Where in the World Will You Vote?

Today, a very special message from my good friend Gwyneth Paltrow. I mean, obviously we know each other and we're good friends, since all Americans in London know each other. We're both Americans in London! We both have children! We have so much in common! We meet all the time for lattes in North London. She said the fact that I live South of the River doesn't bother her. That's why I love Gwyneth. She's so open minded. 

In any case, I got sent this video from Democrats Abroad almost two months ago, but I'm just getting around to posting it now only because I finally sent out my absentee ballot request yesterday. Since I'll be voting Democratic in Cook County, Illinois, I expect they'll be sending me back two ballots, just to make sure that Obama gets elected. Just like they did for John F. Kennedy in 1964.

If you are an American living abroad and you happen to be reading this blog, please remember to request an absentee ballot for yourself. The website www.votefromabroad.org couldn't make it easier to get an absentee ballot. 

I don't care if you're a Democrat or a Republican (I happen to love a lot of Republicans, I'm just not one of them), just make sure that you vote.

Thanks, Gwyneth, for your contribution to MarathonMum today. See you next week for a soy milk latte.

The Education of Presidential Candidates

I got sent this e-mail by three different people, so I thought I might as well post it for all the world to see...

Dear Friends,
we all know that knowledge is power and power is strength.


Let's look at the educational background of the candidates and see what they bring to the job:

Obama:
Occidental College - Two years.
Columbia University - B.A. political science with a specialization in international relations.
Harvard - Juris Doctor (J.D.) Magna Cum Laude

Biden:
University of Delaware - B.A. in history and B.A. in political science.
Syracuse University College of Law - Juris Doctor (J.D.)

vs.

McCain:
United States Naval Academy - Class rank 894 out of 899

Palin:
Hawaii Pacific University - 1 semester
North Idaho College - 2 semesters - general study
University of Idaho - 2 semesters - journalism
Matanuska-Susitna College - 1 semester
University of Idaho - 3 semesters - B.A. in journalism

Now, which team are you going to hire to lead the most influential nation in the world?

Is it the end of the world as we know it?

The big topic at the breakfast table this morning, following reports on Radio 4 dubbing it Big Bang Day, was the possibility that the world as we know it will end today when scientists in Switzerland attempt to recreate the moments after the Big Bang.

I explained that some people thought that it was possible that doing so would mean that the world would come to an end. I kept assuring them that I didn't think that would happen, but it was too late. They were convinced it was ALL OVER.

Panic and laughter then ensued, and believe me, it's difficult to maintain both at the same time.

Thing Two ran down to the kitchen as I was making their lunches. "I just want to tell you something before the world explodes," he said. "Goodbye. I love you."

He then returned upstairs so he and his brother could continue their panicked screaming and laughter.

Thing One then popped his head downstairs. "Hey, Mom. Do you think I should prepare my last will and testament?"

Again, I assured him that while some people thought that the experiment would go awry, I, along with millions of scientists thought it would be fine.

However, as I was curious as to who would get what in his will-- despite the fact that we would all be dead in his scenario-- I asked him what he had to leave behind. Thing Two would get his Nintendo DS, which I thought was very sweet. I would get all of his stuffed friends. His father would get the Playstation. I then asked what would become of Blanket, which he still (shhh!) can't sleep without. "Oh, mom. Blanket is coming with me!"

While getting dressed, Thing Two said to me, "Mom, I want a smart shirt today. I want to look nice for the last day in the history of the world." And indeed he did, with his smart button down shirt and khakis.

We arrived at school, having managed to not do the hula, and to remember to wear our shoes, when I turned to the boys and said, "Have the best LAST day of school ever!"

I think they will be disappointed to learn that all went well in Switzerland.

Why Getting Ready for School Takes So Long, Part Two

A Play in One Scene

Characters: Thing One (age 8), Thing Two (age 5) and Mother (still stylish and funny and STILL in her 30s)

Location: Front hall of a house in London

Time: 8:45 a.m., in the last moments of preparation before school

Mother: OK? Everybody ready?

Thing One & Two: Yes

Mother: Did you remember your P.E. kits?

Thing One & Two: Yes

Mother: Do you have your lunches?

Thing One & Two: Yes

Mother: Do you have you backpacks?

Thing One & Two: Yes

Mother: Are your jackets on?

Thing One & Two: Yes

Mother: OK! Let's go. (She opens the door and they all start to walk out)

Thing Two: Wait! Hold on! I don't have my shoes on!!

-Fin-

Why Getting Ready for School Takes So Long

A Play in One Scene

Characters: Thing One (age 8), Thing Two (age 5), Mother (stylish, funny and STILL in her 30s, though not for long)

Location: A boy's bedroom in a London house

Time: 8:30 a.m.

Thing Two, who insisted on wearing a smart shirt for the second day of school, needs help with all of the buttons on his new Ralph Lauren shirt, so his mother is doing the heavy lifting. She leaves Thing One to do his own dressing for school, but then notices that he's doing something else.

Mother: Thing One, what are you doing?

