Alive and well

Greyson, who lost his 1st tooth last Saturday, has made a “best friend” in our neighbourhood named Feday (not sure how to spell it but it’s pronounced “feh-day” with emphasis on the first syllable).  He’s a great kid, around 8 years old, and the two boys have been riding their bikes all over the place, running amid the gardens (yards to you Yanks) and bothering the older kids.

Yesterday as I chatted with a fellow expat named Mary Beth, Greyson proceeded to crash into a really nice black BMW sedan at mock-10 breaking the reflector light off of the front of his bike and leaving 2 big gashes in the front left panel of the shiny car. I looked at the woman, whom I’d just met and said with a bit of trepidation “whose car is this"?”

“Oh, it’s my husband’s. It’s OK as long as your son isn’t hurt!”

I proceed to apologize profusely and ask her to let me know what the damages are as I’m simultaneously willing my son not to add stress to an already stressful situation by breaking down in tears from either pain, fear, embarrassment or some combination. I’m telling you, he smoked this car hard. God smiled on me a little bit and willed Greyson to shake it off. So off he and Feday rode into the…OK, it wasn’t a sunset.  Mary Beth continued to be gracious for a few more minutes until her husband, who doesn’t yet know his car has acquired some character, called her into dinner somewhat sternly.

Fast forward about 20 minutes and the husband and his two daughters are standing in front of his car looking at it closely, rubbing the panel then looking at it again.  Greyson is still riding and he stops and the man says something to him that I can’t hear and Greyson rides off and then the man and the girls start *gasp* walking toward our house!  I’m literally in a panic in the front room picking up wayward Legos and calling frantically to Mike who is hiding (yes hiding) in the garage.  I am prepared to pay for the damages but I do not want to get scolded by a guy I’ve never met in a country I’ve only lived in for a month!

The door bell rings.  I open it and say hello.  He says (or at least this is what I think he says) “Hi, my name is Ben. I’m the guy who was yelling at your son…” but what he actually did say was “I’m the guy who was yelling at his wife to come to dinner but I just wanted to stop by and welcome you to the neighbourhood” and he hands me a bottle of wine and a bottle opener in a little gift bag and I’m so shocked all I have the wherewithal to say is “I can’t believe you’re giving me a bottle of wine after my son crashed into your car!”

10 minutes later we’re in his living room with his lovely wife sharing a bottle of wine and getting wonderful advice on life in the UK along with invitations to Legoland, the Olympics and a future dinner along with babysitting services from their very mature and polite 14 year old daughter Kathleen.

We are settling in and counting the days until our household goods arrive (into port on 10 May; pray for a quick customs process). The air shipment brought our clothing, some kitchen essentials and, of course, Greyson’s bike. The sea shipment will bring comfort that we’ve been missing since March 27th (but who’s counting?)

Here’s a few pics from recent weeks.  We’ve already had visitors and are looking forward to more. Come soon!

Graham after getting “attacked” by mud in a tree

Mike sent me an email with this picture that said “this is the life…watch the landscapers take care of the back yard while I drink coffee”.  And he says he’s bored.

And the after picture:

GRAHAM*isms*

G: (to me, while taking a bath by himself) “Pweese can u weave? I need to be awone. Pweese cwose the door”