Beachwalkers

We had a rare moment were the sun made an appearance this afternoon, so when Frankie got out of school I immediately swooped her over to the beach so we could have a nice long walk. Beachwalks have become our mom & daughter special thing. The beach is always so quiet and lovely, it's nice to just sit together and watch the waves. We walk on the rocks, talk about our days, and enjoy the seaside air.

Today, it was clear enough that we could see a ferry chugging across the water. We talked about our upcoming trip to Ireland, and how excting it is that we'll get to ride on one of those giant boats. The fact that our car also gets to come on the boat trip is totally amazing to Frankie. (Me, too, really.)

I really love being this close to the sea. I'm also really happy to be able to share my love of the beach with Frankie. I hope someday when she's older, she'll remember these beachwalks as something special we did together. I know I will.

Curly Sue

This is what the rainy, misty, drizzly English weather does to Frankie's hair....SUPERCURL!

[UPDATE] Here's what Frankie's hair looked like when she got home from school yesterday afternoon:

Belfast, here we come!

This week, I've been busy planning our "Last Hurrah" Ireland trip. We really only have one weekend before we leave the UK that isn't booked up, so we've decided to make the most of it by taking a three-day tour of Belfast and Northern Ireland. It'll be mid-October, right after Erin leaves.

We plan to:

1) search for four-leaf clovers
2) capture as many leprauchans as possible
3) eat lucky charms every day
4) amass wealth via pots of gold
4) drink nothing but Guinness (green-tinted juice for Frankie)

But seriously...

We're planning to take a ferry across the sea to Belfast, spend two nights at a fancy city-center hotel called The Merchant, and take a day trip to The Giant's Causeway. There's lots to see and do in Belfast and the north of Ireland. It should be pretty darn fun. Can't wait!

Wallby's Farm Park

There have been quite a few gloomy, rainy days out here these past two weeks. Still, we're trying not to let the weather deter us from having some family-fun on the weekends. Here are a few shots from Wallby's Farm Park, outside of Carlisle:

I don't remember places like this existing when I was a kid-- I think it would have thoroughly blown my mind to have gone to a gigantic playplace like Wallby's when I was Frankie's age. Wallby's has a giant outdoor playground, a zipline, trampolines, sandboxes, a go kart track, a petting zoo, a corn maze, a barrel train, and a huge indoor play area with massive slides and ball pits. It's pretty amazing, especially if you're five years old.

I really love taking Frankie on outings like this. On weekends, I hate staying cooped up in the house. My favorite thing is to get out of the house, go for a drive, and travel around our corner of the UK. And when the outing includes something that's actually fun for Frankie-- even better.

Home Alone

Matt's back in the US, so it's "just the girls" for a few weeks.

There are a bunch of important meetings that Matt has to go to in the states, so he won't actually be here for the first few days of his sister's UK visit. That's a real bummer, but I know that Erin, Frankie, and I will still have a fantastic time together. I'm really looking forward to Erin's visit. She'll be our last company out here in the UK, and I'm going to take her to all of my favorite spots in the area. It'll sort of be like a 'last hurrah' for me, and a way of saying goodbye to England. Plus, it'll be great to see this part of the country through Erin's eyes. (It'll kind of be like seeing it for the first time all over again.)

A Day in Glasgow

The day of my trip to Glasgow was mighty gloomy, with rain pounding down for most of the morning. Still, I really enjoyed myself. The train ride was a quick two hour trip, and it was really easy to get into the city center from the train station. (Side note: I really love the train system out here. It's a fast, comfortable, and really convenient way to get where you need to go.Wish we had something comparable in the US.)

I started out by heading over to the GOMA (Gallery of Modern Art) which, I'm sad to say, was pretty underwhelming. It was four stories tall, but the galleries themselves held very few pieces or art. The pieces that were there were mostly of the "conceptual" variety, which I really don't like. I mean, I love art galleries and the modern stuff is my favorite. But the really super avant-guard stuff kind of irritates me. Examples: There was one piece in the GOMA that was a LCD screen that scrolled the message "THERE'S BLOOD IN MY URINE." Another was a crumpled paper bag. Another was a wall with a purple light shining on it.

Sorry. Don't. Get. It. It seemed a little contrived and art-studenty for my taste. But, what do I know? Maybe this stuff is genius. All I know is that it doesn't move me.

The GOMA

After the GOMA, I took a double-decker bus tour of the city, and saw all of the major Glasgow highlights. I know they're kind of cheesy and touristy, but I can't help but love the city bus tours. They're a great way to get to know a city, especially if you've never been there before.

Me, riding the tour bus.

Glasgow University

Another gorgeous museum in Glasgow.

After the bus tour, I headed over to an antique store that I read about online. It was an enormous warehouse filled with all kinds of eccentric and amazing things.

For example:

One of the specialties of the shop was vintage art (which I love). I couldn't resist the tiny oil painting of the fancy cat, so it had to come home with me. All of the other paintings were too gigantic and/or expensive to take the train ride home with me, but it was still great fun going through all of the canvases. They were all over the walls, and stacked in huge piles on the floor. I could have spent the enture day here and been completely content.

