Carnival, Hogwarts, & tattoos... with BethAnn

MEETING UP IN KENSINGTON.
Equipped with a backpack of clothes and armed with a camera,
my baby sister BethAnn flew from Brooklyn over the ocean.
Having only been here during the dark & dreary Christmas season,
she'd not yet experienced the beauty of England with
leaves on the trees and warm sunshine!


They say a picture is worth a thousand words...
but she took nearly a thousand photographs of our time together!


CHEESY TOURISTS IN LONDON.


Magical Big Ben (they didn't see Peter Pan flying around)

lunch and a giggle break


We made a stop at the same Fullers Pub we visited 6 years ago
when the London Underground had a black-out.

(was some guy checking me out? or is Sam just pulling a face?)

more walking through St James' Park... and an ice cream

To Buckingham Palace to see the Queen!!


("one guard for the Tourists... one guard for the Terrorist")



The Wellington Arch with the Statue of Peace on top.


(we took this identical family photo nearly 3 years ago!! It wasn't in England though!)


Little legs are exhausted -it's back to the hotel we go.

FINDING PETER PAN.

We found him!!
Amazing detail in the statue -fairies and mermaids
Now, let's fly off to Neverland...
Sandy, were you sprinkled with faerie dust??

and Captain Hook's pirate ship :)



The "Never Land Playground" was simply amazing.
BethAnn had to tell some kid off for chucking sand at the girls.
That's right, don't mess with her babies!


CARNIVAL IN NOTTING HILL, LONDON
The children's parade was LOUD
and the post-party was immediately claustrophobic.
Good food, though: jerk chicken, rice & peas, watermelon
and a fresh coconut to wash it down.





Our poor, little girls have unfortunately inherited
both parents' dancing (in)abilities,
but they sure did have fun trying to get their groove on!


ON TO HOGWARTS!!
(If you've never read or seen any Harry Potter stories,
then I apologize for any confusion...
just know we had a magical time!)
On the way out of London we left King's Cross Station from
Platform 9 3/4 and took the train home.



The next day we 4 girls took a road trip up north to
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" (Alnwick Castle).


BethAnn surprised the girls with their own magic wands
and we wandered the grounds turning strangers into statues.




Molly found a great place to learn to fly a broom.



We were surprised to bump into
Hagrid, Professor Dumbledor & Hedwig the Owl!




A lot of magic and giggles for all ages
-with the exception of finding out the difference
between "wet Muggle water vs dry wizard water"
(Molly got drenched with the 'Muggle' water)
... okay, she looks pitiful, but you had to be there. hilarious.


the day ended with an ice cream
and a lovely rainbow over Alnwick Castle

LAZY DAYS WITH BETHANN. SORT OF.


Princess Picnics -synchronized juice box chugging

little pouting princess

Sandy... what is this face all about!??!


Molly -now you, too??


Anyway, have we told you about the sister tattoo?
Here is BethAnn with her 3 bubbles...
...and her very non-English lunch.


then she and I went to the prettiest tattoo parlor ever and...


I got MY Sister Tattoo! (augh!! I did it!!)
absolutely no regrets. I love it.

back home and:

Who says Side Walk Chalk isn't versatile?
Our final day we picked plums from the tree next door and
made Plum Preserves ~BethAnn said they "tasted like Christmas"


Whenever Aunt BethAnn comes over we never stop
laughing, being silly and apparently pulling a crazy face!
Thank you for flying out, my baby sister.
We all love you tons & tons
~xoxo~

Consulting the Muse concerning Bardic Roots whilst visiting the Fair Land for a wee Gathering of the Borderfolk.

To have an itch unsatiated, tho' 2 week scratched.
Consuming, nomadic thoughts;
Pulling, Urging, Screaming: North!
Borders, Rievers, family ties: A perfect match.

How many branches in a family tree?
More than one:
Littles, Everetts, Jones, MacCauls,
Bonners, Miones, Duncan, Coots
Even broader roots:
Scotland, England, Ireland, Italy;
Nordic, German, French.
Northern stew, Southern spice.

Set sail for the Borders. Dumfrieshire. Galloway.
Land of poets, UN'ed hostels and the Gathering
Land of llamas?!?! Land of Kings! Land of wet...
Will we find that Holy Fair? Or will it simply be an epithet?



To scale the tallest peak in the Borders
The Merrick - Gobs of views, gobs of muck,
Gobs of slaughter;
Thoughts of freedom and brave hearts.




Nights in hostels with groups of Sundies
Swiss blokes begging bread,
Traveling Danes, young German girls
Bewitching old Scots.

Fawlty Towers panto by guys in undies
Quite a night with song and laughter,
(And not a small bit of cider.)
Recreated again, dramatically, with a cheater version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgAi7DYHA94

Setting: common room of the hostel with 4 long tables. The Nomad and an older Sunderlander at one table, 7 young and 2 older Sunderlanders spread over the others. 2 German girls in the kitchen washing up. The Sundies are talking in their version of Cockney Rhyme and the German girls think they keep saying Fritz...
German girl 1: enters the common room "Who is Fritz"?
Sunderlanders: quizzical looks.
German girl 1: "Who is Fritz? Is there a Fritz here?"
Young Sunderlander 1: from the far side of the room, gesticulating wildly towards the nomad and the old sundie, who is drifting off to blessed sleep "There, he's Fritz!"
German girl 2: enters the common room "You are Fritz???"
Old Sunderlander: Leaping from his chair, knocking it down. "YES, I am Fritz!" he proceeds to perform the fawlty towers skit with the hitler impression and walk exactly like John Cleese. Straight towards the German girls.
German girls: Deadpanningly say: "Vyou know, vee are Germans."
Old Sunderlander: "But you started it, you invaded Poland!"
The room: Riotous laughing and falling out of chairs.
German girls: Exit stage left, slamming the door.
The room: proceed to drink cider and tell stories until a very unreasonable hour.

A foggy-headed morning, a nice drive to Dumfries.
The Bard's town by way of burial mound
Somehow appropriate, somehow mind-clearing,
It pushes us East, towards the Games, Tam O'Shanter hearing.



To sit in the chair wha' wrote Scotch Drink
To hear the whispers of a Bard's Epitaph.
And look for the Muse, gone to the West Indies
Makes you pause for a drink, and of inspired Ayr draw breath.

(Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonny lasses.) - the Muse



Off to find the games, I seek that Holy Fair.
"Aye, ye must cross that ancient bridge o' there.
Then listen in the air;
You'll hear the dancing and the piping", calling you from old.



What a Holy Fair it was! The Pipes!
Wi' bards and bands and birds of prey;
They danced, they sang,
They fought with valor.



But, all were awaitin' on that hour,
Biggies warming up their toes with drams of Life,
For tossing stones, hefting spears, foolishly catching.
Without doubt, a site worth watching!



The crowing glory of that day,
Came after sharing of uisge.
How fantastically fun it was to see,
The Haggis fly so wondrously!



And so it ends, this mighty tale,
But, all of this was true.
Aye, wha' great fun it was to see, to hear, to feel,
The piping of my Bardic roots!