Day #4a

I think I have to break this into a couple of posts - too many photos.
Highlights:

• Slept late (because I couldn't sleep last night, missing my kids)

• Ventured out to find "The Lanes" (cool shopping area, actually tiny little brick "streets"/paths running through many interesting and kooky shops - antiques, fine crafts, galleries, crap, jewelry, an entire store devoted to "pink," and an undergarment store called "Bravissimo" (read full title on sign carefully)

• Ate lunch there at a classy little Italian joint (not a spaghetti place - though, I love a spaghetti place) and was flirted at by the smooth Italian man taking my order (too short...)

• Accidentally found the "Royal Pavilion" for Heaven's sake! Palace that George IV built in the 1700s (before he was actually King) Took the tour, which was awesome - in that the place was incredibly ornate and over-the-top, and that I got to do the tour by myself with a hand-held audio guide! It has a 30 foot tall chandelier that weighs 1 ton, and is held in the claws of a huge dragon, and a domed ceiling covered in gold-guilded real cockle shells. Oh my. It would be an interesting thing to look at - I couldn't take photos inside. royalpavilion@brighton-hove.gov.uk

• Wandered down to the other pier, the "Brighton Pier" just to say I did. Arcades, casinos, etc. don't interest me much, but the roller coaster was running, as was the carousel. Also, I enjoyed seeing a disco ball weather vane.

• Walked back by way of the beach, which is not made of sand, but rocks! Very tiring walking, but still great.

• Met up with the bald man and ate our favorite room service meal - fruit platter, local cheese plate, coke (for me) and warm chocolate brownie with chocolate sauce and ice cream. AAAHHHHHHH..............................

I'll be a tiny bit sad to leave this place tomorrow. I'm just beginning to feel like a local. (although I'm concentrating on speaking in my regular middle United States accent, because otherwise, I accidentally slip into faux-British, and I don't want any real Brits to hear that!

By the way, President-Elect Obama is everywhere here! I think the rest of the world might even be more excited than we are (well, or most of us are).

Day #3

Saw sun rise over English Channel from my bed, through the French doors that lead out to my balcony. We're in an 1868 hotel called the Grand, in Brighton. It is indeed grand. There is serious history in this hotel too. It was bombed in 1983 by the IRA while Margaret Thatcher was staying here. Crazy.

There is also a bizarre skeleton of what used to be an amazing pier here. It was built in the late 1800s as just a big pier to walk on. Then a big, majestic theater was built on it - maybe in the 20s. Anyway, it all fell into disrepair, so much that the middle of the bridge part fell into the ocean about 7 years ago (I think.) THEN...........some people were so frustrated at the city's unfulfilled promises to fix it all up again and restore the theater, that they burned the thing - twice. Holy cow! This thing is HUGE. So creepy to see the ruins, and so sad. It freaked me out to get a little bit close to it.

But enough of all this hideous news of bombings and arson. I had a wonderful day exploring, walking around, hearing the ocean and relaxing. After work was over for my man, we went out to a nice dinner at a Thai place called, "The King and I!" By the way the golden kitty continually waves its paw forward and back.

This is now (for 2 weeks) a travel blog

I am traveling again! I can't believe I've gotten to take so many trips so close together, but I have, and I am. Right now, I'm in England, and soon I will go to Spain. I'm with the bald man. The kiddos and dogs are being well cared for at home. Bald man is working, and I am enjoying myself - and him! I miss my babies, but am sure that this will be a good growing experience for all of us.

So........Day #1

These are my new shoes standing on the floor of the hotel in London. All we did all day was fly. Stayed in a lovely Hilton attached to the airport, very modern.

Day #2
Had a lovely breakfast in the hotel, including smoked salmon, yummy cheese, grilled whole tomatoes, sauteed mushrooms and many other taste treats. I love to eat what I don't normally have at home! We drove through the beautiful countryside in the rain, on the left side of the road to our first stop.















Yep. It's amazing. I've written to some already that it was humbling, awesome, inspiring, breathtaking.

I laid my a## on the line for Obama

While canvassing on election day, going to houses who had already confirmed that they were voting for Obama, I had a bit of an accident. I wasn't thinking about dogs being on porches. I was looking at my papers, wearing sunglasses, just happily marching right up onto someone's porch. I think all but about 2 of the families whose homes we went to were black families. As you probably know from my photos, I am a white woman. These people were not obviously wealthy of money. They were absolutely kind and welcoming. "Yes, they had already voted" (before 9:00 a.m.,) or "yes, they had their plan to vote today and a ride to the polling place," and "Thank you for coming, and it's fine if more people come after you."

