Well, I had my first full day off in a couple of weeks yesterday. It was a great day with the weather turning so nice and Andrea (and her research assistant Abby!) in London.
We managed to arrange a visit with Brad and Alison and their two young boys Turner and Gibson. Turner is coming three and Gibson is just three months old. They are a barrel of laughs. Turner's favourite word these days is "no." Turner, would you like some juice? No. See Turner drinking happily. Turner would you like to see the ducks? No. See Turner chasing ducks. Turner, are you a good boy? No! See Turner behaving quite well all things considered. Brad and Alison have a lovely flat that has a view of the park, and is right next to the community swimming pool. Brad made the great suggestion that we "walk the Heath" and so we headed into Hamstead Heath to check out an outdoor cafe that serves a wicked English breakfast. What a great idea!!! It was like breakfast in the garden. It felt a little like home for me because of all the green I have been missing lately! Anyway, after that fine feast we fiddled around in the park with the kids until Brad's sister Martha had to head for the airport.
On the way back Turner decided to test his "separation threshold." He wandered off the path into an open field while his dad gently called "Turner, don't go too far." He was pretty proud of himself striding out alone into a brave new world and stood smiling smuggly as his dad edged further and further down the path. "Turner, we're leaving, come on now." He just chuckled and said "No!" And then, as fate would have it, the separation barrier was crushed in a heartbeat, and his whole little adventure came crashing down around him. A little Jack Russel came up, gave him a sniff, and went "BARK!" Little Turner did the international "this has all gone horribly wrong!" child sign language flop and plopped down wailing at high volume. I am sure he thought he was going to be ravaged by wild dogs!!! His dad marched back up the hill as the little Jack Russel ran circles around the strange little man making an aweful noise. Oh, well, as with all these little lessons, Turner recovered quickly and before we knew it he was back to reciting his favourite word: No! Albiet from the safe confines of his pram.
Having had a bit of an overdose of "family time" (compared to what we are used to at any rate) we headed back to the "other London" for a cafe in Soho. It was great to just sit and read the damned paper for once! Following our "gay cafe," we headed to The Blakemore Hotel where Andrea and Abby are staying in order to be "collected" by Andrea's acquaintance Roman, who is in turn a friend of her friend, Rupert Belfridge. Rupert is a fellow who Andrea met in a pub while in Lancaster researching some time ago. I think Marisha was in on the "meeting Rupert experience." I think it had something to do with Rupert babbling on about avant guard pottery and disco dancing while the girls smiled and nodded. Anyway, we were invited to have a barbeque dinner in Chelsea, at Rupert's mother's place, and we jumped at the chance to sit in a quaint English garden and eat. Hilarity ensued as Rupert arrived fashionably late (to his own engagement) and introduced his own hand made crab cakes as the "finest known to humanity." Some good chatter lead to a fine meal (con langostinas a la plancha tambien!!!) and the suggestion that "we retire to the club." Meaning The Chelsea Arts Club for a game of snooker and glass of port. I made quite the travesty of the snooker, but was very "at home" with my glass of port! Roman demolished me, and then Rupert demolished Roman, reasserting is sharpish abilities with the cue! I did my best to provide top notch play by play commentary. Suffice to say that Rupert's slightly off kilter gait, and rustled appearance, along with obvious upper class upbringing and eccentricity give him "a bit of the Withnail."
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