Refuse me anything?

I dare you!

Success!!

Second thoughts....

Should I?

Sampling Lever's driving in the Lake District...

without being in the car. ;)

Images of the last couple months...

(I'll give ya more, but let me just tease you with a little taste first...)

Ya know....

Showered....dressed.
Ready to go.
Time to get the lil Lady.
Right. And the volvo.....is not working. *sigh*
OK, time to fire up the 'ole leg power.
After navigating the debris of the back driveway, I push off toward the school.

Me in my nice outfit complete with black pointy high heels pedaling away with the caravan in tow....
Round the roundabout...down the lane...over the Curly Bridge, avoiding the doodoo...slow passing along the mucky path...around the tree-branches littering the walkway...less than 10 minutes late.

Turn back around...fighting the blustery winds...navigating around the clumps of blinkered Mums....sugar low (oops, forgot lunch)...starting to sweat...goddamn that volvo....f'it, I'm walking.

Favorite Request of 2007 (so far)

[early morning hours]

Noel: "Mommy, I look cold."
"I need a hot cuddle."

Favoritye New Word: 2006

secretagogue

The School Report

And I quote, "Ruben tried to get my knickers!"

And I know he was a BAD BOY, because he was described as having a Big Skull bracelet with lots of Fire all over it.

Do the right thing.....

Alright boys and girls.
This is it.

A.) VOTE. VOTE. VOTE.

B.) Get your friends/neighbors/loved ones/co-workers/enemies voting as well.

C.) Get your priorities straight. Enter the voting booth and for once, instead of thinking about your bank accounts, think about minimizing the deaths of our fellow Americans. Don't allow any more soldiers to be sent away; don't allow the executive branch to have their way. Show the world that we ARE a true democracy-even if the popular vote did not successfully elect the president that we wanted, there are checks and balances....

And if you can, please....




P.S. If you vote based on family values, you better read this... http://select.nytimes.com/2006/11/01/opinion/01talkingpoints.html?pagewanted=all

Close calls

We needed some chocolate chips; we needed a pizza tray. Now. These were the reasons I had to fire up the ole' Volvo engine and venture out into the world, driving on the wrong side of the road. Well, to me anyways.

We made it safely to our destination and acquired the goods. *ahem* Acquired them legally, that is, what were you thinking?!?

There were a couple of disagreements over who should carry the size 5 child's coat, and an accusation (while hungry) from the little one that I, "hurt her eyebrows." erm....

After a bit of dilly-dallying with good intentions (buying presents for little bundles of joy who will be arriving soon), we made it back out to the parking lot to where the nice parking ticket man was standing next to my car. He was busy poking at buttons on his machine when I said hello. He apologized, then after a few moments told me: "The paper is stuck in my printer. You will get away before I can give you a ticket." This sounded very racy and illegal to me, so I asked for further clarification. He said that I was not going to get a ticket....which was especially nice because it would have put me back a hefty 30 pounds sterling (obviously I should have inserted another 40 pence into the meter.)

I felt pretty good about it, especially because this trip's close call was only a parking violation...not the moving violation that I earned (but did not receive) the last time I was on the road.

Now to be fair, the last time I was on the road was also the first time that I had driven in England. So, maybe I shouldn't feel too bad that I almost crashed at a roundabout on the way to the store, then drove so cautiously home that I was passed by a scooter. I'd say this times close call with a parking ticket was head and heels above that.... ;)

Strange Love

*crying*
*wailing*
*crying*
hmmm.....
*jog up the stairs*
*crying*
"What's wrong?"
"What's WRONG?"
*crying*
"C'mere, I'll pick you up..."
*gush*
*wetness*
*dripping*

Friday the 13th ended with my daughter releasing her full bladder on me. She wasn't awake and seemingly doesn't even remember it today.

Grumble, grumble....moan

HAZE....
TAPPING.
FURR.
TAPPING.
TAPPING.
WET.
eh?
"what's that?"
*sniff*...
RECONFIRM
*sniff, sniff*
"My ARM!"
"Here smell my arm."

You know that Friday the 13th has kicked off in resounding glory when it's encroaching 4 am, and your arm and sheet next to your head (READ: nose) had cat shit on it.

Notable observations

Before noon, I had received 47 SPAM on an account that I typically receive 2 per day.

There was a veritable poop mine on the Curly Bridge today. I like to tell myself that I managed to avoid it all.

The shopping mall had a advertising nugget that assured me that people are the same everywhere. It read, "20% off all Birthday cards!! Hurry, before Christmas!" Erm. That was precisely the same sort of logic that convinced Americans to go to war with Iraq in order to thwart Bin Laden and to make us safe from future 9/11s. Never mind that Bin Laden was either hanging in Pakistan or Afghanistan. But yeah. People have striking similarities despite the different places they call home.