Thing One: (who only has his underpants on, and is singing AND dancing) I'm doing the hula, of course!

Mother: Of course! What else would you be doing at this time of day?

Thing Two, now dressed, joins his older brother doing the hula. Scene ends with mother leaving the room, presumably to find some school clothes for Thing One.

-END-

Oddest Book Title Prize Announced

The Bookseller, the trade magazine for publishers, announced the winner of its Diagram of Diagrams prize for the oddest book title in the past 30 years. The winner is (drumroll, please) "Greek Rural Postmen and their Cancellation Numbers."

"Green Rural Postman" just pipped to the post, "People Who Don't Know They're Dead: How They Attach Themselves to Unsuspecting Bystanders and What to do About it" (sounds like a page turner). "How to Avoid Huge Ships" also was in the running for the top prize.

This story was broadcast on Radio 4 this morning, and just made me laugh out loud. The "winner" of the award, who Radio 4 tracked down, said the "Greek Rural Postmen" was meant to be a guide for philatelists as it was published by the Greek Hellenic Society of Great Britain. Hearing that makes the title seem less funny, especially since the author sounded like this very nice old man who probably worked very hard on the book.

If you're looking for a laugh, see the photos of the other finalists here

Random Thoughts Upon Return of a Marathon Trip

Three days after returning home from our marathon trip to the U.S., I am now finally unpacking. Or, should I say, I've started unpacking but now I'm procrastinating while I post this entry. Statistics, photographs and even video will be coming soon, but in the meantime, here's some random thoughts about our trip:

• Our trip can easily be charted by the plastic bags in our luggage. We've got bags from Safeway (supermarket in Lake Tahoe, California), Kennywood (amusement park in Pittsburgh), the Crayola Factory (Easton, Pa.), Target (ubiquitous American chain, though we went to the one in Warrington, Pa.), Best Buy (where we bought our Flip Video in New Jersey), the Gap (in Doylestown, Pa., where we stocked up on school clothes) and Pirate's Cove, N.C., (where we bought T-Shirts at Hurricane Mo's). Just to make things interesting, I still have a few random plastic bags in there from previous trips: one from Pret a Manger, the British sandwich chain, and another from Difendi La Natura from Italy.

• Anecdotally, it seems as though Obama might have the edge: I saw about 25 "Obama for President" lawn signs during our four weeks in the U.S., to only one I saw for John McCain. However, as a friend pointed out, we literally flew over Fly-Over-Territory (everything between the East and West coasts), so it's possible that there's many more signs for the presumptive Republican nominee there.

• British Airways is still our favourite airline to fly when we have to go back to the U.S. Southwest is our favourite domestic carrier, even WITH the two-and-a-half hour delay we had to endure in Pittsburgh.

• Friends are friends, no matter how long it's been since you've seen them, and old habits die hard. I was sitting with my university roommate and her husband, and it seemed like no time had elapsed since the time I was living with her and he was her boyfriend who visited. The only difference was the six children sleeping upstairs who belonged to us.

• The flaws in your house are much more apparent when you return from a month away. I really need to get the holes fixed in our front hallway and bathroom. We REALLY need to paint the hallway-- how did so many fingerprints get up there?

• I very much enjoyed seeing the Olympics in two different countries. In the U.S., I could partake in all of my jingoistic tendencies, and in the U.K., I could take pride in Team GB's success in sports you only think about during the Olympics (sailing, modern pentathalon, cycling, canoeing).

• Michael Phelps is a God, and I only fell in love with him more when he said during an interview, "I couldn't have done it without my Mom." I have already started making Thing One and Thing Two practice that sentence for when they take home Olympic Gold. They don't need to bring home eight to make me proud. Just one would do.

• Generally speaking, Americans really have no mobile phone etiquette whatsoever. No, I really didn't need to overhear an entire conversation in Target about Lisa's problems with her in-laws. Thanks, whoever you were.

• The best thing about returning home is being able to sink the 1/4 inch deeper into your own sofa.

Statistics, pictures and video will be posted soon. Now back to unpacking.

Been there. Done That. Got the T-shirt.

Yesterday was a big(ish) day in the history of MarathonMum. For the first time in almost three years, I finished a 10k race!

This is huge for me, especially since in November 2006 my doctor told me I would never run again, due to my psoriatic arthritis. Frankly, I took the news that I wouldn't be able to run harder than the diagnosis. But even getting to the diagnosis was a long road: it took several doctors, lots of tests, an MRI and finally a Google search done by me to ascertain what was wrong with my foot. 

Needless to say, I was a basketcase leading up to the race. I kept trying to talk myself out of going, trying to find a variety of excuses as to why I wasn't free on race day. It was much like the scene in the seminal film, "Animal House" where he's got an angel on one shoulder telling him one thing, and a devil on the other, telling him the opposite. 

I didn't tell many people about the race, in case I chickened out. But in the end, I went because I wanted to prove that I could do it, but also for the merchandise. During a run with my friend Sam earlier in the week I admitted, "I really don't want to do this race. But I really, REALLY want the T-shirt." 

