammies, you were so jealous of Marshall’s that you used to cry every time he wore them. I finally broke down and bought some for you. They’re not quite the same as his, but you don’t seem to mind. You just needed those black-and-yellow stripes on the bottoms so that you could sting everyone. Unlike Marshall, who stings with his butt, you sting with your knee.

You’re still adventurous. During the summer you rode your little pink car down the driveway like a maniac. We had to keep a constant eye on you. You also loved riding down the roller coaster toy. You learned to climb the rock wall and rope ladder on your playground set, and also how to climb up to the observation post. That’s all pretty amazing for a kid under three!

You used to refuse to eat pasta, but then one day I offered you “sketti worms.” Those you loved!

A memory from 10/19: Today Livia was a duck sitting on an egg (soccer ball) in a nest (pile of leaves). We fed her the prettiest leaves in all the forest (maple leaves).

You love playing with art supplies, but you can’t be trusted with them. Somehow marker and crayon marks always end up where they’re not supposed to, like the tabletop or the wall. And you always draw on your hands with markers (Livia the Tattooed Girl!). You adore stickers, and though I’ve explained to you that they should only go on paper, you stick them everywhere, sometimes even on our backs. I often fail to notice them when I’m doing laundry and then I have to scrape off the remains after the clothes comes out of the wash.

You sure keep us on our toes. You are always getting into things, and you are, I sometimes think, too smart for us. What will you do with so much daring, intelligence, and joie de vivre in the upcoming year? I’m excited (and a little nervous) to see!

Love,

Mom

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Stories from 2013: Marshall

Dear Marshall,

You weren’t much of a talker until you started school. Now you’re in your second year of pre-K, and boy, do you talk! You tell us stories and make jokes. And ask questions—lots and lots of questions!

Many of your questions are difficult to answer. For example, we went on a tractor ride at the local farm. We pointed out the corn plants as we passed them. You asked, “How does a corn plant work?” Oy! Where do you even start with the answer? Pollination? Seeds? Photosynthesis? And while we can (amazingly!) often explain things in general terms that seem to satisfy your curiosity, there’s a lot we don’t understand ourselves. I often wish I could give you better answers.

You have beautiful manners now. For the longest time, no matter how many times we explained that asking nicely meant remaining calm and using the word “please,” you would just repeat the phrase “ask nicely.” But finally you have learned how to say please! You say “sorry” with great sincerity. And you don’t just say “thank you.” You elaborate, saying things like “Thank you for washing that, Mommy” or “Thank you for the milk.” And because we praise you often, you praise us right back, saying things like “Good job making the sandwich, Mommy!”

You are fascinated by the idea of time. You use phrases like “all the time,” “all day long,” “for ever and ever,” and “a hundred years.”

When you don’t want to do something (e.g., trying a new food), you say things like “maybe tomorrow” or “maybe when I grow up.”

The only words I’ve noticed that you still have special pronunciations for are “calendern” (calendar) and “ginding” (beginning). Until recently, you were using these:

tar = guitar
grasspoppers = grasshoppers
samwich = sandwich
teefis = teeth
thomas = hummus

You’ve come a long way this year. You know most of the alphabet and can sing the whole alphabet song. You can spell and write your first name, and you recognize certain short words (e.g., “hot”) when you read them. You constantly surprise us with your vocabulary, using words like “crescent” and “octagon.” Wow!

We are so proud of you and can’t wait to see how you grow in 2014!

Love,

Mom

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Charley the Elf

Dear Kids,

One day in early December Marshall asked, “Have you heard of the Elf on the Shelf? It’s a book!”

I had heard of the Elf on the Shelf. I had been introduced to the idea by Auntie Jeanne, and frankly I wasn’t sure that I wanted one. But when Marshall mentioned it, I asked if he wanted one. He said yes, so I told him I’d call up Santa and make arrangements.

Santa sure acted fast. The next morning we were greeted by this sight:

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The elf was sitting atop a cabinet in the kitchen. His bright red clothes and merry smile stood out against the light colors of the cabinet and walls. You noticed him immediately.

As the book told us, the first thing to do was to give the elf a name. I started to rattle off a list of boy names for you to choose from. The first name I thought of was Charley. As soon as I said it, Livia cooed the name with such obvious adoration that I never got to the rest of the list. Marshall agreed, and so Charley the elf became.

Marshall was quiet that first morning, seemingly conscious that Big Brother was in the house. He kept whispering. After a while he got used to Charley and spoke at a normal volume, but still he struggled with the idea of the elf. He told his father, “He doesn’t look real. But he’s real.”

As the days passed, Marshall grew fonder and fonder of the elf. And you both came to enjoy the game of finding him each morning. Because that’s part of how the elf works. Every night he goes to the North Pole to make his report to Santa, then he flies back here and picks a new place to sit for the day.

Charley appeared in many locations over the course of the month, including Marshall’s backpack, the Christmas tree, and the light in the dining room. One morning he was holding a marker and a piece of paper with your names on it! He kept to the high places mostly, probably so that there was no chance of you touching him, because one of the rules it that you can’t touch the elf (it might make his magic go!).

We did have one difficult moment. Charley had chosen to perch on a cabinet knob. I opened the cabinet next to it and suddenly he was hanging upside down! Well, you father is a quick thinker, thank goodness. He took us all into the other room so that we could send wishes to Santa for help. When we got back to the kitchen, Charley had sorted himself out again. Whew!

I admit that your father and I sometimes used Charley to help control your behavior. If you were being naughty, we’d threaten to tell Charley. I’d feel bad about it except that it worked so well. And I made up for it by praising your good behavior at the end of every day. Believe me when I say that Santa always got a balanced report!

Charley chose to take his leave on Christmas Eve while we were at your vovôs’ house. He left you each a book as a gift. Marshall got The Polar Express and Livia got How the Grinch Stole Christmas. My guess is that Charley wanted you to keep Christmas in your hearts throughout the year. That was nice of him.

You miss Charley. You’ve asked me about him every morning since Christmas. I feel so bad for you that I’m thinking of inviting him to Livia’s birthday party. There’s no harm in asking, anyway. It’s up to Santa to say yes or no. So I think we’ll send Charley an invitation and see what happens. I hope that he can come to the party!

Either way, you can rest assured that Charley will be back for Christmas. I am surprised to find that I’m looking forward to it. I guess Charley managed to work his way into my heart, too.

Love,

Mom

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