Bringing the Fourth to Pavlina's School

 Certain rhythms of life get taken for granted when I think of holidays.  In the fall the rain brings out the smell of leaves dying which signals a craving for apples, cider and pumpkin (muffins, bread, seeds and pie).  It will be cold and hopefully snowy at Christmas so I crave warm drinks and rich foods and even though I don't eat turkey, gravy and stuffing, I want to smell it cooking.  New Years is always depressingly cold and bleak.  This kicks in a daily need for chocolate (and cheese) that lasts past (far past) Valentines Day.  By Easter the earth is warming up enough that there are new smells in the air and nothing sounds better to eat than strawberries and asparagus (and still chocolate).  Summer brings hot sticky weather for the Fourth.  Sweet corn, watermelon, hot dogs cooked over charcoal all sound good, even better if eaten outdoors.  Living in a new country has taught us just how regional and specific our tastes are, and how tied to the weather and schedules.  For instance Pav's school in Oxford was in session for three weeks past the Fourth of July, and we were lucky if the day was warm enough we didn't need to wear jackets and long pants.  About as unimaginably different from our Iowa summers as spending Christmas in Australia.  While another American mom and I brainstormed ideas for how to celebrate with the kids at Pav's school I realized it was so hard to come up with ideas because we were never in school on the Fourth of July.  A day that is so much about backyard barbecues, parades and firework displays becomes hard to translate to a class room, but here was our attempt:

One of Pav's all time favorite meals: sweet corn and hot dogs

Her best friend Anna enjoys S'mores painstakingly made with imported graham crackers, Hershey's bars and marshmallow by Scott over disposable grills.

The next best thing to a real fireworks display: glow sticks and a video with the shutters closed.

All tuckered from all the festivities, Pav fell asleep on the bike on the way home.

Super Busy...

...getting ready for our trip back to the US and don't have time to catch up

on all that has been going on so I'll just share a few photos of what we have been up to...

Carless family

Check out Pav's new ride:

That's right, her very own recumbent trailer bike behind Dad's bike, and a kid seat behind Mom's. This girl gets around Oxford in style!

Pavlina's Christmas present

One of Pav's best gifts (I think, because I picked it out) this year was a kiddie digital camera. She is always wanting to use our camera and I got tired of saying NO while remembering how much fun it was to have my own camera when I was kid. I still have albums full of the pictures I took on trips to The Grand Canyon, Great Britain and Grandma's house. Then there is the documentation of the moods and movements of our pet cats whose leery, weary expressions tell of the countless hours I spent following them around the house and yard looking for entertainment from my under-enthused furry playmates. Good memories are stored in those photos, even though the quality was poor and the artistry was lacking. Pav's camera isn't much better quality than mine was, but its advantage is in how quickly she can see the result. Hopefully she will learn how to take a good photograph early. We might be raising the next Annie Leibovitz:

Self Portrait 1

Our hosts for Christmas diner: Lakshmi, Chris, Nareen, and George, where Pav was official documenter.

The majority of her pictures document the objects in our house, like this shot of our bookcase. If she keeps it up I will have a full inventory for insurance.

Sometimes I think she is really onto something:

Entrance to Blenheim Palace

Other times not:

Carpet, 1 of 4

Bikes from Oxford to Abingdon

Ahh, the Thames. In the midwest it would hardly be called a river. At its widest spot near Oxford it is half the Iowa river at its narrowest. It is a stream compared to the Mississippi. But here it is so tied to the culture that you can't get a feel for Oxford without spending time near it. Famous for punting upon during summer, rowing all year long, host to an independent houseboat culture, inspiration for Lewis Carroll's Alice. Fondly called the Isis. Slow and picturesque and historic and accessible.

We rode today from The center of Oxford along the Thames towpath to the Isis Tavern for beans on toast, cider, scones and tea. Just past the Isis boat house and the stretch with all the rowers practicing, and today racing. Watch out for the coaches riding bikes down the path blindly calling to their boats. If you don't get out of the way one of you will end up in the river as the path is directly on the water. There is a boat hanging from the ceiling with blue christmas tree lights. The ceiling and walls are patchy and water damaged. There is a wood burning stove in one corner an

d a fireplace in the other. The bar is in the middle and wooden tables and couches line the walls. The rug is red and patterned. It is cold inside, unless you are by the fire, which we were lucky enough to be.

The scones are huge and delicious. Buttery and full of currents and served with the fruitiest jam and thick cream.

The toast is an inch thick and baked in house. The beans are bland compared to american baked beans, but are topped with grated cheddar cheese--real cheddar cheese, which is not orange like the american version. The woman sitting next to us was reading the last Harry Potter book. I whispered this to Pav and we started talking. She'd seen the movie last night and got Scott and I all excited to see it. She is from South Carolina and quickly became our friend. It helped that Pav introduced herself as Delilah. By the time we were ready to leave she had climbed into her lap.

It is unfortunate that the Isis Tavern was so comfortable. The day seemed very cold and grey once we set out south once again. The path soon left the river for a meadow along train tracks complete with cows.