I nearly had a nervous breakdown while making my way over to the park and then while waiting for the race to start. Eventually I calmed myself down by doing three things: first, reminding myself that this race would be 20 miles shorter than the marathon, and surely my body would remember how to do it; second, by realizing that my first 10k was more than 25 years ago, so surely if a 12-year-old me could do a 10k, the 39-year-old me could do it too; and finally, the tried-and-true method of looking for people who looked as though they hadn't done as much training as perhaps was necessary (read into that whatever you want). 

The race was started by George Clooney's ex-girlfriend Lisa Snowden, so that distracted me too, because I kept thinking, "Sure, she's pretty, but is she as FUNNY as my friend Quigs? Surely not." 

My race strategy was simple: "Slow and steady wins the race." So while I was several thousand people away from winning, I didn't stop once, which enabled me to pass several people who would keep stopping to walk. When I got to the 8K mark, I thought, "2k left! The boys can do this!" Once I got near the finish line, I thought I was going to die, or at least throw up at the finish line, but I did neither. 

In the end, I got my t-shirt. It's enormous-- almost as big as the grin on my face when I finished.

Sex Education

Thing One, just finishing out Year 3 (and yes, my American friends, we are STILL. IN. SCHOOL), told us during dinner on Sunday night, "This week we're going to learn about something, but I'm too embarrassed to say what it is." But having already read his homework, I knew that they were going to be talking about.... (drum roll, please)

Sex Education!

This morning, having heard through the mom's grapevine that they all watched The Movie yesterday, I asked him, "How was sex ed yesterday?"

"It was really good," he told me. "We learned all about the penis and the Virginia!"

(When I stopped laughing a good two minutes later, I told him that I wouldn't have a problem calling it the Virginia, even if it was the wrong name.)

Happy Independence Day (Whatever that is)

We were having our family "What's on Schedule This Week" on Sunday-- and believe me, since it's the end of term, there was a lot-- when our discussion turned toward Friday.

"Do you know what Friday is?" I asked Thing One and Thing Two. "I'll give you a hint: the date is July 4th."

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" said Thing One excitedly. "I know this answer! It's on the tip of my tongue."

Thing Two had no answer. He waited patiently for his older brother to come up with it.

"Is it the day that the Civil War ended?" he asked. (We've been talking about the American Civil War recently. Don't ask me why. It's not as if it came up during school.)

When I told him no, it wasn't that, he had a few more guesses, none that were even close.

I finally put him out of his misery and told him that it was the day that the U.S. decided it wanted to be independent of England. This discussion is always tricky, because it leads to the inevitable question of why we live here in London if Americans want to be independent of England.

So how did we celebrate Independence Day yesterday? I'm sorry to say, not at all. I completely forgot to mention it to them. But don't tell U.S. Immigration: they might take away their American passports if they found out we forgot to celebrate July 4th.

A Guided Tour of Lego Police Station

Thanks to his generous aunts and uncles in the United States, Thing Two was able to fulfill his long-held dream (OK, a dream for about a month) of getting into Lego law enforcement.

Here, for the enjoyment of those aunts and uncles, as well as for any Lego enthusiasts out there, is his guided tour. (The tour was filmed by Thing One, who you can also spy in the video.)

OK. I've tried to upload the video six times (here and at YouTube) without success. I may be tenacious, but I also know when to cut my losses and say it's not going to work. Instead, here's a picture of the boys at the aforementioned Lego station. In case you were wondering, yes, Thing One is doing the classic technique of holding out the camera to take a picture of him and his brother.

Believe me, the video is hilarious. You'll just have to imagine it.

Newsround-mania

It all started last Thursday, when the teacher who I help run Film Club with said to me, "Is your hairdresser open tomorrow?"

Completely flummoxed by the question, I didn't know what to say. After all, I just had my hair cut, and I even recently purchased a HAIR STRAIGHTENER, which, believe me, was the source of much mirth and merriment in the house. In any case, my friend went on to explain that BBC's Newsround would be visiting our school Friday. 

The boys were beyond excited. You would have thought that Christmas arrived early. As anyone Of A Certain Age (read 8-14) in the U.K. knows, Newsround is the children's BBC news program broadcast every day. 

We thought about what we would say. We thought about what we would wear. I'd like to say that I brushed the boy's hair in anticipation, but we only do that twice a year on school picture day (whether they need it or not).

We got to our school's ICT suite at the appointed time and met Helen, the reporter, and Ushma, the camerawoman. They were incredibly nice, and seemed genuinely chuffed that the children were so excited to meet them. As a journalist, I have to say they were incredibly skilled in making sure that all the children got a chance to be on camera, and also had a really good manner with them all, while also getting the story done.

All in all, they spent more than an hour and a half at the school, filming interviews, reaction shots and introductions. Helen and Ushma carefully explained that even though they were there a long time, it wouldn't all be on newsround. As it was, the report lasted about a minute long (which in TV time, isn't half-bad.)

