It's Still June

It is soooo hot! We've just finished our first week of triple digit temperatures. Tomorrow it's supposed to be back down to 98 or 99. It seems as though that started much earlier last year, although I'm not motivated to look it up.

The alarm has been set between 5 AM and 6 AM every morning this week. It is already 82 degrees when I wake up. What this means in practical terms is that if I want to walk for an hour, my feet need to be on the pavement at 6:30 AM. I'm also forced to choose between walking and gardening. There is not enough time between 6:30 and 8:00 to do both. I can't get up much earlier - I don't want to walk or weed in the dark and by 8:00 it's too hot. At 8:30 I need to work. And besides, I'm really not much of a morning person, although with Mark's gentle prodding, I am improving.

Some of my plants are showing the stress of the heat. Who can blame them? If I were forced to stay out there all day I'm sure I'd be looking a bit wilted and yellow, as well.

Just walking from the car into a store puts a "glow" on my face - actually on my entire upper body. Golf is on hold. When I was young and skinny I could take the heat on the golf course. But not now. It really needs to drop back to the mid-90s before I'll go back out.

While we can still eat breakfast in the garden, dinner is becoming more of a challenge. There were two evenings this week when we had to eat inside because it was just too hot and humid to be out. There was even one night when we couldn't sit on the porch because of the heat. And it's still June.

Most of the time, Texas weather is lovely. Sunshine is reliable. (Rain, not so much.) But July and August are killers. After surviving last year we decided that we should plan to escape it this year. We made a list of everyone we knew who lived in a cooler place and decided we'd just arrange to visit each of them for a week or so and then come home when it cooled down. But we're really not likely to do that (and aren't some of you happy about that!) It's too long for Heidi and Hefner to be away at camp and we can't take them with us.

Having grown up in Ohio, it's always bothered me to "waste" a sunny day by being indoors. I love being out and about. I love al fresco dining. I love being on the golf course. I love sitting in my garden to read. And right now I would love to be back in England wearing jackets and sweaters. You can always put on more clothes if you are cold, but there is a limit to how much you can take off if you are hot.

The Paperwork Reduction Act

There is a pile of paper on my desk. It's been here for two weeks. (Actually, it's been here forever, but sometimes it gets down to one or two items.) But now it has reached critical mass and I must deal with it.

I started by calling NTTA. I got a letter from them saying my account has a negative balance. That's because the credit card they were charging expired. An easy one to fix. Then I called EnergyPlus because my bill shows a previous balance of $341.33, a payment of $341.33 and a balance forward of $17.07. A new and interesting way to do math. The young man said it was a late fee, but the check cleared my bank on the due date. If they don't get around to posting it for four days, it's really not my problem. Resolution: They'll remove the fee.

I stopped working on "the pile" to go pick up my amended tax return. Did I mention that my CPA "overlooked" $50K worth of deductions? I'll be getting a refund now!

But now I've got to get back to "the pile". (See? I've been successfully procrastinating by writing this!) The thing I'm dreading the most is researching why I'm getting bills from some medical providers that should have been paid by my former health insurance provider. I can't imagine that going smoothly and I really don't feel like fighting with anyone. Or maybe it's the triple digit heat sucking all the energy out of me...

Didn't the government pass a "Paperwork Reduction Act"? Why doesn't it apply to me?

Do you think yoga will help?

We got up yesterday morning and drove to Oklahoma City. We wanted to take our 9-year old grandson out for his birthday lunch and shopping trip. We told him he could choose where we went for lunch. I was expecting a place like Gattitown or Dave and Buster's. (Those are kiddie-casinos - places where you pay $30 for a child to play games for 30 minutes to win a prize worth 30 cents. An excellent business model, by the way.)

But instead, he chose Schlotzky's. Because they're fast. Clearly he did not want to waste any time getting to the Lego store.

In the Lego store, we bought the three things in the Ninjago collection that he didn't already have and went on to GameStop where we threatened to buy them out of Skylanders. In fact the young lady at the register suggested we might want to purchase a carrying case for our Skylanders. But we didn't.

