Arrived Portugal

It's cool to be Canadian now.

Arrived on the flight to Portugal with Charles like we always do: tripping after him with laughter dribbling down our chins. My God he is funny. I told him about JFk Jr. As we were entering the plane. 

"How'd did he die, Auntie?" 

"Plane crash"

"Oh great!! Now I have to find wood.." And off he goes, politely passing people to get two inches from the stewardess' nose to ask her for "some wood". 

After her initial confusion, the BA training kicks in and she hands him a bread basket .

(Straw , wood. What's the difference?)

God I love that kid. There is no one on the earth that makes me laugh that hard. 

Thomas too: even when Thomas sees that Charlie's shoelace is attached to the bag that has the passports and is now dangling out of the cab, he is laughing. 

Charlie told Frederick that he intended to go into business with him: and I say invest.

Really, they are perfect team: without Charlie flirting with the other passengers, they would have been separated on the plane; and without F rationing Charlie's juicy fruit, they would have been gum less.

Ok onward: must discuss the Brexit; the decline of the British empire; the above connection to BA planes; and why we should hug Canadians. 

Actually lets just focus on Canadians shall we? The only non angry not totally f Ed up white men.

First: they have as prime minister a man who looks like something out of a fairy tale; and who even Obama has a crush on. 

They have no gun violence even though they hunt; they take care of the environment, and old people; and they have too many volunteers who want to take in Syrian refugees. That's right you heard me: if you want a refugee, you have to wait. 

Are they sexy? Maybe not... But then again maybe in the right northern light..?

Anyway boring is the new cool, people. That's all I'm saying.

Also- embrace change!  It is the nature of life. Don't fight the flow... That is what the Brits did in this election and it is gonna hurt. 

The people of the world are getting browner; coal is no longer a viable career choice; we have no privacy anymore.  Deal with it. Leaving the EU is like wanting to stick it to the establishment by shooting yourself in the face. 

So this is my plan: remember when I saved Aretha Franklins's life by dancing? And I got rid of a New Year's Eve cold the same way?

Well I propose we do it again. 

Dance away Trump. This summer:  get rid of anyone who doesn't get it, who won't dance or laugh or support your plan to get tipsy on a plane listening to Dire Straights' Tunnel of love.

Get rid of them because they are clinging to your joyful ankles and are now in the way.

Go dance until Trump goes away.

Now I have it go find Charlie who is MIA from the business section of this plane.

Plus Ça Change...

Well this will be a riveting entry...basically we slept walked through London (where Queen Mary where?), visiting the science museum and Imperial College of London (top engineering university, maybe for F) and the Tate modern. As the photos will prove, the boys are goofing around exactly as they always did, just in bigger bodies. 

More soon- flying to Porugal now... Xx

 Boys photo bombing the performance art at the Tate. 

Now... And below: few years back. Same doofuses. 

They had us at the Concrete Canoe...

We had an unusually wonderful day at Cal; I really cannot explain the full extent, but basically MMB asked for a tour of the Berkeley college of engineering (ranked third in the world - after MIT and Stanford) because her grandchild seems so good at building things and 

he deserves it poor dear. Somehow the truth got lost that we were nobodies and we were treated to a day of the most  inspiring, in-your-face cool I have had in a long time. 

To summarize: we walked past a concrete canoe that had won the world concrete canoe contest. Engineering students submit a concrete canoe and then have to race it. Can't get the crew team involved; the propeller heads must row.

We saw cars they designed and bridge spans they get to play with and prosthetic hands they built and heard about a project with the cal band where the engineers had to write algorithms that would help the band not run into each other. We heard about the ethos of this particular school that sends kids one after the other to developing countries to build safe bridges and dams. Not apps. Bridges and dams damn it. (Stanford is more into the apps. Meow.) 

The republican nominee for president did not know what Brexit was until a reporter told him; he does not have a grasp of what a treasury bill is. And he doesn't know because he doesn't care. 

So what a salve for the worried soul to be at a place where people care so very much about a concrete canoe. Because that matters. It does. 

Then just when we had had our full; out come these two people from student services who cuddle with F; test his Spanish with  the Hispanic guy; and tell him to follow his bliss and it will be ok. They only accept half the percentage that letters and science at Cal does, but if he ioves bridges and canoes he should go for it. 

F wrote a rather funny thank you letter telling the story of the go cart down lomabrd- and how courage and a good paint job won't suffice: you have to know something about building. And I think one day he will. 