I didn't have anything to do with who they picked to talk to, but Thing One was interviewed and they used his response (see below). They also did a pretty cute shot of kids reacting to the movie, which included Thing Two, but they ended up not using that. During the shoot, I was busy trying to stay out of the way, while also fetching cold glasses of water and opening and shutting the blinds on demand. (As I actually used my hair straightener that day, I was somewhat disappointed that I didn't get interviewed. But it's all about the kids. Really.)

When the big day came, we....missed it. We only found out that it was broadcast Tuesday morning, when a boy from the school walked up to Thing One and said, "I saw you on telly this morning." His mother later told me she thought her son was kidding when he saw his schoolmates on TV. "You know how it is," she said. "You're trying to get them ready and out the door. I didn't actually believe him."

Since we don't watch TV on school days (that's right. I am a Mean Mother) I had no idea that Newsround is on several times a day. What do we know? We watch the news reports on the Interweb. In any case, my friend the computer whiz was able to download the video from yesterday. It'll be up on this site until the BBC lawyers find me. 

Needless to say, we were thrilled with our one minute of fame. 

Film Club Stars

Young Love (or a story that will make you say, "Ahh.")

Thing Two's life is a constant pursuit to keep up with Thing One. So when Thing One's thoughts turned to love recently, so did Thing Two's. When Thing Two's friend Esme gave him a magnetic dinosaur for his birthday, his most favourite present of the day, that was nothing short of a sign to him that they were meant to be together forever. 

On Sunday, we were discussing our upcoming sojourn to the U.S., when talk turned to Kennywood. For the uninitiated, Kennywod is a fantastic amusement park in Pittsburgh. To our globe-hopping children, Kennywood is in the top three of the most wonderful places on Earth, with Legoland U.K. and Disneyland Paris taking the other two spots.

"You know, on the day Dad and I got married, we went to Kennywood in the morning, rode all of the roller coasters, and then went to get ready for the wedding," I told them.

The boys pondered this (with a great deal of pride, I'd like to think). Thing Two then pipes up, "You know, when I get married, I'm going to take my Esme to Kennywood so WE can ride the roller coasters."

"That's such a good idea," I said. "But does Esme know how you feel about her?"

Misunderstanding the question, Thing Two responded, "Esme makes me feel that when I look at her, it makes me happy."

That's a sentiment that's good enough for a greeting card.

The Past Month: An Update

We've been busy, as per usual. But lots of things have happened that I wanted to write about, but haven't had a chance to yet. So to whet your appetites (or at least keep track for myself), here are some of the things I might get a chance to write about soon:

• We are proudly Car Free, and have been for more than a month. Long live Gazerbeam (that's what we called the old car). The sale couldn't have come at a better time, with oil inching toward $150 per barrel. But truth be told, we haven't missed him much, and we haven't neede to use the car club we joined yet.

• We got to see Bruce Springsteen in London! Utterly phenomenal, even (a) if the sound system could have used some work; and (b) we realized how old we were by looking at the OTHER people attending the concert. Bruce even played my most favourite song of all time, "Born to Run." (See the complete set list here.) Many thanks to our friend Zim, who alerted Mr. MarathonMum to the concert when tickets went on sale in December, as he knew of my previous disappointment.

• We had one of our nicest family holidays ever, in the Lake District. It had something for everyone: Beatrix Potter, boats, lakes, an Arts & Crafts house, mini-golf and LOTS of hikes. Fantastic. See picture above, of the boys at the Arts & Crafts house (Blackwell) and Lake Windermere behind them. We will return for sure.

This is what I"ve been doing all day

There's any number of things I had to do today, but auntly duty called. Proving that ANYONE can have a blog, I present to you Flat Stanley Around the World.

http://stanleyaroundtheworld.blogspot.com

A (Pretty Amazing) Live Commercial.

This is so cool! Or another entry from Honda for the Advertising Hall of Fame. Last night, on British TV, they had a LIVE parachute jump for a Honda commercial. They didn't know ahead of time if it was going to work or not. But, if the weather was too bad, they did have the dress rehearsal taped so they could use it if they had to. We missed it because we were on a train, making our way back from Legoland. But in the age of the Interweb, you don't have to miss anything through the glory that is YouTube.

Watch it. Then go buy a Honda. Or not.

File Under "Dedicated to the Job"

A newspaper photographer in Utah got speared by a javelin while covering a high school track meet. Not only did he take pictures of his own injury, which required 13 stitches, (click on this link; it's slightly too gross for a family blog like this one) but he went back later and finished the job.

Ryan McGeeney, the photographer who's an intern at the paper, said, "It was pretty embarrassing. I just felt like a jackass. I wasn't scared. You can tell right away when you're hurt really bad. I just knew I wasn't really injured."

McGeeney, who's studying for a master's in journalism, is a former U.S. Marine who served in Afghanistan. When asked why he took a picture of his own injury, he said, "It just kind of seemed like the thing to do. It's one of those things where, if I didn't take pictures of it, I'd wish I had. Also, if I didn't, it would probably be my editor's first question when I got back."

I am impressed. Give that man a job.

Happy Fifth Birthday Thing Two

Thing Two is now five. When asked what this means, he says, "I'll use my soft voice and not yell. And I'll stop sucking my fingers!" We'll see about that.

