Now it's 8pm on Christmas Eve and Jonathan is getting really excited. He and Stephen are checking the internet for Santa sightings.
We went shopping in London yesterday and hit all my favourite shops, Patridges, John Lewis, Selfridges, and bought some of my favourite treats. It's beautiful in London. Christmas lights everywhere.
Only three days to Christmas! And on Christmas Eve I get to meet Stuart, Christopher, and Eleanor. I'm really excited about that.
Back in Manhattan that evening, Mike and I dined on steak fried swimming in butter. Sounded good in theory, looked somewhat terrifying in progress, but the proof is in the eating and the steak was D-licious! Chef Michael gets a full four stars. Then it was on to see Mates of State at Irving Plaza. The show was great and I came away with some birthday swag.
Sunday we went to conference at 12, then home to make pies and castle-shaped birthday cakes. We had our first dinner on Jenn Cook's terrace downstairs, with the singing of Happy Birthday and, I swear, fireworks over the river to follow. All for me, of course! With phone calls from family and friends galore the day was complete. I'm a happy girlie!
Is it really any wonder?!
I am so envious, I had heart palpitations when she told me. I haven't been to any new beautiful and exotic places this year. Wisconsin SO does not count. Aileen better make good on her promise to take me to Puerto Rico next spring. I'm almost tempted to go whole hog and blow the thousand bucks it would cost to go to Bermuda for my birthday. But I'm not that crazy just yet.
I wasn't prepared for a little baby to come into my life. It meant complete upheaval at home, and truly, the flat - actually my whole life - has never been the same since. He looked like me. People used to stop the three of us in the street and tell my sister she had such a gorgeous little nephew. It’s the dark hair. We match. We spent four years together before I moved to New York. We had wonderful adventures, especially Barceloooona.
mother's family lived before the last century. After catching up with everyone at church on Sunday morning, we headed to the Suffolk coast (that's the bump bit of England to the east). We were heading for Aldeburgh, a seaside town my Mum has been wanting to visit for sometime. Turns out it's rather a posh little place with lots of Londoners inhabiting the beautiful sea front houses over the long weekend. Jonathan had a wonderful time, chucking hundreds of pebbles into the sea.The drive home was exciting. We joined the little car parade. English roads are chock full of dinky little cars (most of them, ironically, imported from large European countries like France, Spain and Italy). We were driving a modest sized French-made Peugot, which could just about handle the 70 mph speed limit, when we were suddenly passed by three tiny little cars you almost needed a magnifying glass to see. They were like Jonathan's toy cars, yet some of them were doing at least 85. A physical impossibility I would have thought. We all chased each other for miles, passing and repassing, until the parade broke up when we turned off onto the A6.
Tuesday, Lucy was back at work so Mum and Jonathan and I had one last day out in the car. We went to the Welney Wetlands Center in the morning to see ducks and other wild fowl. It's a nature reserve in the middle on the fenlands of Cambridgeshire. The fens are marshlands that have been drained for agriculture. The roads are all built up several feet above the level of the land and the water is drained into a system of canals. The Welney reserve is the winter grounds for thousands of ducks and swans. In the summer, it's a little quieter, but we did see a little family of ducks up close, as well as swans and several South African swallows who are here for the winter (in S.A. that is). The arrival of the swallows is a sign the summer has come. The little fellows were darting about all over the place.
Then we headed west, via the Houghton Water Mill (the last working water mill in the East of England), to see the Eleanor Cross in the village of Geddington. If you've seen Braveheart (my condolences if you have), the old king of England in the film is Edward I, and Eleanor was his wife. She was on a pilgrimage to Lincoln Catherdral 200 miles north of London when she popped her clogs. Her body was brought back to London in a grand procession and everywhere they stopped for the night, Edward had an "Eleanor Cross" built to mark the spot. There were fourteen, but only three have survived the last 800 years.
Our last stop was Kirby Hall, which Lauren will recognise as Mansfield Park. The house is actually a ruin, except for the wing of the house with the rounded bay windows. Jonathan really got into the audio tour, insisting on listening to entire commentary for each room. I don't have the patience and kept wandering on ahead, much to Jonathan's consternation (he likes things done in proper order). He's cheerful in this photo, but the moment before he was giving me the evil eye for walking into the library before he was done with the previous room.
There are lots more pictures here, but they're in reverse order. The last two days I've been playing games with Jonathan and doing battle with him for control of the television and computer. Tomorrow we're going to London to see the Queen. And shop!
The lads were in adorable matching outfits. James Mercer is the singer, but the short one is definitely the boss. He was a jolly little chap. There was a lot more bass and drums than on the records which gave the songs a bigger, exciting, arena-filling sound. I think they played them all. Oh and they completely fluffed Pink Bullets. We were all swaying in rapture, when Jimbo tripped over the words and it all came to a grinding halt. A few giggles from the boys and they picked it up, only to fluff it AGAIN. And we just loved them all the more! I was almost too happy to breath.
And here are a couple pics of me for good measure...
It took him a couple weeks to get it out. He's squeamish like me and he let it hang in there till it fell out rather than him pulling it. So tonight the tooth is going in a special tooth pillow (a bit of foresight on the part of Father Christmas this past year), hopefully to be exchanged for some bright shiny coinage he can spend on their daytrip to Brighton tomorrow. I hear the going rate for a tooth these days is about two quid. We asked what he wanted to spend it on and he replied, with accompanying sound effects, "the slide that goes round and round and round and round". He's referring to the helter skelter on Brighton Pier. I used to love going on that when I was a kid, despite the mild terror of being over the water as you wooshed around the far side of it. It's a REALLY long way down, but even that couldn't stop us hurtling back up the steps to have another go.
