El Spa Bound

The Burke's girls and I are going to a spa in Mexico to celebrate Mindy's birthday. Last night I found this picture, which says a lot about our childhood together...

All three of them: Cath, Min and Fiona, are looking at me in various states of disbelief as I lay out some plan to climb into the neighbor's house in scuba gear to steal chocolate. 

By the way I am holding back my cheap Dorothy Hamill hair cut, however, it seems even I have my doubts- as if I 'm saying: "Wait a minute-  anything over 1,000 bucks constitutes a felony, right?"

This is the way it often was-me on a makeshift Mussolini balcony in tomboy clothes giving a little speech. They-ever patient, ever incredulous, but ever game. 

The girl in the green was someone from the east coast who came to Stinson that year for the tennis camp. I don't remember her name, but she was wonderful; and clearly ballsy-because she is the only one telling me I am crazy, it will never work. (This threw me because I was not used to dissent). She was rather New York cool- I mean she had the rope bracelet and drank vitamin smoothies every day. I, by contrast, seem to be wearing Andrew's pants. 

What I find so poignant about the image is that it shows how little has changed, despite the fact that so much has. Something has endured. I am not sure what to call it-but it is that thing that makes you want to sit around and talk to each other long into the night. That thing that makes you laugh harder with them than anyone else. So that is what we are going to do...

Because this is my first spa experience, I am apprehensive about the caloric restrictions; but have a plan in place to break out of jail if the situation gets dire.  My cohorts are more concerned about the negative attitude at the Spa towards alcohol. But we are ready-

Fiona has been designated wine finder, and Min (our beauty, our angel, the one I cast as cinderella to mine and Alexia's ugly step sisters in my play) is stashing vodka in her carry on. Vodka, after all has the most alcohol per calorie. 

Endure we shall. 

January 16; Exeter New Hampshire

Chico sent this today; thought I would share with his groupies. 

It looks like Russia, where this blog is, apparently, huge. (Insert smiley face).

He is writing a big paper on religion, so my little left brainer called and asked if he could Skype with his semi crunchy new age mother to review some basics. (!) This was noteworthy because it was literally the first time I have ever helped him with homework. Too funny. He quite likes the class; but is so uncomfortable with the question, which was to discuss how he "felt" about his family's religion. 

Unless an anvil falls on his foot, Feelings are rather difficult for him to describe. 

Jack Herney told us to go see Spotlight- saying it is as much about Boston as it is about the church. Tonight we did....now so should of all of you.  It's a must.

Xx

Night San Francisco 

Post Script

The next day I asked F what his basic thesis was, and this was the text:

"Too long to text but it involves comfort, brunging family together on holidays and the starting point for life's mysteries".

Brung on life's mysteries! Amen to that.

Drop Off

I did not take this picture; and in any case it did not look this romantic when we dropped F off in the dark, cold night. 

He was apprehensive, but ok. At first we were hesitant to help him with his very heavy suitcase up four flights, until I thought about what CAB would think of bowing to the opinions of pimply faced SAT acers. As I always tell F: it is they who should be worried about looking cool in front of me. 

I'm the cool one. 

So we did,  and he even let me change his bed and then he hugged us and went off in search of friends. 

I see why not everyone wants to do this though- it can't be as easy as sleeping in your own bed with parents and El Salvadoreans and dogs to nurture you. Also it is f ing freezing. 

As we were leaving I saw a post it note on his door. It said "eat healthy and get lots of sleep". I asked him about this, and he answered: I tried to think what you would have told me mommy" .

This literally killed me. 

You mother someone because you hope that someday, somehow, they will get the hang of it- and learn to mother themselves. 

Anyway, it's a little step, a little lurch towards something good.

Can't wait to see the rain!! 

Xxx

PS

Yes I will send photo evidence of the drop off at PEA, even if I have to sneak it.

Such a jarring surprise to wake up in freezing, mountain-less Boston...:( the horror...

Must turn focus to the west now: California and Albert and thou; tomorrow! 

Xx 

ebw 

5 54 a.m.

Broken Hearted..

Skiing is a dance, and the mountain always leads.  ~Author Unknown

Forgive the title, but I tend toward the melodramatic when the Lech vacation ends and Russians replace us in the tages bar. Nothing against Russians; (they add a certain dramatic flair to the sauna) but they are not the faces of my friends...