And forgive me political rant. It's my parrr-ty and I'll cry if I want to... ;)

Dying for a present

Snow Day….er, except without the snow. Instead, this 2nd school-free day in a row was sponsored by the Plumber’s Association and the Bloke who Unloaded the Pipe-Clogging Turd. For me it just meant another day battling 4-year-old boredom while struggling to write a manuscript. Oh, right…and yet ANOTHER day that I couldn’t venture out for Lever’s present.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

So it came right down to the wire. I woke up today, Lever’s birthday, crossing my fingers that the plumbers had sorted things out, that the rain would let up, and that I wouldn’t get desperately lost on the way to procure Lever’s present. In typical form, once I found myself free—thanks to school re-opening, I managed to procrastinate leaving the house with a million meaningless tasks. I finally printed my directions, swallowed all my misgivings, jumped on my bike, and headed towards the forest…

Considering that I had never ventured anywhere significant by myself in the 4 weeks that I had been living here, except by foot....oh right, and then there’s the fact that my route involved a foray in the woods that I had seen only once before….oh, and the fact that the path was of the nature, “Turn left by the old oak tree, then take a right at the thin, pine-needle path, etc.”…oh and of course, the last half of the trip was a combination of bad google map directions and my own improvising….it was a MIRACLE that I found the shop in the next town over 4-5 miles away. I was mud-spattered and wet and more importantly, seriously regretting the white shirt and no bra combination. But hey, bike store, Baby, I made it (and maybe a wet t-shirt discount, too…eh? eh?) I made my purchase, frequently glancing at my watch and acutely aware that I had a mere 40 minutes to pick Noe up from school (and I DID get a discount, but I’m guessing the guy was just trying to butter me up for future sales.)

I sped towards home trying to remember every turn and bend in reverse while ignoring my muddy, aching thighs. It worked for a surprisingly large part of the journey, until a young, camouflage-clad man standing next to a red flag stopped me. Erm…right, gravel road in the middle of nowhere…pretty empty except for the large gathering of military men in a field. He told me that I couldn’t go on, that they were conducting detonations and were “live” at the moment. I put on my best smile and in my American accent pleaded that I couldn’t find my way home unless I could continue on the path. He looked at me sympathetically and walked back to his unit to inquire about the situation. Happily, the British army let me go and I steered around their live ammo.

I did make it to pick up my darling 4-yr-old, a mere 5 minutes late, with the Birthday gift in my backpack. I was tired and very satisfied, having braved the wily paths and the dangerous roads of Farnborough and Fleet, UK….

Cheers my dear Love, Lever. Happy Birthday!

Foisting culture on Farnborough

The Americans have landed!! The Americans have landed!!

;)

And furthermore, this is what we've done....

We barely managed to get in the country before a terrorist threat
virtually dropped the movement of all UK airports to a
standstill....of course customs did give us our own special
run-around. Then, apparently we were distracting enough to cause a
minor accident on the way to Farnborough that same morning. *whew*
Despite that, we're all in one piece.

After a quick morning trip to the pike-y fair and a full day's spent
at the zoo, I got liquored-up with new British friends while our
lovely kids jumped late into the night on a bouncy castle. It was fun
for all.....even for the poor Sweethearts that had to drive us home.
We bought 'em dinner...er...sort of. We actually just paid for our own
and made use of the 2 for 1 dinner deal. They're still in the dark
about that, though. Shhhhh.

We were invited for a very civilized curry with Noe's first school
teacher. Mmmm, quite lovely. A quick trip to the bog then...*whew*
that was stinky....hmmmm....why was that flush so
ineffective?...erm....again....again....again...ERM....Okey,
okey...now we're getting somewhere....Noe, don't play with that globe
over the toi-LET!...*shakes head*...OK, well, Listerine sterilizes,
right?....good as new. Alrightly, then, back to our friends....

As indicated by the accompanying photographs, we are regulars of the
playground that is a mere 100 meters from our front door. Recently the
British boys I met there were quite tickled by the differences in
American and British
language...knickers..panties....trainers..sneakers....boot..trunk....comfort..fabric
softner....hat..lid....tap..faucet....football..soccer. Heard tell as
I was walking away..."I'm gonna meet an American girl and move
there...." ;)

foist (foist) Pronunciation Key
tr.v. foist·ed, foist·ing, foists
1. To pass off as genuine, valuable, or worthy.
2. To impose (something or someone unwanted) upon another by coercion
or trickery.

Definition 1 or 2?? .....You Decide. ;)

Moments

Moments,
originally uploaded by beckybumblefuck.

(pictures taken by P. Nuzzi)



Americans aren't excessive....A quick trot around my little dead-end

street revealed 29 houses and 67 cars (including only the visible

ones-i.e. not the ones in garages or the ones that were out of

town.)....erm.



Noel's best bud, big boy Bryant said to me as we were leaving school

one day: "Can Noel come over and sleep with me again?" *big sweet,

pleading blue eyes*

Me: *gulp* Er....sure. (And this is officially the ONLY time that I am

agreeing to a request like that from a boy....)



More soon (i.e. not the ridiculous amount of time it took for me to

post this.) ;)

Moments

Moments,
originally uploaded by beckybumblefuck.

(pictures taken by P. Nuzzi)

Notables

To amuse the teachers....
Noel wore her "All American Girl" shirt today.
To the question: "Are you guys kidding?" We responded, "Well, it's old. and she'll grow out of it."

To amuse the lady on that street....
[watching the cars on the street cruise by, while eating our coconut, chocolate chip, almond ice cream]
Noel: "I want one of those." [points to porsche]
Mom: "Mom will never be able to afford one of those, Babe."
[lady laughs and sympathizes...]

To amuse me.....
Noel: (emphatically) I am NOT food!!!