Because one of his sisters and his mom came with us, we HAD to stop in at Claire's. Even though she's 11 and a year or so away from make-up, she had to look. Even though the inventory will change before she's allowed to have any of it, she does not see looking at it as a waste of time. (Clearly she has far more time than I do...) But Claire's proved to be good fun - lots of things to try on - hats, glasses, mustaches...

We set out for home after having some of the best smoked brisket ever and we got home just after 11 pm last night. I struggled to stay awake for the drive. (If Mark struggled, he didn't say. I hope it was easier for him since he was driving.) But after riding in the Jeep for three hours, I found that muscles and joints didn't want to move to get me into the house so I could go straight to bed.

I seem to remember a time when I could ride in the car far longer than three hours and arrive at my destination ready to party. Do you think yoga will help?

The War on Bugs

We don't watch much TV. It puts us to sleep. So we sit on our back porch in our rockers, which is what one expects old people to do.

But lately there have been way too many June bugs. (Probably because it is June.) June bugs are disgusting creatures. They have directional control issues. If they get onto their backs, they're likely to die there as most of them seem unable to right themselves. But they're just as likely to fly straight into your arm, or your chest, or your face. Yuck!

They're too large for the geckos to eat, so we've declared war on them and their mosquito buddies, and whatever bug was eating the leaves of my plants. We have an arsenal of weapons. Note the spray can of raid and the spray bottles of Cutter. What you can't see is the sevin dust that was put down. We also changed the porch light from white to yellow. (I can't believe we didn't do this before. Even though Mark wasn't aware of the yellow light bulb trick, I've known it all my life.) I've also bought a new Citronella candle and you can see that Mark has the ultimate weapon -- a new June Bug Racquet!

This one is far more powerful than the old one. And at half the price. It was looking like the fourth of July out there last night. They sizzle and spark when they make contact. Any bug (June or otherwise - except for lady bugs) that had the misfortune of venturing onto our porch last night was promptly zapped.

It's good that we're so easily amused. But I think it's telling that zapping bugs is more entertaining than anything on television.

There's No Place Like Home

England was great. We had the full spectrum of English weather; sunny days, cloudy days, rainy days, warm days and cold days. Seeing the family was great and we had some interesting hotel stays. But it's almost time to go home. If only I had some ruby slippers, I could just click my heels...

But unlike Dorothy, I have to take a plane home. This time it's British Airways. They are sooooo much better than American Airlines. The food is edible. Forget all the jokes you've heard about British food. There is nothing wrong with the food served on British Airways. (By the way, there was nothing wrong with any of the food we had while we were in England.) There is plenty wrong with the food served on American Airlines - so much that I'm not even going there.

The BA flight attendants pass through the cabin with water and juice every couple of hours. The AA flight attendants retreat to the galley in the back after the meal service and you never see them again unless you make a point to go back there.

Only two complaints about BA. (You knew there had to be one or two.)

1. If you happen to be in the loo when the captain turns on the seat belt sign, a flight attendant will knock on the door and order you back to your seat. (I am not in the loo for fun. I have business there and when it is finished, I will return to my seat. Thank you.)
2. Taxes paid to Uncle Sam on "free (use your air miles)" tickets on AA are typically $200 per person (round trip). BA collects the tax for Her Majesty, which is nearly $800 per person. This high rate of tax will keep me on American whenever possible, which is unfortunate because BA really has better food and better service than AA.

God Save the Queen

God will have to save the queen. She's 86 and had to stand on a barge for three and a half hours in the cold. Granted, she's got a pretty cushy job most of the time. But the Diamond Jubilee celebration should have worn her out.

I watched it on TV and it wore me out. We had planned to go to a celebration in Manchester but there was that whole nasty gastric upset thing the night before which caused most of us not to do anything that didn't absolutely have to be done and Diamond Jubilee Celebration certainly fell into the optional category.

