There’s just so much to blog about, I almost can’t keep up. But oh are the holidays in full swing here. The social events, gifts to mail, photo shoots to mastermind- combined with Bryan’s last week of work. And when a legend leaves the building, you know, there’s some hoopla.
It snowed in London today. First of the season. More importantly, my baby’s first snowfall. It was magical for me to try and see it through his eyes. And then I realized I was projecting because really I am obsessed with snow. Always have been. I love it love it love it. As Jim Gaffigan would say. I don’t know how normal snow is for London but at this rate it has been snowing as frequently each winter we’ve lived here as in NY and DC. The difference is in the accumulation. Accumulation is one of those words that should be versatile and yet has been so commandeered by weather. Hmm. But so Jonah’s first snow. A great moment.
So we had a couple parties this past weekend. The one I need to mention was Saturday night at the flat of two friends we met through Bryan’s work. The She is English and the He is Italian. They live in a big, gorgeous flat and they are the kind of peers of mine that act so grown-up they served all the wine and champagne in real glasses. Which was the first time it occurred to me that I might be moving beyond the part of my life where it’s appropriate to put out paper and plastic plates and cutlery at something I host (as I sheepishly stock up on plastic and paper for a party we’re having Saturday). It turns out that many grocery stores and wine suppliers will lend crates of glasses for free. Is there a secret society where people get to learn these grown-up tips?
But that’s not actually my point. So we’re at this very grown-up, beautiful party and the few Americans that were there were being far and above the most obnoxious. Because it is our birthright. So Bryan starts doing weird routines about books on the couple’s bookshelf, when all of the sudden, lo and behold, he pulls off this gem:
I couldn’t have been more surprised if it had been Mein Kampf.
I immediately grabbed the book and accosted the He host and asked him Why On Earth he had that book. I wish you could have heard him say in his strong Italian accent (not the New Jersey kind, the real kind), “some friends and I drove across America after university, from Santa Fe to California. Have you been to Santa Fe? It is lovely. And every night in the hotels, we would see this program, this Dog. And my friends bought me the book at the airport.” And I told him that I could not be prouder to be an American. And asked would I be able to borrow the book. And he kindly obliged. And so now I am excited to read it. Merry freaking Christmas to me.