Not wrong, just different

Bessie continues her journey. The initial excitement has worn off, and this is a week of mixed emotions. I have left unedited some politically incorrect terminology. Feb. 25th (Sunday) Had a run of 270 miles ? temperature 73 degrees. Saw the drill of all the sailors on deck, & afterwards retired to the Saloon where Divine Service was read by the Captain, followed by a discourse by a

Continuing my great-great-aunt Bessie's diary of her voyage from Southampton to Barbados, February 1883. Bessie is settling into life on board ship, and finds there is much to enjoy. Feb. 22nd Had a run of 316 miles. We passed the Western Islands about 12 o'clock last night. There was great excitement today watching a vessel, five miles off, ?homeward bound'. We have seen only two vessels

When I was at my mother's house last summer, she showed me a diary that was kept by my grandmother's aunt (is that my great-great-aunt'). It dates from 1883. One of my cousin's had typed it up, though my mother has the original. I think you'll enjoy it. Bessie and her sister Rachel (my great-grandmother) had been brought up in Edinburgh. Bessie got to know a young medical student, George, who

I don't know if you remember, but way back last August, I enrolled to do a Masters in Christian Ministry. I've just completed the first year. It's the big casualty of our move back to the UK. I would love to finish it, not only for the content per se, but also for the sense of achievement that would be. I have occasionally fantasised about graduating - gown, hat, certificate, that kind of thing -

The other day, at dinner, 11-yo stood up, in order better to access his trouser pocket, and grinning, fished a many-times-folded piece of paper out. He handed it to me, and it took a while to unpeel the layers. When I did so, I recognised the homework I'd helped him type out the night before.  Fifth Grade had been set the task of writing a poem, titled Springtime. He'd done that, and then a

Ooh, get me. Two posts in 24 hours. I just wanted to let you know that the BritMums Live ticket has been sold, to avoid any disappointment. Sorry, if you've come to my blog because you want to buy it. Here is a little clip of Garrison Keillor, speaking in 2008 (for those of you who don't know him, or indeed, for those of you who do). He's talking about writing, and oh my, if this isn't a gold

I'm not going to make it to BritMums Live (sniff) in June, as we will still be here in the US, tidying up loose ends, saying our goodbyes, and packing. So, the ticket is up for sale. I've checked, and it's fully transferable at this point. And a TOTAL BARGAIN, because it's 49.99 GBPounds, instead of 69.99 GBPounds. I bought it at early bird price, and I will sell it at early bird price. And

I thought I ought to post something so that you know I'm ok after the trauma of the tornado. I don't want you to think I've lost the plot.Speaking of which, I have read on more than one American-in-Britain expat blog how much they enjoy that phrase. 'Lost the plot'. I agree. It's a splendid phrase, and one I've stopped using since being here. I've lost the 'lost the plot'.Of course I'm also in

If ever there was a bloggable moment, this is it. It's amazing that we have power. A tornado has just come through the city, and power lines must be down all over. I'm glad we do, though. I like to connect with you all, in the stillness that has become my night.Now I really wish I'd written that blog post I've always meant to write, about what we do when there are tornadoes predicted. Then you'd

One of the hugely under-rated skills that you develop as a mother, is the multi-tasking of the mind. You have to shift gear the whole time. It's 0 to 60 in a few seconds as you grab a toddler's hand away from the fire and explain that fire burns, and then you're digging deep to answer an imponderable question like 'why is the sky so high'' a moment later. There must be some kind of mental clutch