England Ahoy

F is leaving tomorrow for his little Cambridge chats. Unlike Feng's son (who also made the cut of course), Frederick will make his way to the Berkeley hotel where E and C will be waiting; tea cups in hand. He says he still has an oyster card and will hop on the tube with his little roller suitcase, like a slightly brainy flight attendant. Then, after a nourishing meal and sleep, his aunt and uncle will pick him up and take him to King's college where he will sleep in new Brooks Brothers pyjamas bought by Nana. What I am trying to say is, he has a lot of support in this adventure.

His uncles told him that it's a pity that the Brigham who can pass the natural sciences entrance exam, is not the one with story telling chops. If one of us were going, the stories would be legendary. He had to sign both a scanned and hard copy of an agreement saying that he wouldn't reveal to anyone what was on the test, or what transpired at the interviews. Ha.
He will be revealing, I tell you- or he is out of what is left of the tattered will. Obviously I will be posting all details here.

I love the severity of the letter above- not a single exclamation point. Thomas is looking at the names of the professors who will meet with F and they look like a fun crowd.

Finally, ya'll should know the two best things in the week as determined by me: Maureen Dowd's article about H.W. Bush, and the "All I want for Christmas" - message from the women of SNL song on Saturday night live. Do not delay availing yourselves of both.

H.W. Bush never wrote a memoir (don't you love that?). He did however compile a book of his letters. It's a bit like this blog, though I like this form better: letters written into thin air.


next update complete with exaggerations and lunacies coming Friday.