Out of town

We are going with friends to Italy,
so it will be a couple of weeks until the next post!

Presents and Presence

So much has happened this month. The two latest things are that Ben and I both had our (shock! gasp!) 30th birthdays, and then my sister Lisa and bro-in-law Dallas came to visit. Hence presents and presence! As an added bonus, there is a story about my sister Sharla and the delivery that came on the wrong day.

Nice people such as Ben's mom & aunt sent us cards in the mail and emails with birthday wishes. Thanks! My family decided to use Lisa as a way around the expensive postal system. Here are some of the things they sent. Not pictured: Reese's peanut butter eggs and other treats (eaten!).

Ben is smiling because the diaper bag gift is so cute and has Winnie the Pooh on it. But what he just said to me was, "Why do people with babies always have to carry around bags with so much stuff?" I guess we'll learn soon enough.

Not attractive, but I had to show the cupcakes. On my actual birthday we went to see a show. I couldn't not have a "birthday cake", so I snuck these high class bakery cupcakes into the theatre.

On Ben's birthday Lisa and Dallas took us to eat at the Criterion restaurant - thanks! Then we went next door to catch a show, The 39 Steps, at the Criterion Theatre. 15 pound student discount seats - nice. The show was so funny and the theatre lovely. I think what really made Ben's night was when we were sitting in the cute 100-year-old theatre and I turned to Ben and said, "You could make a room like this in your house." After the show we set to mastering the self-portrait. Result shown above.

It was so fun to have Lisa and Dallas here! They were great houseguests. Here is a picture of us outside of the rebuilt Shakespeare's Globe right after our tour. Ben works there (note the nametag) and he got us in for free. The weather was gorgeous all week long. When they left, they filled the space in their bags from our presents with chocolate to take home.
Good thinking...

Sharla tried to get this Edible Arrangements delivered on my birthday, but there was some miscommunication. It ended up being delivered just before Ben's birthday. It also happened to get here on the day that Lisa and Dallas took a day trip to Paris... with my house keys. This is the story of the wackiness that followed that day. It's long but funny, and mostly dialogue. Oh, and yes the balloon says Happy Mother's Day. M's Day in the UK is in March.

Our door locks with a key on both sides, so you need one to get in and out. We have two sets and I gave mine to Lisa and Dallas while they were here. They went to Paris that Wednesday. Can you see where this is going?

When Ben left for school, he locked the door behind him (of course). 10 minutes later I realized, (first) "I can't lock the door behind me because I don't have the keys!" Then... "Wait! The dead bolt needs a key for both sides! I can't get out!" I called Ben 12 times, but he didn't pick up the phone - it doesn't work on the tube (subway).

I had accepted my home-bound fate and was ok with it. I had lots of studying to do. However, about 45 minutes later, who should knock on the door but the delivery man from Edible Arrangements. After two weeks they finally get here, and it's the day that I am locked in the house like Rapunzel. I go to the door and say hello through it, but don't open it. The following conversation ensues. (remember he has a British accent)

"Delivery."
"Oh, thank you. I, um, can't open the door."
Silence.
"See, my husband took the only set of keys with him and now the door is locked and I can't get out."
"I can't quite hear you." He leans down and opens the mail slot to look in at me and listen better. I lean down to make eye contact and we have a conversation through the mail slot.
"What was that?"
"See, my sister is here for the week, and I lent her my keys, but she's in Paris and my husband took the other set, and when he left he forgot that I couldn't get out."
Pause. "Couldn't he come home then?"
"He is coming home, but right now he's in the city and won't be home until about 6 PM." (It's 10:45).
"Well, you see I've got this delivery for you... it's like this fruit thing. I don't want to leave it on the porch that long."
"Right."
"Do you have a window?"
"Um, only the ones upstairs. The ones in the front are to the other flat." That would have been too easy.
"Are you alright in there?"
"I'm fine. Just kind of embarrassed." I'm talking to a complete stranger through a mail slot, after all.
"You're sure you're alright?"
"Yeah, thanks."
"Do you have a garden (backyard)?"
"Yes, but the wall is really high, like 9 feet."
"I'll just go around and check it out then?"
"Ok." It will probably still be 9 feet tall, but go ahead.
He leaves to see that indeed the back wall is 9 feet tall and there is no gate in. While he's gone I go to the window upstairs and look for something Rapunzel-esque to lower down.
"Miss?"
"Hi - I'm up here." Now talking down at him from the second storey window a la Steve Martin and Daryl Hannah in Roxanne.
He looks up at me. "That wall is too high."
"Right."
"See, I have to make this delivery. I have one more to do in North London and then I have to go back to Birmingham, so..."
"Um, I have these scarves. Do you think you could tie them around it and send it up here?"
Incredulous look. "Um, well, see there's these skewers and this note what says..." "(reads my sister's birthday note to me). I just think it wouldn't work - it would ruin the whole thing. No, I don't think this is going to work."
"What about these?" I send the elastic resistance exercise bands I ordered on ebay out the window. I have hooked 3 of them together. He looks at me like I'm crazy, but to humor me he ties one around the middle of the arrangement.
"This won't work." He unties them. "Are you sure you're ok?" He thinks some overprotective man has locked me in my house. The biggest story in Britain right now is about this guy from Austria who kept his daughter locked in their basement for years. "What about if I check with one of your neighbors?"
"I think they're all at work."
"Do you have a ladder then? That would make this easier."
"No. Sorry."
"Um, I'll just check with the neighbors..."
"Ok. Thanks."
Neighborly man named Ralph comes out of his flat and looks at the fruit basket and then up at me leaning out of the window. "Are you alright up there?" Everyone thinks I am trapped.
"Yes, I'm fine. Would you mind keeping that until my husband gets back?"

