Ye Olde Countrie

Laura is in a minor panic. She leaves Saturday morning for her trip. One minute, she's ready, the next, she'll never be ready on time. Par for the course. She has her wardrobe planned, but not packed. Shoes selected (comfortable for walking long distances, something nice for special occasions). Since she hasn't practiced using her new camera hardly at all, I will sneak the instruction manual into her suitcase. We ordered pounds and euros from our bank, I picked them up yesterday. With apologies to our cousins across the ocean, it looks like monopoly money. (it sure as hell costs more, though. The exchange rate is kicking our ass. Good ole' US dollar.)

Antonia (bless her pea-pickin' heart) has prepared a few sightseeing suggestions for Laura and her sisters and has posted it for everyone's edification. Laura is now officially excited. Outside of London, they are planning to go to Bath and, come hell or high water, Stonehenge. There is a 3 day trip to Paris which is to include Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, and what ever else can be done in 3 days (which probably isn't much).

Laura is collecting addresses for postcards and requests for items to bring back. If she doesn't watch out, all she'll be doing while there is buying tourist trinkets and writing post cards. (although that does sound a lot like the family vacations I've been on in the past). She's asked me at least 5 times what I want her to bring me, so far all I can think of is a beefeater hat. I don't think it'll fit in her carry-on, though. So, I guess she'll have to just surprise me. Having her home safe, sound, and happy will be gift enough.

While there, Laura has promised to go to a pub and drink a beer - for me. She CAN'T STAND beer, but knowing my penchant for it she will have one and I will have to enjoy it vicariously. There is also the promise of having some "traditional" English food. Bubble & squeak, toad in the hole, fish & chips, bangers & mash. I don't know if (some of) these are really food eaten by the indigenous population or a practical joke on visiting Yanks. Food in France is a no-brainer. A chocolate croissant & cafe-au-lait for breakfast; a baguette, cheese and wine for lunch; and something fabulous for dinner. (Laura looked up horse in her phrase book, it wasn't even in there. She's a bit worried that their trying to hide something.)

So, she'll be gone two weeks and I will be......mowing the grass, feeding the cats, playing with the dog, trying to keep the plants alive until she gets back. Last year while Laura was in Kansas City nursing her mother most of her plants, well, didn't to so good. But this year I have the incentive of fresh tomato sandwiches, fresh sliced tomatos with mozzarella and basil and a touch of olive oil, fresh tomato in my salad, bruschetta, (sense a theme here?) so I will assiduously water and weed the garden, the first crop should be ready when Laura gets back. Kris is taking classes during the summer semester, but since classes are only two days a week she'll be living at home - so no bachelor parties for me. (right. these days I have one beer and I fall asleep watching TV.) Since Zack works swings, I never see him until the weekend anyway, and then he's usually going somewhere. I am working on relearning arabic anyway, that'll keep me out of trouble during the evenings.

So, keep your fingers crossed for safe, on-time flights, no missed connections, sunny MILD weather, no snooty french waiters, and a minimum of misunderstandings (have a fag? no thanks, I'm straight - and married).

Cheers & bon voyage.