Here are some of the things I love most about Thing Two as he reaches his fifth birthday:
1. The fact that he can't actually walk down the stairs, and can only jump, loudly, from step to step.
2. How he still loves a cuddle to start his day, and whenever we read a book together.
3. How he loves his big brother, and wants to do anything that he does. This also means that while he professes a love of "Dr. Who" he actually spends most of the episode out of the room, only occasionally checking to see if it's scary, and it usually is for him.
4. His continued love of movies, earning him the moniker of Mr. Move.
5. His optimism and jolly nature.

6. How he loves to help me make yummy things (cookies, cakes, you name it) and crucially, he's a good helper.

7. How he won't be swayed by other people's opinions. "It's my decision," he's said on more than one occasion.

8. How he still loves to hold my hand when we're walking.

9. His absolute and unshaken belief that he is a Superhero. When asked recently why he stopped doing yoga (a story for another day) he said, with all sincerity, "It took away my superpowers."

Happy Birthday, Thing Two. May you have many more.

Fantastic Mr. Fox Saved!

Mr. Fox, (isn't he a cutie?), held by the nice man from the RSPCA with the big leather gloves.

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well on Wednesday night, as I was so worried that the fox would infiltrate the house, get into the cupboard and drink all of our cider (see "Fantastic Mr. Fox" by Roald Dahl, illustrations by Quentin Blake). But I am not a farmer. I am a city dweller. In fact, I thought more than once, isn't this why we moved to the city? So we wouldn't have to worry about wild animals (other than those at the pub after big football matches)?

I woke up at 6 a.m. and immediately went outside to check the window well to see if the fox was still there. He wasn't! Problem solved!! I thought. Our most favourite way to deal with difficult things: ignore them, and they solve themselves. But alas, about 30 minutes later I heard the barking again, so I knew he was still there.

Thing One and Thing Two woke up, and went outside to see him. But he kept disapperaring. We thought he was moving between our window well and our neighbours (there's a small drainage hole between the two properties), but at one point the boys were at her house, and I was at our house, and we didn't see Mr. Fox. Where did he go? A little while later, he emerged from his hiding place and the boys could use one of the dining room windows to see him running around in the window well. It was like the zoo! But in my house.

Once I got to school, I immediately saw two friends who I knew could help. They are the type of people who are incredibly capable and always know where to go and what to do. "Do I call pest control at the council?" I asked them. "Call the RSPCA. They'll be able to help you."

I returned home, armed with information. But before I could call the RSPCA, Friend No. 1 had stopped by to see the fox for herself. As it turns out, Mr. Fox was a big attraction. I could have charged admission. Of the five friends who knew about Mr. Fox, three of them came by to visit. Many also shared their fox stories. Everyone in London, it seems has a fox story. Friend No. 2 went up the hill to the butchers to get Mr. Fox something to eat. The RSPCA recommended water, chicken carcasses, boiled potatoes and green vegetables. I thought I could have just put one of our garbage bags out there and let him go to town, but then I thought of the mess I'd have to clean up later, so we gave him water and some kidneys (who doesn't like offal?).

Gavin, the man from RSPCA with big, thick leather gloves, arrived within an hour of having called them. By this time, Mr. Fox had disappeared again. I think he was suffering from performance anxiety because of all of the attention. But now I knew where he was disappearing to: there was a little hole under our window that he was using as his new home.

Gavin coaxed him out, and guessed he was about seven weeks old. This was bad news for Mr. Fox, because foxes don't get weaned until eight weeks. So Mr. Fox really needed to find his mother. Luckily, he was in pretty good shape: he didn't break anything in the fall down the window well. His nose was a bit raw from trying to climb up the window well for the past two days. Gavin took him back to the RSPCA van to clean him up and get a better look at him.

Upon returning, Gavin said the best thing for Mr. Fox would be to let him loose in the wild (read: our back garden) and hope that he can find his mother in the neighbourhood. The RSPCA does have a fox sanctuary in Kent that they do take rescued foxes to, but he said Mr. Fox should be OK. We let him have a good run around the garden [see below] and he was gone. I'm pretty sure he made his way under our fence into the wilds of Greenwich. I do hear barking in the back occasionally, but I'm pretty sure it's from other gardens.

So Mr. Fox was saved, and now he is gone. Good luck Mr. Fox! And look out for Boggis, Bunce and Bean!

Run, Mr. Fox! Be free, Mr. Fox! It was good knowing you, Mr. Fox.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

This story begins two nights ago, when Manchester United was beating Barcelona. As we live near a pub (who in London doesn't?) nights like this can get somewhat crazy and loud, so when I heard some incessant barking, I didn't give it much thought. I chalked it up to a puppy being left outside the pub. I heard the barking again in the morning. This time, I looked around the front garden to see if I could find the dog, but no luck. I forgot about the barking again.

Last night, while watching Kevin being voted off the British "Apprentice," I heard Thing One upstairs, and asked him if he wanted to come down for a bonus hug and cuddle. As he joined me on the sofa, he turned to me and said, "Mom? What's that barking?"

