We’re on our 97th consecutive week of crap weather. The word “spring” is being bandied about but everyone has their winter coats on and their umbrellas up. It’s entirely possible that there are finite weather combinations that can be happening in the world at any one time and the U.S. East Coast stole all the good weather from the UK. Forever. Yep, that’s my prediction. We’re just in a long march to next winter.
Do I sound negative? It might just be the monster toddler who swapped bodies with mine about a week ago. I am pretty sure he will be here at least another year. And the little one is crawling now. That’s never great, is it? I mean, we pretend it is with clapping and encouragements. But it just means the modem keeps getting pulled down and he ignores the toys to play Russian roulette with the doorjamb.
Usually under these circumstances, I would write about one of my Favourite Things. But I can’t think of any this second. So I am going to revisit and reminisce the last week of my life.
The good juju starts with last Wednesday. It was the day before my birthday. Since I ditched my kids on my actual birthday, I took them to the zoo the day before.
And then on the walk home through the park, the most outrageous thing happened. They both fell asleep. And the sky was blue. And it was warm. And so I sat down on a bench with my pig-in-shit expression and just shook my head slowly from side to side. It felt a little like winning the lottery for about 20 minutes. Happy birthday!
The day I actually turned 36 I went to the mall by myself. It’s been a sometime dream of mine to look for clothes without the company of a small human with an attention span akin to a fruit fly. It turns out, I have the attention span of a fruit fly too. But I did get some aqua-colored jeans. YAY FAD. Then at night Bryan surprised me with dinner and second-row seats to the Zach Braff play in the West End, All New People. I thought the show was really, really good. Thoroughly entertaining. And I was mere feet from my longtime-Scrubs crush. We realized that every play we have seen in the past ten years has starred someone from Hollywood. I should be embarrassed about that, prolly. But, I’m not.
I felt the love in the way it comes: cards, phone, Skype, text, emails, e-cards, that wily devil of Facebook. Our families were so generous and then look what Faye & Trish got me a subscription to!:
It’s a gift they will benefit from also, just like the German chocolate cake Faye baked me, AGAIN! It’s the most delicious cake I have ever tasted in my life. She could quit her job and just sell them. IJS.
The Trumbells hosted their annual Passover Seder. And we had our annual good times. Jonah got to again demonstrate the 10 Plagues. This time Lice was a personal favorite.
On Sunday Sarah had scored the impossible reservation and organized a group brunch at a newish joint in Fulham, Harwood Arms, that specializes in using only UK-sourced (and therefore, in-season ingredients). Which is why this exchange between me and a slightly impatient server lady took place for real:
Me: Hmm, I don’t see any- um, I want like a Bellini.
Exasperated Server Lady: We don’t have that.
Oh, well… um, let me just scroll though… uh, do you have like, I don’t know a mimosa or something?
We use seasonal ingredients so we don’t do fruit purees.
Oh, so can I have just some kind of Prosecco drink with a fruit juice?
No, that’s what I was saying.
Can I get it with pomegranate juice or something?
We don’t have that.
I just want- ugh. Well how about you put a few strawberries at the bottom of my Prosecco? That should be fine.
We don’t have strawberries. That’s what I am saying about local and in-season.
Oh, right. Yeah… sorry. Okay, how about just bring a Prosecco with some asparagus!
Just Prosecco will be fine, thanks.
Note: Prosecco is from OUTSIDE THE UK. But I forgive. Look at this double Sunday roast!
Also, lots of other exciting things happened over the few days. Matt & Trish asked Jonah to be their ring bearer when they get married in August in California! (Just ignore my bad photoshopping.)
On Sunday, Girls debuted on HBO. The advance hype and post-airing dissection have been pretty intense. Before it even aired I knew I was going to be a fan. Then I saw it and I am a super fan. At 36 I guess I am a Millennial-wannabe. Don’t care.
Today marks 100 days until the Olympics. Look at those silly Foot Guards.