Had an interesting last day with Lisi. (Ya just knew she wasn't going to let me off easy.) It was me and F and Sophie, age 10, who skies like the wind. There was no visibility and plenty of ice and bad skiers; so both Thomas and Lisi warned me to be extra careful. Lisi even told me that the first and the last days of one's ski holidays were notorious for accidents. Then she took away my poles and sped off.
After about an hour of me following 20 seconds behind everyone in the fog, Lisi pulled me aside and asked what the hell I was doing.
"? I'm being careful.."
Then she proceeded to give me a pep talk that sounded somewhere between that of Knute Rockne and George Patton. She told me that I was "such a good technical skier"; she told me that she could see the Harumi influence in me (that's when I started licking her face); but then she told me quite simply to step on it; this was no time to be comfortable-she wanted me to be uncomfortable- with the crowds and ice and fog and pistes littered with injured bodies...I should feel that discomfort. 

I am not making this up. First she tells me that the last day of skiing is the most dangerous; then she tells me to man up and ski faster. Chip chop and no you can not have your poles, and shut up about the ice. She is quite mad that woman; I love her so...

I have not even told you about the day she got me up early, mumbling something about a hike in an area far from here. The next thing I knew I was being pulled along with my skis on -like a deer after he has been shot... but is now water skiing. (So he is dead and scared.)
It's called a ski-do and I had never seen it before. One remains on one's skis and then a semi drunk looking local arrives in a "quad" with treads on the bottom of it and a large group of skiers grabs the rope. 

The guides are screaming something into the wind about DO NOT ACHTENFLUGEN or you will SCHNIZTZELCARPEN! ! 

'WHAT??" Don't do WHAT???
But there is no time for instructions because the driver takes off at high speed, turning this way and that on the icy, bumpy road. I am loudly praying that the person in front of me doesn't fall. Because if he does, I will have to react quickly enough to ski around him, or risk crashing. And then I will be left to die in the woods.
I survived this ordeal, only to find Lisi had planned a three hour walk over hill and dale; skins on, skins off; skies on skies off until i considered crying for my mother. Who am I kidding? I was crying for Frau Schneider. 

Despite the hell of it all, here is the reason why I do it- here is why people ski:

Skiing reminds you that your instincts are sometimes, exactly wrong:
To be safe in skiing, you have to throw yourself a bit down the hill; you have to lean off the cliff; lean towards the fear, even though you have doubt. 

And this I believe is called faith.

I was recently reading an article about happiness, and it seems happiness is a simple two part process (who knew?) 

Feel the pain

Dissolve the pain

Do not skip a step.

That's pretty much what I do with Lisi and Harumi:  I experience doubt and fear and pain. And then I get lunch.

So onward to 2016! 

Here's to more adventure, more love, more tiny victories over the mind and body, more time together;  

pain, 

dissolve, 

repeat. 

See you soon xx

ski-do skeptic

Me, my underage bartender and my nose ringed dancing partner....

Happy New Year

We have had New Year's; and it was the most fun New Year's eve in a long while...lots of dancing, and no hangover, so all around excellent attempt.
Why is it happy people dance, and unhappy people don't?
What is it about dancing that separates the men from the boys in the mental health department? Of course the lone exception is Thomas who is uncomfortable on a dance floor...but that is the German in him. Can't have the same person who builds your rocket invent new dance moves. But newly minted lesbians, hopeless romantics, Canadians, and international divorcees, all flock to the tiny Almhof floor. It's the best; or the best of the worst dancing you have ever seen. Oh sure, we could use a few more (some) black people....but in the right light, a sunburnt Austrian looks almost comfortable out there. Oh my God! the plans we made! They keep coming up in the cold light of day. Here is a partial list:
My 50th will be in Cartagena and will be attended by Canadians AND the very cute underage bartender with the weird name (mentor?) from the Almhof. I just remember thinking as he hugged me for just a tad longer than Mrs. S would have liked, that this special bond must be celebrated in South America.
The new Lesbian crowd here will alas not be in Cartagena, but not because we are anti gay. Or anti gay dancing...no. It's just that the lesbians hog the floor and make me dance with them and thomas was getting irritated. He claims one of them-a twenty year- old kept singing my praises ("your wife is SO great") and lord knows I try not to brag...but she is thirty years younger..

Next year's New Years eve will be a buffet -followed by a fondue. Or maybe it's the other way around.
There are more, but they are only fuzzy at this point...