Here's to the colorful ones!

Happy Father's day to all. I often tell Frederick I could sit in the bathtub all day  with a large gin and I would still be a contender for mother of the year; simply because I scared up such a good father for him. 

But here is a toast to the fathers in red whose hands were big enough to hold two beers and a toddler. Here's to dreamy Exeter alums; to under focused Mensa members; to lovers of heat and sea and sail boats of any kind. Here's to slightly loose canons who teach you how to laugh and drink and fish and fight. Then tell you to read that book again but this time in its original language. 

Xxx

Alpine Gods

Our adorable alpinists left yesterday, and the house is so sad. Albert looks especially dejected because he thought he finally had the family he wanted: a person to play with in every room. 

I don't say this lightly, but we might be better people after having spent time with these two. Rarely have I met people with such joy for every single thing life has to offer: mountains, and sea and coffee and late nights dancing to Tommy's band, and the Mission and the Haight and the seventh annual naked bicycle race (oh san francisco...)-absolutely everything delighted them. 

They were sort of beautiful rays of light circling our house for a few days. 

Of course most people who met them thought they were these affable Austrians here for a holiday. But they are elite mountaineers who live literally and figuratively on the edge. Just as bad ass as they come; but in an adorable package. Obviously I will try to avoid skiing with them because their zest for life will surely get me killed. 

Ramona is also a professional photographer and she has a book on cows (not making this up) on Amazon...stay tuned for the title. 

Selfie above was thanks to the insane arm length of Matthias...he is a walking selfie stick. 

XXX

Girl Power

As if that weren't exciting enough, Burger King is making a combo whopper/burrito.

"The Whopperito".

Summer plans will mean blog heaven (Blogasm) including, but not limited, to: a cultural mountain retreat in Germany; a road trip to Dubrovnik and possibly a ferry ride from Split to Tuscany.

 Get ready to rumble in July. 

One down...

Once upon a time, three children from San Francisco all named for kings (William, Frederick and Henry) -went far from home and lived to tell the tale.   

Between them, they joined several JV teams; one varsity team;  earned some As, some Bs; and one unpublished Spanish award. 

Then their mothers came to take them home.

Anyway the entire student body stays up all night last night for a PEA tradition where the kids in each dorm sit together while the seniors reminisce about each other. F listened to each and every shenanigan until 4 30 a.m. when they went en masse (the entire school) to dunkin donuts.

(Ahh the pageantry.) He and one of his friends thought the stories were so amazing that they worried when they got to be seniors, they would have nothing to tell. So they resolved to ask for advice., i.e. Tips on shenanigans. (Just what I need.) 

The seniors also attempted to impart wisdom to the younger kids; and it turns out each senior said a version of the same thing: 

Go make a lot of friends, and take very good care of them. 

No mention of calculus or Plutarch or Harvard. No mention of lacrosse or footnotes. 

Just Love your friends and jump into the river with them occasionally.  Every boarding school  has this ethos  I think.  Something about the bonding in the trenches is unlike any other bonding. 

By the way, when I was living in Italy, I took the train to Rome from Milan often 😇 ; and on one trip I witnessed a pair of hovering Italian parents putting a blanket over their grown child while he slept.

And that is what I am doing right now.  

Post Script

Survived the other kid's room clean up. 

All is in relative order now... Lexi and I were his worst nightmare- bossing him around and cleaning out his sock and underwear drawer.  I told him to relax: I would report nothing but the syringes to his mother.

For the record, the kid in the messy room photo is not Chico! His room was no hospital, but it was not that.

Oh F forgot to tell me he got the Spanish award... (For preps). But the teacher said it did not make it into the official book. Doesn't know what happened. 

F said it's no big deal: he was the only kid not asleep in the class... But seriously? If ever there was proof of his grandfather's interference from the grave... This would be it. 

Olé!!

Lexi hard at work

Signs they are ignoring

Early morning run

Free at last -

Post last exam lunch

Dispatches from the Eastern Front

Above is a 14 year old prep (came to PEA at 13) whose face as been obscured to protect his identity. (Also blurred is the Bernie sign above his head- feel the Bern  kid.) 

I give you this to show a rough approximation of the room I will enter today. F is basically packed- mostly thanks to my incredible friend lexi. But we have agreed to help another kid from SF whose parents couldn't come. Apparently his room is legendary in its disorder. 