"I know. I know," he said. "I heard it first last night. I had a look around for the dog, but I couldn't find anything."

"He sounds like he's in trouble," Thing One said.

"Well, there's really nothing we can do about it," I said. "I don't know where he is. OK. It's time for bed."

A few minutes later, I heard a "whoosh"-- a telltale sign of a written message from above. (Thing One occasionally sends down letters to us when he really should be in bed sleeping."

The letter, complete with spelling mistakes, said:

"Dear Mom

I cant bare listning too the poor dog. I say we look for it because in the morning the bilders will be here. PLEASE!

Love Thing One"

How could I turn that down? We put on our wellies and went out to the front garden to investigate. The barking got fainter the farther away we got from the house, so I looked down the window well, remembering the time that our neighbour's cat accidentally fell down there. I couldn't see anything, so Thing One ran upstairs to get his torch [flashlight]. We shone it down, and there looking back up at us was a tiny, baby fox. 

Thing One, who always looks on the bright side of life [see below], said to me, "Well, that's good news and bad news. The good news is at least the fox isn't going through our garbage! But the bad news is how do we help the poor fox?"

Thinking that there wasn't much we could do at 10 p.m., I told Thing One that we'd have to leave it until the morning and then I could call someone who would be able to come and help the fox. Thing One returned to bed.

Now we await two things:

1. An opportunity to take Mr. Fox's picture

2. The arrival of the RSPCA, who will rescue the fox for me.

Watch this space.

We Can Call This Post, "Who Says Golf Isn't a Contact Sport" or "How Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining"

Finally, finally, finally it was warm enough after school to play outside in the garden. Thing One and his friend were playing around before the Cub Scouts had their annual St. George's Day Parade, as both were asked to fill the special role of flag bearers at the event. Unfortunately for Thing Two, the boys wanted to do their own thing and not include any siblings, as per tradition, so he and I were upstairs reading on the sofa when I heard a commotion downstairs.

"Quick! Get me some toilet roll or some paper towels!" I heard Thing One say. Intrigued by his request, and sensing something was amiss, I went downstairs to investigate. Upon arrival, I found blood pouring down Thing One's face, a wad of toilet paper smashed against his head and splatters of blood all over the kitchen floor. It was like a horror film, primary school style.

"What happened?" I asked.
"I got hit in the head with the golf club," Thing One said.
"One of the plastic ones?" I asked while my internal monologue was "Please. Please. Please. Let it be one of the plastic ones."
"No. One of the real ones," he replied, while I immediately thought, "That's a trip to the hospital, then."
Finally he showed me the wound. It wasn't long, but it was deep, and the blood kept on coming.

Thing One was so brave. He wanted to cry, I could tell, but he willed himself not to. His hands were shaking and he seemed a little dazed, though that's not surprising, given that it was a 9-iron.

When we got to the A&E (that's emergency room, for my American fans), I figured we were due for a return trip, since the last time we were there was two years ago. Thing One's last hospital visit was four years ago, when he had to get a 2.5" splinter removed from his foot. But that's a story for another time.

It didn't take Thing One long to realize there was an upside to the injury: A scar just like Harry Potter! (though unlike Harry, this scar will be right between the eyes.) The doctor at the A&E
didn't think he'll get a scar, but don't tell Thing One. He thinks it's the best thing that happened to him all year.

Like I said, every cloud has a sliver lining if you look for it.

London Marathon 2008: Another way to get a medal

In 2005, I earned a London Marathon medal by:
• Training with Thing Two, then 18 months old;
• Raising more than £4,000 for my charity, CAMFED; and
• Running 26.2 miles on 17 April 2005.

In 2008, I earned a London Marathon medal by:
• Waking up at 6 a.m., walking up to the top of Greenwich Park, and collecting the bags of the runners. Oh, and Thing One, Thing Two and Mr. MarathonMum all got medals too (see above).

For obvious reasons, I LOVE Marathon Sunday. Since we live in Greenwich, we're at the start of it all. Thing One and I played a fun game on Saturday afternoon called "Spot the Runner." We'd look for the official London Marathon bags, and then pass along a "Good Luck" wish to the runner. By the time we were done with our short errand, we had seen about 10 runners and their families. Last night, we made "Good Luck" signs to hang in our windows, since many runners pass by the house on their way to the start. We were ready for the big day.

This morning we got up early to join the rest of the Cub Scouts at the TNT trucks to collect the bags. Thing Two really was too young to be any help, but when he heard that we would be going, and there would be Official Medals Involved, he cried so hard that I just had to ask if he could come along. (For obvious reasons, I think he feels a special connection to the London Marathon). To be fair, he pitched in as best he could and he wished all the runners he saw "Good Luck."

For me, I had very mixed emotions today. I was really happy and excited for all the runners, knowing how incredible the day is. I was thrilled to have already done it. But at the same time, I was a little sad that I'll never be able to do it again. But both Thing One and Thing Two said at least once today that they'll do the London Marathon when they get older (we'll see), so I'll be able to live vicariously through them.