The photos of course tell a different story..mon dieu. Why why why did I not use powder? and why did I think lipstick was enough?...eye liner! more eye liner was needed! I honestly think I need to jump off a high ledge. Maybe tomorrow...reminds me of my favorite Annie Lammott quote:
I want to kill myself but I need to lose five pounds first.

Oh before the dinner and dancing we had a pre party in curlers which is always my favorite part....bunch of crazy women; a few husbands pop their heads in, but retreat like moles in daylight when we screech our greeting. Wouldn't even stay for a picture.

Tomorrow is last day with Lisi..I didn't even tell you about our insane day of hiking. But I will.
More soon. Ski must now.
xxx

To Heli and back

Pictured above is Lisi, and Heli- another mountain guide from Lech. I joked he looked so much like a movie version of an Austrian mountain guide that he couldn't be real. (I think he might even have had elk blood on his jacket.. )

Yesterday had a day for the records I tell you... Went from plan "A" to plan "D" with yours truly bouncing along for the ride.

 I really am amazed I made it without actually crying. 

More details to follow, but here is all you need to know before you girls fall asleep tonight: 

1. skiing tells you a lot, if not everything, about how to face life. 

And, 2. if you have to ask if a person loves you-they probably don't. 

But your ski guide does.. Even if you don't deserve it. 

Sleep now 

Xx

Girl Power

Where I am lying writing this...

We had a lovely Christmas, but it felt odd-maybe it was the weather, maybe it was because I forgot my Handel's Messiah CD; but it didn't feel like a normal year.

The speeches however were wonderful: G and Frau S spoke about the renovations, and the symbolism of re-birth and change and progress. Then our Muslim dignitary spoke beautifully about the Syrian refugees' plight, and their welcome in Europe. I tell ya he was a hit, especially with the elderly ladies. One German fan who can't speak English gushed: "I have heat!". 

It's my new mantra. ...so primitive and yet so descriptive. 

Spent another day with my hero Lisi- the hand's down coolest woman on the earth. For those who may be planning an adventure vacation in the mountains soon, Lisi is a mountain guide- (one of only 10 females in Austria) meaning she can take you skiing out of bounds, and she can take you up Mt. Everest. Harumi is a ski guide only, so she skips the Everest. L grew up with four brothers, one of whom drowned at age three before she was born. She talked about it over lunch with us and we were stunned by the telling; particularly the beauty of how he is clearly still part of the family, and how profoundly sad they still are.  Like most Austrian mountain people she is serious-(the only time I could really make her laugh is when I told her of Harumi's dismay at my race performance) but she is more so. Anyway the family survived and spent many hours climbing up some wall in the Tyrol region...her mother forbade the children from climbing until they were seven, but Lisi was so "cute" and adamant, that they let her climb it at 5.
But to give you an idea how dangerous her sports are, last year she went to six funerals of friends of hers-all young people. Thomas of course wanted the break down of the causes of death; it seems avalanches killed most but not all. One fell of a cliff inexplicably. She has been in an avalanche herself, but pulled on her airbag back pack; a device she says "she loves". Then, even though it saved her life, she tried skiing without it a few times in the back country, to see if it had an effect on her decision making. To see if she took more risk with it on. Without question, she told us, she goes closer to the edge with it on.

Oh not only is she a sponsored athlete but she got her MBA so if she can't ski or climb anymore, she will have something to do.
Get a load of this picture from her website....www.lisisteurer.at


So you see why Thomas is keen to come along with us.
Today she truly kicked both of our rear ends with a 2.5 hour walk up a hill. Honestly, I wouldn't do this for any other woman....Harumi is much softer on me, more afraid I will have a cow if I am away from civilization too long.
But Lisi seems to think I am just fine tagging along with her.
And so I do.