I treated myself to a lunch of ridiculously spicy vindaloo at a downtown pub, and then headed back to central station for the trip back home. I made it back in time to put Frankie to bed. Not bad, eh?

Solo Traveller

I've decided that instead of being meloncholy about our impending departure from the UK, I'm going to take advantage of the time we have left. To that end, I'm planning to be brave and take a solo trip into Glasgow tomorrow.

Glasgow is a two-hour train ride away from Maryport, and if I leave early enough in the day, I should get a chance to explore the city for six hours or so before heading back home. I've always been curious about Glasgow, and since it's so close I think it'd be a shame to leave the UK without ever seeing it.

It'd be great if I could do the Glasgow trip with Frankie and Matt, but Matt's headed back to the US this weekend for a week-long spree of work-related meetings in Colorado. Since he won't be able to go to Scotland with me, it'll be much easier to explore the city by myself than with Frankie in tow. So, Matt will pick Frankie up from school tomorrow afternoon, and I'll be home before bedtime.

I'm really excited about the trip. I'm planning on doing a little shopping, seeing the Glasgow modern art museum, and visiting the Glasgow Necropolis. Wish me luck!

Frankie's Big Play Date

Yesterday was a first for me in the world of mom-dom. Frankie asked two of her school friends back to our house, and their moms agreed to drop the girls off for a three-hour playdate.

In theory, three hours didn't sound like that long of a time. I figured I'd feed them a snack, bake some cookies, give them some bubbles to play with, and just basically let them run loose in the house. For the most part, that's pretty much how it went. I did learn, though, that three hours is in fact a very, very long time when you're trying to entertain and referee for three strong-willed five year old girls.

In my play-date fantasy, I was hoping to lounge on the couch with a book while the girls entertained themselves. In reality, I was on my feet the whole time, breaking up arguments, consoling the criers, and running back and forth between the girls and the kitchen. The girls played upstairs, downstairs, and outside. I managed to close out the playdate with only one injury (a minor knee-scraping followed by the application of a Hello Kitty band-aid), one tantrum (not Frankie), and one emotional trauma (when asked, I explained why it's not a good idea to stand under a tall tree during a thunderstorm, and now one of the girls is now terrified of trees).

As soon as the last mom came by to pick up her daughter, I was pretty much done for the night. I probably could have fallen asleep on the kitchen floor. I think Frankie had a good time, though.

Ah, the things we do for love.

Year One, Day One

Last week, Frankie started Year One at the Dearham School.

When the day started, she was excited, but a little nervous:

Then, she saw her new grown-up classroom:

And she was a little scared:

But, thankfully, by the end of the day she was all smiles, happy to be back:

This is the middle of her second week back, and things seem to be going pretty well. She's happy when we're leaving for school, and happy when I pick her back up again. The only time we're having any trouble is when I drop her off. Every time, she gets a little teary, and doesn't want to let go of my hand. It's hard to break away and leave her like that, but I know it's what I have to do. I'm pretty certain (based on the report of her teacher, Mr. Thompson) that Frankie bounces back to her usual happy self the moment I'm out of sight. Still, it's tough. Frankie really knows how to push my Guilt Buttons.

Frankie's only complaint about school so far is that she doesn't like her teacher. Not because he's mean, but beacuse he's a man. She keeps saying that she doesn't like having a "boy teacher," which is weird to me beacuse back in Colorado Frankie had a "boy teacher" that she loved: Mr. Brandon.

My guess is that her new teacher, Mr. Thompson, just isn't a huggy, soft, and lovey as her Reception teacher was. Mrs. Barton from Reception was the kind of teacher that you'd want to run over and hug every morning. Mr. Thompson is more about getting work done and doing things properly. (That's his catch phrase: "It's not as important to do things fast as it is to do them properly!")

As for me, I like Year One so far. Mr. Thompson is a bit better at organizing things and communicating with parents via schedules and letters than Frankie's Reception teacher was. (Although, truly I loved Mrs. Barton. She's one of the kindest and most patient teachers that I've ever met.)

I think the change in teaching styles is actually good for Frankie. And she's definitely starting to get into the swing of things. Just yesterday, she told me that she "love, love, loved" Mr. Thompson, and that he had used her homework as an example for the entire class. His praise is hard-earned, and it made her feel really good about herself.

So, it's a little bit of a change for Frankie, but by now she's getting pretty good at adapting. I hope the switch back to her Colorado school goes well. I know that right now she's complaining about her "boy teacher," but what do you want to bet that as soon as we get back to Colorado she'll be tearing up because she misses Mr. Thompson?

Beach Beauties

One of my favorite weekend activities is beachcombing on the Maryport beach. I've recruited Frankie as my helper, and we stroll along the shore looking for interesting finds. Frankie likes to spot rocks that look like things that aren't rocks; For example, "hot dog rock" is the star of her collection. Me, I'm obsessed with finding old bricks with words stamped in them, ala the famous "Tickle Rock."

