East to West

Our time in the mother country is coming to an end and we're about to head back to see how much damage Harvey has done to Houston.  Our neighbours (who were temporarily stranded in Chicago) say that no flooding happened in our area.  We shall see soon enough.  Trump came to the city today so I'm sure he's sorted everything now.

We've been packing our final days with all the family and friends we haven't previously seen, and plenty we've seen several times.  We took in a classic West Country village show and a slap-up lunch in London, as well as more beach going, and...er...lots more lunches, dinners, etc.  The weather has been idyllic by English standards and - of course - when compared to the weather back in Texas.

Thank you to everyone who's hosted us during our long sojourn on this side of the Atlantic, and for lots of others who have traveled to say hello.  The invitation to Houston is always open...but maybe avoid the hurricane season.

And the winner of Frome's most beautiful couple...couldn't be here today.

Everywhere in Somerset is like this.

Edmund, Greta, Pete.

Two of the great West Country families - the Hollands and the Davieses.

And the usual chaos of a joint picnic.

Does it have a cold?  No, it's just a little horse!

Two things made in England in 1933.

A somewhat alarming JCB demonstration.

Don't try it, Pete.



Classic agricultural show.

Is that legal Aunty Em?

In Paddington station they show you the flights out of Heathrow!  Look, there's Houston!!  Oh...

Pete and Meg out and about in London!



At the National Maritime Museum.

Aye aye.

The place has some extremely amazing things, including this engraved cannonball from the Battle of Trafalgar.

Meg takes the helm in the ship simulator!  We ran aground.

Looking down on London from the Royal Observatory.

Together, and yet so far apart.  Standing each side of the Greenwich Meridian.

Voluntary evacuation

A massive tropical storm is heading straight for us!  Or it would be if we weren't in England.  I'm not sure I feel more powerless in the face of nature from 4000 miles away, or whether I'm just relieved I won't be home when the huge tree in our neighbour's back garden flattens our flooded house.  Still, we'll find out whether our home - or, indeed, Houston itself - is there when we return in a week.

Meanwhile we've been enjoying the more mellow natural wonders of Britain, including quite a lot of sunshine!  Our nephews and nieces took us paddle-boarding around Weymouth, and while they wore wetsuits (this is still an English summer) some actual swimming and ice cream eating did occur.

There was no crime reported in Bedfordshire during our entire stay.



Back in Somerset Hannah partook in some wassailing, where trees are beaten/shot/sung at to remove evil.  It's a West Country thing.  Sadly, she wasn't very successful at dislodging some very tenacious spirits.

Down to Weymouth, and a trip to the beach involving five children, two cars, paddleboards, an inflatable unicorn...

All worth it when we got there.

Oliver: once a baby, now a teenager.



Hannah somehow gets Jacob to give her a personal tour of Weymouth harbour.

Grandma, who cannot be away from her Grandson for more than 36 hours without severe withdrawal setting in, came to join us.

Katharine made a brew - she's done this before.

A snapshot of the chaos.



Danger to marine traffic.

 

How do you feed this lot?  With fish and chips!

Next day, and more feeding.

A spectacular work of nature.

Two spectacular works of nature.

Chips off the old block.

Swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool.

I took my nephew for a strenuous hike along Chesil Beach to show that his old uncle still had the constitution and tenacity of a 15-yr-old.  When it immediately became clear I no longer have the constitution and tenacity of a 15-yr-old I convinced him to find the nearest coffee shop.

Pete takes his Grandad for a few quid after our return to Blandford.

Family reunion

Hannah has arrived!  Thank goodness.  I can now take a break from all that park-going, book-reading, nursery-rhyme-singing, etc. that parents have to do...whenever they can't delegate such responsibilities to grandparents or aunts.

Hannah claims to have missed us terribly although her descriptions of massages, lunches out with friends, and the exit row seat she got on the flight tell a different story.  Her brother John even drove down to Heathrow to pick her up!  That's love.

Now we're together in Biggleswade and enjoying the wonderful British summer, when sometimes it doesn't rain for a whole morning!  Pete and his cousin Isobel are almost identical in age, and everything else.  Most of the time they tell us they're Batman and Batdog, and yesterday they got married.  So cute and socially progressive!  Maybe.



The family's asking more and more questions about whether John and Hannah are actually identical twins.

A practical demonstration of moments of force, or  as those of us with a theology degree say.

Pete has learned well from his Dad that if you make simple tasks look more difficult it adds a certain element of epicness.

Sam, Isobel and Pete: related by blood, excitable silliness, and an ability to eat their bodyweight at each meal.

...and a love of spying on the neighbours.

...and an obsession with touch screens.

...and a taste for babyccinos.

Hannah is called into service immediately.

More epic climbing.

John got some indoor fireworks for our entertainment ("they're safe - they're from China!")  Isobel knows her father, hence the worried expression.

What could possibly go wrong?



Disaster averted, and time for the obligatory family bath photos.  It all got a bit crowded when John, Laura, Hannah and I jumped in too...