A Royal Workout

Get a load of the weather forecast above. Indeed, it feels exactly like April here, with large patches of grass on the slopes and balmy temperatures.
We went on a very energetic excursion the other day with my bad ass replacement for Harumi.  H has given birth to a little boy named Ted. (is that the cutest??) with a middle name in Japanese that means "snowed a lot" because he was born in a snow storm (obviously.)  So I was assigned a new teacher-Lizzie: basically the coolest woman ever. In the off season she is a serious rock climber and is just back from Patagonia climbing and dangling and cavorting with Alex Honnold.
Anyway, she takes all of us out the first day to see how we ski, and the next day, we give the kids away,  and she takes us into the wilds for some skinning (walking up hill in skis). I had of course told her that Andrew and M and T would be her star pupils in anything cardio; but I would be a problem after an hour and a half. No matter...she wasn't listening. She proceeds to make us walk for just a tad longer than I would have on my own. And by "tad" I mean "plenty".
But we had a good time: skiing on patches of snow and grass, and then taking off skis and walking in water and then some ice....it's too bizarre.
There are many beautiful women in the hotel-new mothers mostly, with beautiful sad faces and bored husbands. My friends had mused that is was depressing to face the prospect of being out shined by a new crop...and I could not relate. The reason is not some sort of greater self confidence on my part. On the contrary-it's just that my husband is not interested in underweighted bad skiers in Prada. My husband worships people like Lizzie. As well he should. Believe me, she is beyond....competent and talented and kind and so f ing brave. And isn't courage the single most attractive thing in a person? Don't we all want a piece of that? Women like her and Harumi make me proud: really, I bathe in their reflected glory.
Speaking of courage-my absolute favorite Arab man in the hotel has agreed to give the xmas speech tonight. This is sort of big news in our Schneider universe because he does this professionally; so it is bound to be good.  To give you an idea, the last speech he gave was basically an announcement to get people to sign up for the ski race, but it was so moving-some of the Austrians thought it was time to invade Poland again. (last Poland joke of 2015 I promise!)

I will make this one short because it is Christmas eve and that might require an entry to itself tomorrow. more soon xx

One If by Land, Two If by Sea

I dragged Thomas through the Granary Burial Ground-resting place of Paul Revere and Benjamin Franklin's parents; among others. We were of course on our way to the Contemporary Museum of Art (where else) and I really had to put my foot down. I mean how many egg shell cartons symbolizing one's fear of failure can we see? But I think T liked it, and he is not really a buyer of the whole- freezing gray day in New England thing. Throw in a grave yard and he gets downright suicidal.
As most of you know, our very own Abiah Folger Karthauser (P. Folger's daughter) is named for Abiah Folger, mother to Benjamin Franklin. And this is what Ben Franklin had written on his parents' gravestone (i love this)

Josiah Franklin 

and 

Abiah His Wife

Lie Here Interred

They lived together lovingly, together in wedlock

Fifty Five years

Without any Estate or any Gainful employment (?)

blah blah 13 children pious, honest industry discreet virtuous, blah
then..

From this instance reader

be encouraged to Diligence in thy calling

and distrust not providence

In other words: work hard-and believe it is going to be ok, but don't worry about an actual job. Parachutes open, so jump. Also don't be a slut.

The other interesting thing about Boston is the people. First, and I am not making this up, the people you think should be at a hipster coffee house, are in fact at dunkin donuts. And not in an ironic-I'm so cool, I drink Dunkin Donuts way (guilty), but in a long line: I'm just popping in for a donut after yoga. It's a mad house. Also they suggest coming for lunch. lunch!
The second interesting thing is how chatty the citizens are! Is it the Irish in them? What is up with that? Our waiter will not leave us alone...drones on and on and shows up photos of the kiddies. The uber driver actually interrupts what we are talking about to chime in. I swear it's like a Seinfeld episode.
Ellie to Thomas: that egg shell display from the Iranian artist was witty wasn't it.
Thomas: Yes, Do you want to go to Bikram with...
Driver: WHAT ARE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT? DO YOU LIKE EGGS? WHERE DOES YOUR KID GO TO SCHOOL?
And not just once...it was like he was a friend, but in the front seat and just hadn't heard something directly. I have to say it cracked us up-

Ok finally I know you all want the chico update. We had a lunch with him-quick and cheerful with the Hermeys and Will. Then Thomas and i drove through the rain to go to dinner last night-a Friday no less, the night before the last half day before vacation. One would think it would be a gay carefree evening. But one would forget we are at PEA and they hit your hard...I think they might make you do homework on the way to the airport. F was on edge: said he had another two tests in the morning and a tour of the school to conduct. There is no doubt, he is under more pressure than ever in his little life. I can't say he is stressed, but he is tense....(Not the best time to ask him if he had a clean shirt or two for Lech). Sadly for me and my Christmas spirit, he arrived, straight from class at 6 15, and left by 7 30. But we did get some good intell out of him: he is taking some very cool classes-one on religion where they have dived right in about religion in America...in Bio they are dissecting...God I don't know -a former Exonian? class of 23? speaking Spanish to the king of Spain...knee bends in New Hampshire fields. All very storybook boarding school-painful but wonderful. I am sure it is like this for all parents of high schoolers, but because we don't see him everyday, it's like he is growing up as we are looking at him. As if we see the molecules expand and multiply in front of us.
Sigh. I must retreat to my mantra: We are mammals. My job is to make myself irrelevant.
And we are close to that already....