At this particular house, one of my very first ones, as I began to knock on the door, I realized that sitting one foot away, right in front of me, was a large Boxer. (In my defense, he was the same brownish-grayish color of the house.)

So, I had my "Oh, crap!" moment in my mind. The dog was silent; I was silent. I slowly stepped backwards a few steps, turned to hobble down the uneven steps, only to NOT escape. As I recall, he gave one, brief "Are you crazy, lady, for just marching up onto my porch?" barkish noise, and one good pinch. I kept walking. OH MY GOSH, DID THAT HURT! But as the wife of a protection dog trainer, I know that he was just doing his job. If he really wanted me, he could have torn me to bits.

I went to the porch of the next door neighbor, where my fellow (62-year-old white guy) canvasser was, asked the lady if my shorts were in-tact, and they were. So, I continued my walk for about 4 hours with a very sore hiney. I did come home later, so thrilled about the experience of knocking doors, having had the most gracious and sincere welcome I've ever had in my fifteen years living in my town - truly, being inspired by the people I met and the cause we all felt so strongly about, all the time having bloody fang marks in my right cheek.

It's okay, and I'm proud to have done it. I wish I had given more time to the campaign. And by the way, I know it's over, but "YES, WE DID!" May this sign of unity in the nation and in the world be real and lasting for my girls and their kids, and for me! And, now we must continue to think, "Yes, we are."

photos are a must

There's nothing like sparkly, long eyelashes - or feather eyelashes, for that matter! These are my lovely Glinda and Elphaba.............. (we did try to make Cake green, but when it stings your eyes and you cry, then you have a green face with skin-colored lines)
I'm great at fake sewing and fake altering of 1950s prom dresses!

Still Living/Still Sad

You know, I still miss my friend - every single day.

Tomorrow will mark 4 months.
Just tonight, I found myself on the phone, explaining what happened and how she died, again. A woman had called me about something else; someone who barely knows me, and who had barely, barely known Sarah. She said that she was so sorry for my loss, and for everyone's loss, and that she thought that Sarah had been doing better. (with the cancer)

She WAS doing better! I still can't imagine what kind of "plan" would include taking her away from her babies, and from so many of us who loved her so much.

I feel very alone at times, when she's the obvious person (in my mind) for a situation, and she's just not here. I need her opinion, her company, her inspiration - artistic and otherwise, her listening ear, her strength. I just want to be having fun with her again. I truly wish I could be brave enough to be open to communicating with her, if she's still hanging around, but somehow, I just can't.

I'm doing my best to live, especially, in ways that would make Sarah proud. I just still miss her.

Cleaning House

Literally and figuratively.
I've been on a cleaning rampage!
I like to think that I'm not a "saver," but I am. I do actually get rid of lots of stuff on a regular basis. I have garage sales (because I like to play store), I take things to the Goodwill, I throw things away, I pass things along to those who might like them....but I do also save. I have now learned the lesson that things can be thrown away. If you have perfectly good, hardly worn underwear in your drawer, like 12 pairs, that are too small, they can be thrown away. My butt has been too big for those for too long. Out they go! If you have notebooks full of blank paper that are literally from grad school in 1993, guess what! They can be thrown away!

I've been trying, for a long time, to get down to the bare bones of my life, and I think I'm in the middle of trying to do it by way of my house. "Simplify" is a good title for this life chapter, I think. Contrary to what some might believe (by their observances of my messy house,) I don't like a mess. I'm actually a little bit on the Obsessive Compulsive side. I like things to have homes; comfortable, neat, beautiful homes. Even things like toothbrushes should have a lovely place to "live."

Anyway, I'm hosing it all out! I can't do a big sweeping gesture, because I might accidentally throw away a precious item. I have to go through things, piece by piece. I've conquered a horrifying basement "playroom" - now people can play in it - I've finished off my garage, complete with mopping the floor with soap and washing walls, and I've been victorious over my bedroom, which was a dumping ground before.

I tell you all of this because I think it is more than just cleaning. I'm trying to get to something. It's a real journey sometimes, and I don't know what I'm trying to get to, but I'm getting somewhere. I wonder if I'm trying to just "get done" with something? or am I doing the very textbook "trying to gain control?" I'd rather look at it more symbolically, but I can't put my finger on the symbols yet.

If I end up figuring out something profound, I'll let you all know. Otherwise, I'll just have a tidier, cleaner house.