It was a fantastic day: inspiring to see all the runners, heart-warming to see all of the supporters, and thrilling to see the finishers. Well done to everyone who finished, and well done to the 6,000 volunteers (like us) who helped along the way.

"My First Angry Mob!"

The Olympic Torch Relay ran through London Sunday, finishing at the Dome in Greenwich, and we were lucky enough to see it. But it wasn't quite the experience I thought it would be.

My only memory of an Olympic Torch Relay was in 1984, when the torch went across the continental U.S. before the Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. It was a very happy event, and people were thrilled to see the torch. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case here.

Here in London, 24 years later, "Free Tibet" protesters lined the route and some tried to grab the torch, put out the torch, and otherwise disrupt the proceedings. I spent the morning and afternoon watching the afternoon with an increasing sense of dread: what if something really terrible happened at the end, where we would be? I told Mr. MarathonMum, "The Dome is either going to be the absolute worst place to be, or the safest."

As it happens, we were in an area outside of the Dome, and you had have a ticket to get in. I had won the tickets from Greenwich Council, which thrilled me to no end when I won them, but in retrospect, it wasn't that great of a prize. I foolishly thought there would be loads of other Olympic-type things to do before the concert and the torch arrival, like they did for Leap for London 2012, but they had nothing. So Thing One and I spent a lot of time (about two hours) waiting around on a VERY COLD day (it snowed earlier) for the torch to arrive.

The Sugababes (I know, Who?) were set to perform at the concert, but they cancelled. Apparently they were well enough to do the relay itself, but not the concert. Two very nice 20somethings next to me were VERY disappointed. I said to them, "Why can't they show up to lip-sync, which they undoubtedly would do?" So instead we were treated to three local bands we never heard of, and will probably never hear of again. So more waiting in the cold.

Finally, Ellen MacArther arrived on the boat with the torch. The people cheered, but I don't know if that was for Ellen, the torch, or that the waiting was over. They had all sorts of officials on the stage (Princess Anne, Sebastian Coe, Ken Livingston), and then the torch, now carried by Kelly Holmes, arrived.

A very smilely Chinese official, who I later learned was Jiang Xiaoyu, executive vice president of the Beijing Olympic organizing committee, made a speech. It was in Chinese, so I didn't know what he was saying. For all I know he was telling us, "And we will crush those who disagree with us on Tibet," all with a smile on his face.

Since our area was ticketed, there were no protesters nearby. Frankly, for me, that was a relief, since Thing One was with me and I was nervous enough as it was. Occasionally, we could hear chants on the other side of the stage, "Free Tibet! Free Tibet!". Another man behind us yelled, "Shame on you!" when Jiang Xiaoyu was speaking.

Then it was all over. All in all, it was very disappointing. The celebration was probably dampened by the ongoing protests throughout the day. At least the torch stayed lit through the day, unlike in Paris.

As we were leaving the ticketed area to get our bus home, we had to walk through about 100 Free Tibet protesters, who were chanting and waving signs. Thing One turned to me and said, "My first angry mob!"

One for the baby book, I suppose.

Opening Day in the Playground

As it was baseball's opening day this week, Thing Two thought* it only appropriate that he wear his baseball glove to school. 

*In actual fact, he found the glove in the bottom of the hat basket and said, "Wow. This is cool. What is it?" Such is the life of an American expat living abroad.

When he saw his best friend E he said, "Look at my baseball glove!"

E's mum tried to explain what it was. "Baseball is a lot like boxing."

"Well, no," I gently corrected her, and then explained to E, "It's more like cricket. Except there are no wickets. But they do use a bat, though its long and tapered, rather than long and flat."

I added, "The players wear baseball hats," knowing that E knew what a baseball hat was.

E's mum, who was still trying to be helpful added, "Yes, and the players wear big shoulder pads to protect themselves from the other players."

When I stopped laughing, I told her, "No. Wrong sport. That's American football. Why don't you leave the American explanations to the expert?"

Best April Fools Stories

Here in the U.K., they take April Fools very seriously. To wit, all of the major newspapers have at least one April Fools story in today's edition. Here's a roundup of the best ones, with thanks to the Guardian, who compiled the list. (Links provided under the name of the guilty party.)

• French First Lady Carla Bruni Sarkozy being recruited as a style guru to Britain. (The Guardian)

• French President Nicolas Sarkozy to undergo new medical "stretching" technique that will add 5 inches to his height. (The Sun)

• A new BBC documentary, "Miracles of Evolution" shows that not only can penguins fly, but that they migrate to the Amazon rainforest. (Daily Telegraph and Daily Mirror)

• The RSPB announced its concern about migratory birds staying in Britain too long and threatening native species such as the sparrow. (Radio 4 at 7:46 a.m.). 

• Chef Gordon Ramsay, whose middle name should be f***, bans all swearing in his restaurants worldwide.  (The Independent)

Happy April Fool's Day.

Daffodils: A Retrospective

Every year since 2003, we walk over to the Queen's House to take a picture in front of the sea of daffodils they plant there. The pictures from 2003-2005 are somewhere safe* (*so safe I can't find them easily), but here are the pictures from 2006-2008, digitized on my computer. Enjoy!

