Good, Bad, Beautiful

Today is Victorian Day in Michael's class.

He told us all about life in Victorian times...

They had no toilets. If you wanted to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night you used a bowl under your bed, for poop or pee. Then, in the morning, you threw it out of the window, and if anyone was walking past at that moment, the poop and pee would fall on their head.

Electricity wasn't allowed in Victorian times. They used candle sticks, and the ladies wore really big skirts, and when they walked down stairs with their candle, their skirts were so big they would trip and fall and die.

They didn't have bath tubs or showers, they used dirt tubs.

They didn't have washing machines, they used wash boards to wash their clothes, and everyone had to wash their own clothes, even kids, not just mommies and daddies. So everyday all day long you had to wash your clothes. And I don't think that's fair to do that without getting paid.

I'm right with you, brother.

Thoughts on the Weather
It rains a lot. It has only "bucketed" a few times, mostly it is the lightest rain that you cannot see from inside the house. It is only when we get outside that we can tell if it is raining or not. Every morning I come down stairs and press my face to the window and stare at our deck and the plants in our backyard for some sign of movement by water. It probably rains about 4 - 7 days a week for part of the day...

I am used to Tucson rain, or Los Mochis rain. A cleansing rain that blasts from the sky and washes away all blemishes and leaves behind a fresh and sparkley world. The rain here puffs up my hair, and turns everything green.

Our house is covered in green fuzz balls that roll off of our roof.

And with rain comes mud.

But oh, the dog poop!

We live in dog heaven.

Bowling for water fowl.

Brits take fantastic care of their doggies, taking them for long walks, you see them frolicking in the lakes and streams, chasing sticks and balls. And they do pick up after them. Every where you go you see people carrying saggy baggies...

But there's always the one that got away.

And this leads to my complaint/observation about the rain here. It rains constantly, but not hard enough to wash away the turds. The constant drizzle holds any stray dookie in a preserved state of moisture. I have seen a massive one last for two weeks as fresh as a daisy. In Tucson it would dry up and blow away...

I have evolved a sixth sense for dog poop detection. I memorize where, on our walk to school, the turds are and yell ahead to the boys, "Don't step in the dog poop!"

I am suspicious of piles of leaves, or piles of snow...

Dominic's teacher told us we came in the worst month, August, because the weather was only going to get worse.



Heath Lake, iced over.
There were zinging sounds coming from the ice
as the ducks moved over it and made tiny cracks.

Lastly, it's very dark. The combo of our latitude of 51 degrees and the cloud cover, it is dark dark dark a lot.

But not always.

We so rarely get a sunny spell (forget a whole sunny day) that when the sun came out a few days ago, Michael got very excited and shouted, "THE SUN IS OUT!!" It is truly that exciting!

Fortunately, we are on the backside of darkness. Beginning December 21st we gain two minutes a day of daylight.

 It is the reverse of what we care about in Tucson, which is making it through the summer.

I always feel proud come September, knowing I survived another Tucson summer.

I already feel a small sense of accomplishment for weathering the winter in England.

Egyptian Geese, Horseshoe Lake

Tucson


Rain coats

It is hard to be away from the town we love during a time of tragedy.

But we are deeply inspired to see our Tucson come together and show the world the loving community we know and cherish.

I love my home town.

The neighborhood heavy.

 And I am falling in love with Crowthorne.


Naming ducks.

 I had an inkling the other day that when it is time to leave, I will miss it.


Such handsome fellows!