F did really well in my opinion in his first semester. So I asked what his advisor said about his grades; then I sat back, ready to luxuriate in the kind words. A little background-in a movie, she would be cast as that softball coach we all had..the one who doesn't show emotion until Jimmy overcomes cancer and wins the little league world series; so I knew she wasn't going to clap. But the way he told it, she looked at the grades, and said (I am paraphrasing, but it's my blog...)
Huh. I thought all Californians were lightweights.  Not bad. Now get out of my office, and don't cause me any trouble, I got enough on my plate. (How this cheered my Teutons! Honesty! how delicious...)
Urban legend (rural legend?) is she singlehandedly subdued a drugged out football player in his senior year. Just kneed him to the ground before the police could.
Kid probably came from California.

So F has just reported he got an flat A on his last test (Math) before break...he is free!! a little packing and we will meet at the airport for quick hop to beloved Lech. G is sending cocky texts (either that or he is massively drunk). They sound like a man who has accomplished something very difficult, or created something very beautiful.
Can't wait.
more soon from the mountains my lovelies...

We Ride...

Ok bloggies- we are off. We have a record setting number of bags and yoga magazines (see earlier blog); only thing missing is Albert. 

Boston til Saturday night, then direct to Lech, where we will see a new hotel - new lobby new kids area; and most importantly, a new tages bar- the soul of the place. My friends will already be there, and I'm hoping they send photos as soon as they enter. 

Alas, I fear I will be disappointed, and no advance photos will be forthcoming. Sigh. I wonder why I travel away from you guys.

Just praying K and G are not naked and babbling from the stress of the past few months. Honestly, their texts have become more and more cryptic, and only arrive in the middle of the night their time.

But who am I kidding? Frau S will be

tending to Princes and porn directors alike...  Our very own Angela Merkel in a dirndl: living proof that our long journey is over, and we are welcome.

Vegas or bust

Greetings Loyalies

I have arrived home to my dog and a strange green chicken concoction from 

El Salvador; and in case I don't tell you enough: I really love you all....! Also, I will never tell anyone about that incident in Mexico. ( Because I seem to have had an incident with most of you in Mexico. So you all know what I mean).

Flight update: handsome pilot did not buy enough fuel to get us home taking into consideration the very strong headwinds and extra traffic in SFO. Basically, after an especially long flight west, he didn't have enough reserve for the circling he would have to do. 

So after a 6.5 hour flight, we landed in Las Vegas. You can imagine my joy, especially because the landing was extra bumpy over the mountains. 

Thomas, God Bless him for this- mused that maybe we should just high tail it to the Amman resort which is a four hour drive. But the siren call of my own bed and Albert was too strong. 

 So after a refuel, back we fly, armed with a cheap Chardonnay through the bumpy clouds home. Thomas calls me a plane-aholic; i.e. there is a strong correlation between emergency landings and turbulence and my accepting the largesse of the Virgin America Bar.

Above is the shot of the sky after we were safely in the taxi. I had to admit that these clouds, though the source of my torment, were astoundingly beautiful. 

Best part was a got a text from GS as we were landing saying: Don't crack under pressure! Random but psychic. Love the Austrians- they always show up when you are at your darkest hour. 

A few anecdotes from visit with F: he says won't put on a large winter coat until every single girl is wearing one. This means, he will never don his coat. Sigh. God counts a mother's tears as the Irish say (or was it the Jews?)

He is very tight with the preps in his dorm... Says his dorm has a bit of a rogue reputation. I am not sure what this means among the high SAT crowd..(braces-clad lotharios? ) We shall see. In any case, he says the reputation is wholly undeserved. 😇 

We Meet at Last...

So we made a triumphant, if very late, entrance into Ireland- ancesteal land of comedic giants in my life: the McEnerneys and the Carney sisters. Sadly, we had to opt for room service because of the hour, but our upgraded suite was so huge ( guess not that many people honeymoon in Dublin in November..) we didn't mind missing the pub.  One blogger, whom I'll refer to as "Lathy Smarper" had asked in rather lurid detail for a photo of me " in the pub surrounded by tortured Irish men with black eyes and black turtlenecks. " or something to that effect. Alas I was unable to provide.. But nice idea Lathy!!