In a quest to find another brick for my collection, I brought Frankie with me a few days ago. It was a really nice day, and for some reason we were the only people on the beach. I'll never understand why more people don't go out to the shore in Maryport-- It's a lovely place, rocky and desolate. But, hey... I also love having the place to myself, so I'm not going to complain too much.

When Jim and Jo were here, I took them beachcombing and we found a brick with "Wilson" stamped into it. For whatever reason, I left it on the beach and didn't take it home with me. I'd been back a few times since looking for it, but with no luck. This time... Success! I found it again and brought it home for my (heavy and questionably shippable) brick collection.

It was a really enjoyable mom and daughter day. Here are a few snaps of the action.

Homecoming, USA

It's official. We're going to be coming back to the US for good in just a few short weeks.

Our flights are booked, and we'll be home in Colorado again on Monday October 25.

I'm feeling weirdly meloncholy about our impending departure. In many ways, I feel like we were just starting to get the hang of this British thing. We've figured out how to buy our food and household supplies, understand how the trash system works, figured out how to use the Royal Mail, I've learned how to drive, Frankie's made friends at school, the people in Maryport seem to be treating us less like "outsiders." All of the big hurdles are cleared, and just when we're ready to start coasting along... We're done.

Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to come back to the US too. I've missed my friends and family terribly, and am really looking forward to leading a more social existence. Still, I've also really grown to like it over here, and will be sad to take that final plane ride, knowing that I'll probably never be back.

I'm especially going to miss all of the travel and sightseeing we've been doing. All my life, I've wanted to travel and see more of the world, and this trip has given me the chance to live out that dream. When I think back on all of the amazing things I've seen in the last six months, I'm flabbergasted at how lucky we've been to be able to see this part of the world. London, Bath, Bristol, York, Paris, Edinburgh, Newcastle, Manchester... All rare and wonderful experiences, seen in a matter of months.

I'm really going to miss the travel, the exploration, and the newness of it all.

It's the end of the adventure, and that makes me a little sad.

Punctuation Puzzle

Picked these up from the supermarket this week. The punctuation on the package is seriously scrambling my brain.

Why do they want me to read the name of the product like it's an emphatic question?

Tell me... WHY?!

Superfrankie!

Fun with French phrasebooks

As I looking over our Pairs pictures, I was remembering the French phrasebook that we used to make our way through the city. It had all kinds of helpful phrases in it, like:

"Where is the bathroom?"
"I would like one of those."
"Could you help me, please?"

You know...The standard things you might have the occasion to say during the span of a day. Matt and I thought it was hilarious, though, that one of the questions listed in the phrasebook was:

"What are your thoughts on socialism?"

Seriously. If you're ever in a situation where you speak so little French that you need to use a phrasebook, do you really think you're in any position to be asking a question like that? I could barely muster the linguistic prowess to order a glass of water, let alone initiate a complicated political conversation.

If you have to look up the question, how do you expect to understand the answer?

That's bold, French prhasebook. Très bold.

Paris pictures: Round six

Sick of Paris pictures yet? Not me, apparently.

These pictures are from the day that Frankie and I had all to ourselves. We took a leisurely stroll up the river Seine, and ended up at the Jardin des Plantes. I was a bit nervous to navagate the city all by myself with Frankie in tow, but it actually worked out just fine. We had a really lovely day, walking around the neighborhood and taking in all of the sights. Frankie was really well-behaved, and seemed to love doing the tourist thing with her mom.

First, the river walk:

These "love padlocks" were all over the Ponts des Arts bridge. As the tradition goes, lovers affix the lock to the gate and then throw the key into the river below as a sign of their undying love. 

Snapped by Ms. Frankie.

Frankie's trademark pose.

Now, here are some pictures from the Jardin des Plantes. The Jardin des Plantes is a botanical garden in the middle of Paris. Despite the fact that it's literally in the middle of everything, it was a very quiet haven from the traffic and noise of the city. The weather, once again, was incredibly beautiful as we wandered around the gardens for hours.

Scattered throughout the gardens were different branches of the Natural History museum. There was also a small zoo that we had a great time exploring.

More pigeons = more pigeon chasing.

Having a think about the flamingoes.

The Smirking Orangutan. (Weirdly similar to the above picture, don't you think?)

There was a bunch of giant statues at the zoo that kids were just dying to crawl all over. I suspect Frankie might have like sitting on these massive statues better than seeeing the live animals.

How many families do you think have a picture exactly like this, but featuring their own child?

Outside of the zoo was a really interesting hedge maze. The maze itself wound its way up to a gazebo with a stunning view of the city. I was a little disappointed that the hedge maze was so easy to conquer, but then Frankie realized that the real maze was actually within the hedges themselves. If you were small enough, you could actually go inside the hedges at certain points of entry and crawl around the hidden maze underneath the branches. It made me a little nervous not to be able to see Frankie as she made her way through the hidden passages, but as long as I looked carefully for movement at the top of the hedges I could tell where she was. Besides, how could I say no? Hidden passages are the coolest. I only wish I was small enough to do it myself.

The only problem of the day was a slight knee-skinning incident. She bounced back like a champ, though.