The Band Plays On....

We said a very sad goodbye to cousins and brothers and babies- (horrible). After such a jolly time bouncing the Connolly girls on our laps by day, and cheering soccer by night, our rhythm was way off when they left. Luckily I got the bright idea to keep Hanna (the other kids had plans-) and thank God I did. We now have this tiny tribe of Hanna and Frederick and Luis; and really I don't mean to brag, but I think they are the best teenagers assembled under one roof ever. 

Here's the drill: the morning they eat muesli and fruit and then engage in tennis or jogging or golf until lunch- and all under a blistering sun. Then after a little pool frolic and perhaps an excursion, they do Math. Not making this up... F is trying to skip a math class by taking a test at the end of summer, so he is up to his eyeballs in it. Thomas still remembers how to do it, in case Frederick gets stuck, but now he has to concentrate; he can't yell the explanation from the shower like he used to. Anyway, Hanna does her own math on Kahn Academy; Luis works on his tan. 

Dinner and night ocean swim (our new thing) is followed by baby oil application (dry skin never takes a holiday) and the voluntary relinquishing of the cell phones. You heard me: Thomas and I trade their phones for a book and they read themselves to sleep. Oh I know what you are thinking: they are probably assembling a small hydrogen bomb and tending to marijuana plants behind our backs. In response, I will I quote a friend who has a lot of children:

"I don't care what they are doing, as long as it takes a long time.."

Children fading under a scorching sun on our tour of Tavira.

Thomas Von Wehlen rallying the troops before the offensive.

Beach hide and Seek while waiting for the chicken piripiri....

The above requires a little explaining...Thomas snuck them into an enormous, (really enormous) abandoned hotel....no lights, empty rooms, half finished walls...bats! everything. I had to stay in the get away car. This photo was taken is as they climbed back over. 

Chico nervously holding a skeptical Brooke. Charlie of course has no fear of any girl, no matter how short. 

Last night with the mighty Connolli

Surviving the German loss...

Will write about it in the morning. Above, us in parking lot post game. Xx

More proof of life...

Evenings we assemble at the Connollys pool (the Quinta do lago hotel) to swim, bathe and feed the children before the triumphant arrival of the babysitter Fatima.  This small but hearty group gets the children's tortellini down in two hours flat. Then the elder Connollys are off to a shower and dinner with us. Yay. 

Smallest Kate sleeps in whatever new dress someone just bought her. Pajamas are so 2015...

Few more...

Below the beautiful mathematics of eight adults (and four teenagers) to two babies. 

Free babysitting abounded. The weather was blessedly cool for about an hour and then sun blazed again, just in time for naps. My favorite picture is of the two Kates in pink. Little kate is beside herself playing with the mini goddesses of Hanna and Kate; and the best part of all is one of them shares her name. 

F missing from photos while on tennis court.. Not to worry we haven't misplaced him. X

Quickie photos...

Not Ansel Adams but it's the best I can do; besides I'm sure Mimi is craving photos of the babies. All is well with the flying circus; with the elder Wehlens happily along for the ride. Last night we celebrated the fourth by eating dinner at the beach and then running naked (ok Thomas) or in undergarments into the dark surf. I'll admit this confused Thomas' parents- swimming in natural bodies of water is not their thing; nor apparently is being half naked in public at night while Kate and I wave pashminas screaming USA!!! 

I guess everyone celebrates freedom from tyranny in his own way. 

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