Then onto roads in countryside that made you wonder how we could be so close to bustely Oxford. Through a couple neighborhoods the English would call villages (one even had a post office in a house--very metropolitan) and then back onto muddy, leaf covered bike path through woods which led us straight to a wonderful playground on the edge of Abingdon. We would have liked to explore this historic market town--it looked picturesque and non-touristy--but it was already starting to get dark. We turned back and were soon riding in the dark. Wet leaves and mud made this tricky, as did the frequent cow guards on the meadow section and the tricky gates they are fond using to keep motorized vehicles off the bike paths. I dumped my bike twice, with Pav strapped in her seat on the back. Once in the mud (managed to keep her out of it, but not my purse), and once sliding dramatically downhill on wet leaves into a bush. Eeek! Poor kid. She was a trooper, but the second crash wore her out and she was soon a sleeping, floppy dead weight making it even harder to balance. Once she woke up she was thoroughly chilled and shivery. I worried that her first long bike ride here in England would turn her off the experience for good, but a warm bath and hot chocolate soon made her forget her discomfort. Also, a bunch of young folk on their way to the Isis left a trail of glow sticks along the towpath (a trail to follow home, Hansel and Gretel style?). Pav was tickled. We collected a couple for her to take home as souvenirs (hopefully no one lost their way because of this). Next time: north on the tow path to Blenheim Palace. Maybe on a warmer, drier day--if there ever is one!

Birthday fun in Oxford--Balliol bonfire night

Pav the very moment she turned four--time change and daylight savings taken into account!

As we set out for Balliol College's sports fields last night, Scott and I serious

ly wondered if we were headed in the right direction. It seemed that everyone else in Oxford was heading the other way. The sidewalks were so crowded we had to push Pav's stroller in the street and cars were lined up filling the oncoming lane, with no one driving our way. We had slammed our dinner to have time to rush through cake, so my tummy bloated to six months pregnant and I just wanted to lie down. When we got to the Balliol field no one was there except for some security guards and a burger van. The guards told us that we were an hour early (or that is what we gathered--strong cockney accent from one and Scottish from the other). Scott knew a place to sit so we waited. Pav slept in the stroller, I lolled and Scott surfed the internet. The iphone told us the town of Oxford was also having their bonfire and fireworks that night, as well as a fair with rides, which we had watched them setting up over the last couple days. All of this was taking place just a block past our apartment. Now we were convinced we had made the wrong choice of what to do. We considered going home. We decided to stick it out a bit longer. The band started to play. They weren't bad. Then they were really bad. The crowd was thin. Then more showed up. It was cold, but some goofy people were dancing and they were fun to watch. Then a bunch of people (the women's rowing team?) showed up with torches and carried an ancient wooden boat to the bonfire pile. The fireworks started. They were good, and we were close enough to watch them being lit. For two hundred people the show was very good. The bonfire started crackling. When the fireworks ended the crowd moved over to the fire.

We loosened our coats. Mulled wine was served. It was good. The heat was great. Pav got nervous:

The Master of Balliol asked us if we were enjoying ourselves. Pav explained that she was glad they had planned fireworks for her birthday. We didn't bother trying to explain about Guy Fawkes. We reluctantly left the warmth and walked the cold walk home. A good day.

We're Here!

I started this blog as a way to keep in touch while we travelled so Scott could get all the education his heart desires. We've finally made the move everyone has been asking us about for over a year now. That's right, we are all together in Oxford, finally! Above is a picture of Pav and I and all the stuff I could convince the airline to let us take with us. It felt like we were leaving almost everything behind as I packed, but carting it around the airport felt quite the opposite!

For the last three months Pav and I have been half a country, to half a world away from Scott. I think this picture pretty much sums up how much she has missed him.

Preparations are underway for a big day tomorrow so I don't have much time to post and I've been terrible about taking pictures since our first day in Oxford, so this one will have to do. It is a random street in the city center. Oxford proves very photogenic, so expect more. And expect me to know more about what I am photographing. This day was all about getting to know one another again, after much too long of a separation so I wasn't paying much attention to the history or the architecture (or as much attention on my whereabouts as I wish I had!). After the birthdays tomorrow I plan on getting to know the town and the sights much better.

Back in IA/DC

Forgive the long pause in blogging for this time I actually have an excuse. Not only was I busy moving, but I didn't have internet either. Thanks to the neighbors unusually strong wireless signal tonight I find myself blessed with my biggest vice.

How hard it has been to get used to not starting my day with the usual check of the weather, glance at email and check in with friends blogs. Isolating to not have even the hint of social interaction in keeping up with Facebook statuses. And the blog post ideas have been piling up and being forgotten (for in the move I have misplaced the Everything Pad of paper where I list groceries, errands and everything else so the urge to jot something down before my scattered mother's-brain forgets it is distracted by the missing routine of heading for that drawer where the pad and pens hang out (how can it be a month and I haven't gotten around to replacing it?)).

Now our family is dealing with separation. Scott is back in DC and Pav and I are in Iowa City. In two weeks he heads to the UK and we stay here until the time is right to join him. The logistics of an apartment in Oxford have been dealt with, but my health has to be in order before I can face the leap of faith that entering a new health system while in a colitis flare-up requires. Plus it is just hard for me to imagine setting up a new life from scratch with no method for advanced planning (thank you, Qwest, for taking over a month to hook up the internet).

I keep putting on my sense-of-adventure hat but the darn thing keeps falling off!