I have to explain again about my sister going to Paris and why I am locked in the house. Everyone looks very suspicious. Ralph agrees to hang on to the gift, and if he has to leave, he'll put it on the porch. Delivery man gives me one more strange look and then says goodbye. Ralph goes back to his flat. I laugh hysterically for a good 10 minutes. Ben calls about an hour later and I tell him what happened. I remain locked in the flat until he gets home at 6 PM. :) Then we eat chocolate covered strawberries for dinner. Yum!

An imperfect science?

We went to the ultrasound on Tuesday and everything looks normal and healthy. When we asked about the sex, we were told by the rather laid back tech that they can never be too sure on these things. However, she did give us her opinion and put a note in the medical record. I have composed a poem for the occasion to tell you what she noted. Ahem...

All of you
Patient
People who are
Excited to know:
A girl or a boy?
Really, we're not 100%
Sure ourselves. But...

For the time being, the
Educational guess
Makes it seem
As though our
Lives will be blessed
Ever so much by... what you read down the line.

Ok, not my best poem ever, but I was constrained by what letters each line had to start with (hint, hint). We were, of course, excited, and we let our families know by having flowers of the traditionally accepted shade sent to them. Have fun figuring it out!

PS I keep messing with the blog colors, but don't have a very good eye for color, so it might look funny for awhile.

And the survey says...

We find out next week if we're having a boy or a girl. Which do you think it will be?

Please click on the "boy" or "girl" button on the right to officially make your prediction. Comments are great too, but you have to click to make it count!

Vote now! :)

Amsterdam (or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Pickled Herring)

A few weeks ago we had our "reading week" (spring break) and took a last-minute trip to Amsterdam. It's like flying from Salt Lake to Vegas - a quick flight, a cheap hotel, and lots of colorful surroundings. In fact, Amsterdam is kind of the Vegas of Europe, where lots of Europeans come to "let their hair down." What this typically means is indulging in marijuana and prostitution (although hopefully not at the same time). Both of these pursuits are fully legalized in the Netherlands, and they're very up-front about it. It's admittedly strange, walking past lots of working women sitting in windows lit with red lights, trying to attract tourists, and never quite escaping the odd scent of pot smoke. It was like being at a really, really long rock concert.

However, these two notably liberal viewpoints aside, the Dutch are quite traditional and conservative. The city itself is quite beautiful, full of canals and tall, narrow buildings that are slowly settling and sinking in to each other. The highlights of our visit were the Van Gogh museum, which has about 200 of his paintings - we were lucky, and they had "The Starry Night" temporarily on loan from New York; and the Anne Frank House. It was an amazing and fascinating place, yet it's just a bunch of empty rooms. The story is told in such a way that you use your imagination to get a sense of how these brave people lived.

Here's a bunch of photos:

Heather is happy to be at the central town square


A good-old-fashioned Dutch windmill. It really works!

Wacky rooflines are everywhere

Hmmm...not quite my size.

A nice little flower & produce market we stumbled on.

Bikes make up about 50% of the traffic in Amsterdam. Wow.

This is one of the main canals, near the place we stayed.

This is the only picture we could take at the Anne Frank House. It's a map of her neighborhood, with the House in color. That big church on the corner is the one whose bells she heard ringing.

Every major city in Europe has the two American burger chains duking it out for prime territory. Oh, well.

And no photo collection of Amsterdam would be complete without a "coffeeshop." This is local code for "we sell dope." They don't actually serve coffee.

As for the pickled herring...we didn't try it. The local delicacy was just a little too slimy and raw for our tastes.

Hope you've enjoyed this little tour of Amsterdam/Holland/The Netherlands. A month-in-a-minute video will be coming along one of these days.