We suspect that the grandbaby gave us all the bug. It's the only explanation since three out of four of us were violently ill and we hadn't eaten the same thing. We later learned that the parents (and the other grandparents) had been ill the previous week but the parents didn't want to accept blame. And in all fairness, none of us were cuddling the parents.

While I was free to lounge on the couch all day, my step-daughter and her partner had to go to IKEA. They'd just moved into a new (to them) house and realized that their new bed was missing some parts and of course, when you don't feel well (they were sick along with me), a bed is more comforting than a mattress on the floor.

By the way, it's a great house! It has a cellar that they're planning to do into a useable work room. It has a converted loft and an extra large bathroom with a tub AND a shower. And it's in a fabulous location around the corner from the tram station, across the road from a beautiful park with pubs and restaurants in easy walking distance.

But, I digress. This is the good part: Because we're old(er), they assembled our bed first so that we wouldn't have to do mattress on the floor. See!! Getting older does have some advantages. It probably has more advantages if you're the queen. But then again, no one asked me to stand up and ride on a barge and wave to people for three and a half hours.

You Can't Swing a Cat in Here!

You can't swing a cat without getting fur in your teeth. Strange words to describe a small space, but you do get the idea.

We arrived at the Duke William Hotel in Lincoln. No problem finding the hotel, but the proprietor was concerned that we might not be able to find the parking lot and so sent one of the pub patrons with us to show us the way. This man was as "pissed as a parrot" and it's a wonder he could find it. But he did and we wheeled our bags past the inflatable hot tub in the courtyard and into the pub. Our room was in the "annex" which was a short walk down the street.

The drunk patron latched onto my bag in order to "help" us get settled. Mark assured him that we could manage, but he was determined. Trouble was he had no more idea where this annex was than we did. In the end, Mark went back into the hotel and this time the owner came out and gave him a bit more specific directions. (The first directions were "down there on the right").

We went down a dark narrow alley and emerged into a courtyard of sorts. Not much in it really. Then we entered a dark room with a fridge and hotplate and a narrow stairway. After looking at the stairway, the drunk bailed on us and left us to it. Just as well, he couldn't have navigated that stairway at all. But really, what do the English have against elevators?

We had the bags in the room and we had no idea where we were going to put them. The room was soooo tiny. The solution was to dismantle the clothes rack and store it under the bed so we'd have a place to stack our bags. The desk I'd planned to work at was non-existent. But you could sit on the bed and put the computer on the window sill.

But the icing on the cake was the bathroom. We figure the bathroom was about 3 ft. x 7 ft. You had to sort of slide under the sink to get on the toilet. Well here, check it out. Room Tour Video

But what I really loved about this room was the fake fireplace. I turned it on so that if I woke up during the night, I would be reminded that I was in hell for the night.

Where's My iPhone?

Before arriving in Manchester, we spent two more nights in hotels. The first, Caley Hall in Old Hunstanton, was pleasant enough. I worried a bit when I saw that the hall way was a bit worn. I think the hall and stairway (no elevator again!) get beaten to death by people trying to get bags that barely fit the space into their rooms. But the suite itself was nice. Bathrobes included, but not required. I would have preferred a room that overlooked the gardens rather than the children's play area, but we're only there one night. It isn't important.

The food here was good, a bit too much parsley to suit me, (I prefer more adventurous spices) but still good. The big bonus is that they give you bottles of water and don't charge you for them!

The next day we got up, ate breakfast, and set off for Lincoln and another cathedral. We wanted to arrive there and get checked in to the room so that I could be online at a desk (rather than online in the car) when the US market opened. We had two hours to spare when Mark asked me where his iphone was. I'm not sure why his iphone should be my responsibility, but I really didn't recall picking it up and I didn't have it. Noting that he lost his iphone when we were in England in January probably wasn't my best option, but who could resist? A phone call to Caley Hall and the phone is located. We turn around and drive back to Old Hunstanton to retrieve the phone.

It's time for lunch and we won't make it back to Lincoln to get checked in before 2:30. Which turns out to be unimportant. Stay tuned tomorrow to find out why.