2006

2007

2008

Boo Hoo

Villanova scored first in its NCAA Sweet Sixteen game against Kansas, and lead for the next 3 seconds.

Unfortunately, the team never regained the lead and lost to the Jayhawks 72-57. Or, as the esteemed New York Times described it, we got "clobbered."

When told of the loss, Thing One and Two said, "Better luck next year."

Indeed.

Being Far From March Madness Can Be Maddening

LONDON -- Philosophy 101 Question: If a Villanova fan in a foreign country screams victoriously in the middle of the night during March Madness, can anyone who cares hear her?

This is a question I ponder nearly every year in March. As a Villanova alumna living in London since 1998, I have learned how to be a faithful fan surrounded by people who think that March Madness is some sort of psychiatric condition.

Thanks to the wonders of the Internet, being a far-flung fan is not as difficult as it once was. When I first moved to London and the Internet was still in its infancy, I could only keep up with the Wildcats by reading the scores the next day. This year, I can watch the games themselves, which is the closest thing to nirvana an international NCAA basketball fan can experience in March.

The Internet has even enabled me to participate in the most storied of March traditions, the NCAA Tournament Pool. For my first March Madness abroad in 1999, I found myself on the floor of the Rome airport, filling out my brackets in a very expensive copy of USA Today. The exercise was for my own amusement only, but I felt such a profound loss in not being able to participate in a pool that I thought if I filled out the brackets, I would feel better. I didn’t, even if I was the winner of my pool-of-one, and Villanova lost in the first round anyway.

But sitting on the dusty floor of an airport using a pen and paper for bracket filling is a thing of the past. A fellow ‘Nova alum set up an Internet site for people to make their choices, and payment is via PayPal. While my location may put me at a distinct disadvantage in knowing who’s hot and who’s not, at least I have the distinction of being the only international player in a pool of nearly 300 people.

Even though I play in a pool, it doesn’t replicate the community of hope I experienced while a student on Villanova’s Main Line campus. I do what I can, mostly using my two sons (age 8 and 4) for my own amusement. After all, isn’t that what children are for? I taught them both how to sing the Villanova fight song and they both proudly wear Villanova gear. Even my husband, who isn’t exactly a Wildcat fan but knows what’s good for him, will be supportive during this crucial month.

But it still isn’t quite right. Singing the fight song can cheer me to no end, but my son’s friends don’t understand what they’re doing. Proudly wearing the Villanova colors might make my day, but the people my sons pass on the street think they’re making a fashion statement, not showing their support.

After Villanova’s victory in the first round, I found that the Gods of Scheduling had smiled on me for the Easter Sunday game against Siena at 12:10 p.m. Eastern Time (4:10 p.m. London time). The only problem was we were guests at an Easter lunch party. My host, a Temple University alumnus, understood my need to check on the score periodically throughout the meal. The rest of the guests, though, were far more interested in the outcome of the Arsenal-Chelsea football match that was playing on the radio in the kitchen.

When I returned to the dining room upon the completion of the first half, I found myself in the unusual situation of explaining the significance of the NCAA Tournament to several people who had never heard of it. Once I finished my monologue about the beauty of basketball, 65 collegiate teams, Cinderella stories and Villanova’s place in it all, the British guests all nodded their heads politely, as if they understood. I’m quite certain they thought I was bonkers. But because my fellow guests were British, and therefore exceedingly polite, they congratulated me on Villanova’s win at the end of the evening.

So when you’re gathered around the television set on Friday night to watch the Villanova Wildcats take on the Kansas Jayhawks, spare a thought for those of us on the other side of the world, up in the middle of the night, and cheering as quietly as possible so we don’t wake up the rest of the house.

This is an Op-Ed I submitted to the Philadelphia Inquirer. They didn't take it. I like to think I submitted it too late, but it's possible they just didn't like it. Now you can enjoy it on MarathonMum instead.

Easter Weekend in London: A Weather Recap

Even though it was officially Spring as of Friday, it didn't feel like it this Easter weekend, the earliest since 1913*. The next time it will be this early will be in 2228, provided the Earth is still a viable living planet then.

* If you're wondering how Easter Sunday is determined, it is always the first Sunday after the first full moon of the Spring Equinox. Since the full moon fell on the first day of spring this year, Easter was Sunday. The earliest Easter can be is March 22 and the latest it can be is April 25, according to this formula set in 325 A.D.

I guess since we were straddling two seasons, we had EVERY type of weather this weekend. No meteorological stone was left unturned. Here in Greenwich, we experienced:
• Hail (see picture above);
• Sun;
• Snow;
• Wind;
• Rain;
• Thunder;
• Lightening.
I don't think I left anything out. For that matter, I don't think there's anything left.

Of course, because Thing One and Thing Two are back in school today, it is lovely and sunny, albeit cold.

However, MarathonMum HQ is warmed by the fact that VILLANOVA IS IN THE SWEET SIXTEEN! Sweet!!