The thing that hits you immediately is how educated the average person seems to be- our taxi driver regaled us with history and politics; it appears they are still not quite over the 'Troubles' and he choose wonderfully descriptive  language when describing the Protestants..especially the use of the word 'Feck' . It's so adorable, I intend to officially switch from the pronunciation favored by my father, to the Irish one. Try it, you'll see.

Since we only had the morning to tool around, and books are worshipped here, we used it to visit a bookstore , and the library at Trinity University.

 The famed Book of Kell (8th century manuscript of the gospels-) was a hit, but my jaw dropped and stayed that way when I turned the corner and saw the above. The "long room" is a library that is still in use by researchers, presumably in black turtlenecks, with books as high and far as the eye can see; a church built to the worship of the written word. I could go everyday. 

In any case, I will return for a more in depth tour. 

 Off to see the boy, armed with a mini chocolate cake (his absolute fav) from Lydia in Portugal. Then home Monday for thanksgiving count down.

Xxx

Adios Portugal

I have been hearing complaints from the McEnerney girls that there have not been blogs from Portugal. 

( I thought you had heard it all already!) The weather has been nice- we swam in the ocean with the Brighams and had a few epic naps to the sound of rain. So a bit of heaven all around. The light is so beautiful, I can't describe it; and the photo above gives only the vaguest idea of the glory of the sunset stroll. 

Otherwise a lot of exercise, a lot of fish, a bit of golf with the famous pre dinner dry white port. 

The Brigham kids made us laugh so hard - we are definitely on their side against their parents every time- and we will lobby hard for a return trip by them. We have many Portuguese stones left to turn.

Tomorrow: the big news, Ellie's triumphant, first ever entry into Ireland ., land of her people; or at least the boozy, fist fighting ones. 

Maybe I'll give a tasteful press conference in the lobby upon my arrival..

Parents Invasion

So we got a glimpse behind the curtain, and saw a bit how F lives. He is really happy; and likes the feeling of living on his own. His dorm has a lot of " preps" or "juniors"- the Exeter names for freshman. - and they are having a fine time. Best part was the math class where it became clear to me exactly how they teach differently here. Specifically, they don't teach at all. Not really- the whole sit around the table thing is secondary to this strange but wonderful technique of taking motivated tykes and having them teach it to themselves, and then to each other. There is only gentle direction from the teacher who is like the really smart kid who kind of asks the leading question that moves the discussion along. Ot perhaps the one that can explain it in a special way.. But she plays a supporting role only. In math the kids arrive and go to the board to write out their questions- and show how they got their answers. Then they present that to the class, and the class asks questions or if needed, point out errors. It sounds terrifying I know! But they are so not afraid; they are adorable little group of puppies that laugh and cajole and tease. F drew the short stick and had to show a tough one. Two very adorable girls then went to town with question after question; filled with honest confusion and skepticism. The teacher said nothing. I turned to Thomas and said: I think he's going down on this one.. These girls smell blood in the water. The question was; if the car is filled with 40% anti freeze and 60% water and you want to make it 50% anti freeze ( without taking it all out and starting again- Brigham style) what is the equation. 

F could not easily convince them.. Back and forth it went. Teacher speaks up in quiet southern accent: Think about where the 7 -11 is.. That'll help..(I'm paraphrasing.. Who is listening at this point?) 

So F beats back the adorable mob and class ends.. Then as we are saying goodbye to him, little chirps of voices from behind- Frederick! Can you explain that last X axis thing? And like in the brochure, they go off three of them to jam a little math in their break. I tell you, it is devious how it gets kids to talk about school stuff all the bloody time. 

Also interesting is the kind of people who come!! One father looked like someone on Duck Dynasty..but with a shaved Mohak. With- not making this up- a baby with same shaved Mohak. I of course give them my best, guilty white liberal look like "welcome, outsiders, to Exeter.." But sure enough, while I am busy figuring out which girls are nicest to F, duck dynasty blurts out the answer to a question no kid knew... Not such a hick after all. But where do they find geniuses who give babies shaved heads ? Only at Exeter I guess. 

I know all you want is the photos .. So I'll stop there. Xxx

Above F defending his method..

F with Burkes girl buddy. 

Computer science class above..

In front of the hallowed Wentworth four square.