F's room was not without its surprises. He had an almost bucket sized amount of change by his bed: "it just doesn't feel like money mommy" yes well it is, and it is too heavy to pack, too ridiculous to store , so I went to the bank and asked for help. Apparently they could not, until lexi said she would stuff the coins into rolls, so the bank would exchange them. 

This is a hero in my book- rolling the little darling's coins into fifty bucks worth of  bills; while he is sharing his deep insights on Kierkegaard around a two hundred year old oak table. 

Oh and then she agreed to store his enormous electric skateboard at her sister's house an hour a way. Needless to say I bought dinner.

It's understandably whacky being here this time of year: seniors are sad and close to being out of control (we witnessed a bunch of them jumping off the bridge into the murky river; strictly verboten); the younger kids are nearly drowning in finals plus moving out of their rooms.

F is , thanks to me and Lexi and his natural temperament; rather relaxed. But all the kids are ready so ready to go home.

The principal here said she sees the school as a very large trampoline with protective sides on it.

Within that area the kids can bounce as high and as weird as they want. But they are protected from really bad ideas. I see it more like my kid has been in a martini shaker- it's been fun, and exciting; but he's had enough shaking for a while. 

Pray for me this afternoon!! Then dinner at the Herneys with plenty of fermented beverages; because in addition to her coin rolling talents; Lexi doesn't drink and has the rental car. Thank ya Jesus...

Xx

Another flight, another yoga magazine....

MMB has repeatedly asked for more hike details; so here goes (couch potatoes can read something else now..)
We didn't walk across the bridge because that is loud and boring. Started in Sausalito... Walked along the water but within eyesight of the freeway (alas) to mill valley; the road to which is long and flat, but not without its diversions. When we got to the beginning of the dipsea (very hilly last 8 miles) we had a pep talk and tea. Very Mount Everest/Mountbatten. Oh! And the juicy subtext of this was Albert was not allowed on the trail- so we had the thrill of acting like criminals. Thomas took Albert, and walked ahead because he says if I see a cop, or even a lesbian in navy blue,  I admit everything. We had the doggie babybjorn (see photo) but Thomas, in yet another example of how his lofty IQ can sometimes veer towards semi stupid, claimed that carrying Albert is also verboten because the dog would still be on the trail .. (Can you see what I have to deal with?) The dog is above the trail! Above is not on! They are different prepositions! 

Anyway we rush down to Muir Woods..Thomas then goes a different way and tells me to lead the Germams to the " top",  and we will reconvene for the picnic.

All went according to plan: 

sandwiches, Albert's gourmet lunch, more Tea; no lesbians in navy blue.

After the picnic, the euphoria hits because we are five miles from a hot tub and some bruschetta. Also there are rumors beer is sold in Stinson. 

So two miles out I decide enough is enough and I take Albert off leash and we run wildly down hill

(See Lech blog entries) . We cheer and jump and Albert stays more or less at my side. I'm telling you, it was extremely pleasant... 

Our German friends were confused by the emotional outburst; but Thomas explained this happens on Wehlen hikes.

Would I do it again? Yes. But Thomas found it a little boring at the end... It's a long hike after all. Once we reached the town, we stopped for refreshments and walked the last mile to the house. 

So here I am at the Exeter inn. Feeling a bit blue actually- watching the Warriors on a crappy TV alone. F swung by, but had to get back... Sigh. Packing tomorrow. I want to grab my kid and go home... 

Soon my pretties xx

Best Idea ever...

Wonderful, wonderful marvelous day. 

15 mile walk followed by bruschetta and a beach. I am considering doing this every week. (Kidding)

Details in the morning. 

And we're off...

Above the reverse route- we are hiking of course towards the beach.. But you get the idea. 

We have packed turkey sandwiches , snickers (David Darling's tip); tea; water and a back pack to carry Albert should the coppers come round and bust us for having a dog on the dipsea. (Can you tell  I am listening to Merle Haggard radio? )

Chef is arriving at the house at four pm with a choice of reds, whites, rosé; and her famous fava bean bruschetta. 

Good bye my tribe!!! Wish me luck in the wild!!

Soon updates...

Happy Mother's Day witches..!

Animal Planet Photos

Rainer showed me this amazing video of the whale coming closer... Im going to try to upload on le blog.

Must sleep now...

Go Big Red.

19: my father's birthday; his death day; the day he met my mother; the street where they lived; Frederick's birthday; his graduation year; the day my grandmother died. All 19.

Andover game tomorrow.