I told Jonathan he should have some fun with his gap, whistling and squirting water through it. Lucy says there's definitely a bit of a lisp going on there and Jonathan himself declared, "it's tricky to speak properly." He can't wait to show all his friends, and I suspect the people on the train tomorrow are going to hear all about it.
On a side note, Jonathan told my brother last week that he loves him very much, so much so, in fact, that he, and the rest of the family, are his third favourite thing. The running order: "trains, Chilli's, then family, and tunnels." I'd say we placed fairly well over all.
Is he just cute as a button!
Jonathan rang me this afternoon to ask a favour, which I duly granted. How could I possibly say no to my baby. Then I was looking at some pictures of my friends, and it got me thinking about what Jonathan will be like when he's all grown up. He'll have girlfriends and jobs and - hopefully - fashion sense. He's got his grandfather's genes so fashion sense is probably a given. I wonder where he'll live. Although Jonathan is concerned about it, I don't think he'll end up in prison, but he could be just about anywhere else. I hope he'll have wonderful friends and lots more crazy Bovee children. Can you imagine... one day I'll a great-auntie!
We first stopped at the Palmyra temple. It's a fairly standard temple design, except for one very special feature. The window behind me looks out onto the Sacred Grove. I think we were all immediately struck by the thought that we were walking on turf once trodden not only by Joseph Smith, but also the prophet Moroni nearly two thousand years ago. I think it's no coincidence that this place was chosen for such an important work. Unlike so many areas once rural that have now been swallowed up by development and sprawling cities, little Palmyra remains nearly as sleepy as it was when the Smith family arrived two hundred years ago. Any more town and the hustle and bustle would disturb the tranquility of the place. Today, we can return and still feel the strong presence of the Spirit. Even with all the pageant tourists, it was peaceful and still. And look there's Moroni up top, still keeping watch over it all.
After overnighting in Rochester, we went on to Niagara Falls on Sunday morning. I had a feeling there would be trouble at the border. I shalln't go into the details here, but I hope that this was the first AND last time I'm interrogated by US border patrol.
So instead of viewing the falls from the Canadian side, we got to see the falls up close on the US side. We walked onto Goat Island (such a romantic name, no wonder this was a honeymoon mecca!) which is between the American Falls, pictured above, and the grander Horseshoe Falls, below:
There are more pictures on flickr. We tried to find the spot where Superman rescues the dopey boy in the film. It's a shame we didn't have time to do the boat ride or the Cave of the Winds, but we had an enjoyable time, despite Keila's hair reaching near record-breaking temperatures. This was all followed by a long drive home. I was navigating, and despite taking us the wrong at least twice, everyone made a point of saying what a great job I was doing. I must say that I have some really terrific friends!!
The afternoon temperature in Luton:
What's going on?! Luton is on the same line of latitude as like way up in Hudson Bay. They're having crazy weather in England. I heard on BBC radio that temperatures in the London Underground had reached 47 degrees in some trains, that's 116 in Fahrenheit. Shame I'm missing out on that!
Thanks to Drew and Joanne for a great barbeque on Saturday. The highlight was definitely Drew's baking. We had strawberry shortcake, fresh peach pie and a cake in the shape of a sandcastle. Delicious!
On July 6 we won the bid to host the 2012 Olympics. It was a euphoric day. I put up a giant poster over my desk on which I'd drawn the London logo. When I broke the news to Jonathan he shouted for joy at the thought that one day he would be 12, and he was pretty chuffed about the olympics (or 'lympics as they're known in our house) taking place right on his doorstep as well. He immediately wanted to go out and start training to run in the 100-metre dash. Lucy informed him he would be going to bed instead. Nice try, Jonathan!
The next day the bombs came and there really wasn't much to smile about for a long time. The poster came down and I just felt sick for days. But you know what, no one gets to spoil our city and no one gets to spoil our lives. Lucy and Jonathan went into central London just two weeks after July 7. She didn't want him to be afraid. London is so much part of our lives and he needed to know that it was safe. The longer they waited, the more he would worry. They rode the Thameslink from Luton station(just as the bombers had done), got off at Kings Cross and onto the underground. They spent a few tense minutes sitting on the train which for some reason was being held in the station. Worried looks were exchanged between the passengers, but finally the doors closed and the train pulled out of the station. Jonathan declared, "It's alright. There aren't any bombs anymore." Everyone relaxed visibly and smiled at a little boy's innocence.
I have a good life here in New York, but London will always be my home. Some days I'm really homesick. I just want to be in England and talk to people who now what "lubbly jubbly" means and know that they make bogs in Stoke-on-Trent. BBC radio via the internet is my lifeline. But I think how lucky am I to get to experience both these wonderful places. There's more for me to do here in New York. I have wonderful friends in this city that I don't want to be without. And thankfully, I worked out a deal with EMI when I took my new job so that I get to go home for more than a week at the end of August. I'll be with my family, breath English air, ride the underground and watch Jonathan train for the 'lympics.
Our enjoyment of the music was slightly tempered by the rapid approach of dark, ominous clouds from all directions. Huge gusts of wind blew leaves and little branches down from the trees and everyone sat there just waiting for the clouds to burst and drench us all in seconds. Thankfully, the rain didn't start until the moment we headed down the steps into the subway on our way home. It was close!
This is Dad in his younger days. It's sort of how I remember him as a child, with a bit less hair perhaps. The advent of the eighties brought his hair above his ears, but thankfully, the moustache remained pretty much intact! It did disappear for a few years when I was a teen, but it's back for good now!