Bathrobes and Breakfast

Having left the Comfort Hotel and the "come back tomorrow" gang, we needed a place to spend the night. Just down the road a bit at Thorpe Le Soken is the Lifehouse Spa and Resort. Normally these rooms are 300 GBP per night ($450) but using LateRooms.com, we got it for 80 GBP ($120). A bargain!!

Being a Dallas girl, I had to look at the spa menu. But I'm accustomed to Dallas prices coupled with a Groupon and found the spa "treatments" outlandishly priced. And I question the use of the word "treatment" when "indulgence" is probably a better choice. Anyway, I digress...

Even though Mark was encouraging me to indulge myself, I thought the time (and money) would be better spent just having a walk around the grounds. They were beautiful! Irises in colors I've never seen before, not to mention seedum growing on the roof as insulation.

But I've digressed again. We are still checking in. We're told about the restaurant, (4 stars we're told) and the bar, as well as the therapy pool. And then the pleasant young woman who was checking us in informed us that it wasn't necessary to dress for breakfast, just go to the restaurant in the bathrobe provided. Sounded cool to me, but Mark started bristling. We settled in our room and checked out the bathrobes. "I'm NOT going to breakfast in a dressing gown!" Mark ordered a room service breakfast without even asking me what I wanted.

What I learned from this experience:

1. My husband will not wear a bathrobe in public unless he is fully clothed beneath it.

What Mark learned from this experience:

1. If "Spa" is part of the name, it is a girly place.
2. Bars in girly places do not serve beer.

Come Back Tomorrow

I definitely prefer a non-stop flight. A flight from Dallas to London that gives you a night in a Chicago hotel is not something I want to do again. Aside from the extra expense of the hotel, you end up arriving in London around 10:30 PM. By the time you clear customs and get your car it's close to 11:30. The sensible thing to do would have been to get a hotel near the airport and order late-night room service. We did not do the sensible thing. Instead, the old git talked the old tart into driving to Essex and since the old git was doing the driving, this old tart didn't care. Although by this time, I'm pretty well hungry because the last meal served on the plane was a "snack" around 8 PM London time (which is 2 PM in Dallas and Chicago.) So I'm on the lookout for a place to eat, even a Mickey D drive-thru. But there's nothing....

So we arrived in Clacton-on-Sea, (aka the Essex Riviera) around 2 AM and went to our hotel. Our reservation wasn't until the next night, but they didn't have the "no vacancy" sign up so we thought we would just check in early. I waited in the car for Mark to check us in. He came back out and got back in the car. "What?", I said.

Mark replied, "The guy speaks very little English and he can't find our booking."

"So? Why doesn't he just get us a room and we'll sort out the booking tomorrow?"

"He says we have to come back after 7 AM when the day shift starts."

Welcome to England! We get to spend our first night in the car. We drove to the yacht club parking lot and parked so that the sun rising over the North Sea would wake us up. What we discovered is that the sun rises way before anything opens. We are now on a mission to find breakfast. But we learned something amazing. Clacton-on-Sea is a bit scruffy. We always thought it was because the people who live there take no pride in keeping it nice because there's always so much trash just thrown into the street. But what we saw in those early morning hours changed our perception. The trash bags were being opened by sea gulls! The birds were ripping the bags open and scattering trash everywhere! I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it.

We found a wonderful little Mediterranean place serving breakfast. The servings were huge (neither of us could finish) and food was delicious.


Now to retry the hotel. The best part was that when the owner heard our sad tale, he upgraded us to a room overlooking the seafront. It was a good-sized room with a balcony big enough to hold four tables and a dance band. But that actually was the best part, because the maid didn't come to tidy up the room or bring fresh towels, or clean glasses, or any of those things that maids do when you stay in a hotel.

In spite of this, we decided to extend our stay by one extra day so I went to the front desk and mentioned this. "Come back tomorrow morning," says the young man at the desk.

Maybe not.