Trip Report

We arrived on Thursday and were met by my SIL's husband (to distinguish between him and my BIL) and Christopher Robin who got a little cranky because lunch was late even though daddy told him it would take a long time to come get us at the airport. Here, I met my 9 month old nephew. What a doll. A vomiting doll. We stayed in the front room on an air mattress and lugged our suitcases up to be out of the way when we sat in the front room and down in the evenings. London houses are very small and lack storage in a major way. He was very disappointed when we left, but we're not sure if it was us or that the airbed was coming down (it's a bouncy castle!). In two days, I fell deeply and madly in love with the baby and was so sad to leave him to go to Wimbledon...

...where we were welcomed like rock stars! My oldest nephew couldn't contain his excitement. Didn't go to sleep until 11pm and then was up at 5am! I got to meet my 4.5 year old nephew for the first time. What a doll he was. The moment we walked in we were accosted by Harry Potter talk (they've only read the first two books and seen movie 1). The boys taught us everything we will ever need to know about playing one of the HP computer games. They were very impressed that I had read all the books and seen all the movies and eaten Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (esp. the ear wax one; they thought that was a riot). And I may continue shipping American candy to the UK... (only fair since I buy Bounty bars for my sister every time I visit) We went to Hampton Court on Saturday and the London Eye on Sunday. We gave them the Harry Potter scarves and WOW! were they excited!!!!!! When the littler one saw his brother's present he was very jealous, but you should have seen his face when he saw that he got the HP hat and scarf set too. He lit up the room--with his most beautiful blue eyes. Sigh...more falling in love. On the morning we left, his mum said "give [them] a hug; they won't be here when you come home." The oldest did a bit tearily, but the younger burst into tears. I still get all misty thinking of it...what a softy the bitch has become.

We hopped on the underground to head out to Heathrow to fly up to my MILs. That's where I found out about the flying restrictions. No sharps. Apparently ALL needles are sharps. (And you can stitch on planes if you have nail clippers.) Oh, and can I just say how stupid that this is the same country that lets you bring wrapped presents on planes. At last, we had an opportunity to sleep in the same room as our bags. And indeed to sleep late. She did, of course, take us on long walks through Durham, which you might not know is very hilly. Very hilly.

I flew back last night. It was not the best flight back. A little girl in our row got all whingy when she couldn't see Philadelphia out of the window. Then a cough, and a gag, and she's throwing up all over the place (not on me, I was in the window and she was in the middlest seat). Yummy. Then I heard my name announced while I was waiting for my bags before I went through customs. I was totally freaked out and all sorts of things like full body cavity searches ran through my head. Turns out despite the fact that my bags were at Heathrow for four hours they decided not to fly to Philadelphia with me. Yeah. So that kind of sucked. But they delivered them tonight. Anyone who has read Patricia Cornwell can tell you that is nothing to look forward to.

Lots to show and tell you about--my copy of Warm Fuzzies arrived while I was away just for starters!