Dad

This is going to be my only post for a few weeks. I'm in Utah with my parents helping with my dad during his final few days. He's been sick (cancer) for so long that I can only be glad for him that he'll soon be released from the terrible pain he's in, but it's also hard to see him go. He's such a phenomenal person, and he's run a fantastic race. Honestly one of my favorite people ever, he will forever be one of my true heroes. I'm so grateful to know that this life is not the end, and I'm looking forward to seeing him again some day. I can only hope that I go home having lived as well as he has. I love you, Daddy.

Well, that explains a lot...

So, we found out today what tax bracket we are in here in the U.K.

Drum roll please...our tax bracket for our income is...67%. Yes, you did read that right, that is 6 7 !!! A six and a seven, my friends.

Wow, where's the incentive to work if you have to give 67% of it right back?!!?

HOLY COW, BATMAN!

Better than being outside in the dark...

Well, I found out what it feels like to be completely petrified this week.

Jess and Aubrey stayed after school for art club and then took the “late bus” home for the first time. Since it was the first time any of our children had taken the late bus, Laurel and I walked down to the drop-off point in Ruislip and arrived about 10 minutes before the bus was supposed to come so that we could be there when it arrived. Then we waited, and waited, and waited. Twenty minutes after the bus should have arrived and it hadn't I was concerned; after 30 minutes I was getting pretty worried, and after 45 minutes I was panicking. We don't live in Colorado anymore, you know?!!? There was no one answering the phone at the school, and I didn’t know what to do.

After praying for calmness, inspiration, and a ton of help, I called the owner of the bus company, who assured me that the girls had taken the bus home but said that he was pretty sure they had gotten off in a different city. He then called the driver to try to figure out where the girls might be. The driver thought they got off in Ichenham, the next city over, but couldn't be 100% sure. (The owner sure was sorry for the mixup, though, and wanted us to call and let him know when we found them.)

To make it worse, the girls really had no clue where they were or where we live in relation to the school. They had no money and no phone, and they truly had no way to get in touch with me or their dad. I hadn't prepared them for getting lost, you see, since riding the school bus home is supposed to be safe.

Anyway, by this time it was very dark and over 1 ½ hours since I was supposed to meet them at the stop in our city. I felt completely panicked, hopeless, and simply terrified, praying that we could find them and that they were both alright. London is a pretty big city for a 14-year-old and an 11-year-old to be lost in, you know!

To make a long story short, we drove over to the next city where the bus driver thought they might have gotten off and simply started driving around, hoping we'd find the girls. And we did find them. We all stood there hugging on the side of the road, and the girls were both crying and hanging onto all of us and saying repeatedly how scared they were, how hard they’d been praying, and how good it was to see us. With as scared as I was, I can only guess what it must have been like for them!

I'm telling you all this because it was terrible, but it's now a part of our London experience. AND, as unpleasant as all that was (and especially now that it's over), there is always a funny side, right? The proud winner of the comical line for this event was Aubrey. Everything even the slightest bit challenging now elicits the following response from her: “Hey, it’s better than being outside in the dark.” I like it; maybe it should be our family motto…

What was THAT?

So that's what an earthquake feels like. Interesting!

Just in case the earth-shaking news isn't as big everywhere else as it is here, we had an earthquake last night. The biggest here since 1984, it measured 5.3 on the richter scale. Just before 1:00 in the morning, we heard a loud noise and the bed shook for about 10 seconds. I thought that the wash load downstairs was imbalanced, and I was grateful that it rebalanced itself nicely and we didn't even need to go downstairs to right it before going back to sleep.

Come to find out it was really an earthquake, not just an English appliance! Who knew? I always thought earthquakes would be, well, more dramatic or something. I guess I should be grateful it wasn't stronger...

You can read all about it if you want:

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/article851794.ece?CMP=KNC-powersearchSEM1&HBX_PK=earthquake

And the adventure continues! Cool.

Jessica's News and More About the U.K.

Our sweet Jessie is going to go to Scotland before any of the rest of us. She tried out for an international honor choir and was selected, and the concert is in Aberdeen, Scotland, in May (on Dad's birthday). There will be kids there from international schools from all over the world (Japan, Europe, etc.), and it was a real privilege for her to be chosen. She'll fly out on a Wednesday, spend Thursday and Friday in rehearsals, and then the concert is Saturday. She is busy learning her music and is extremely excited about the trip, and we're sure proud of her. Good job, Honey! (One pleased mom...)

(Jess says that I'm supposed to tell you that this picture of her was taken right after a play and that she doesn't usually wear this much makeup. Besides, her mother wouldn't let her past the moat that heavily made up!)

Our friend, Nelly, asked in an email a few days ago what it's REALLY like over here, what has surprised us, etc. So, here's my answer.

England's biggest surprises for this very American girl:

1. I knew it would be expensive, but I had no clue HOW expensive. I have no idea how people survive over here on regular salaries (which also explains the fact that there are no big families--you couldn't afford to feed more than a kid or two). The taxes are pretty surprising, too. The TV tax (which you pay just for having one in your house) is about $275 a year. Our council tax (the same as property taxes but whoever lives in the house pays it, owner or not) will be $4800 for the year, and everyday living expenses like utilities are about double. Gas is about $9 a gallon, so you drive as little as possible, but it also means paying about $100-$200 a month for public transportation. Our car was pretty reasonable (about $6000 for a minivan with about 60000 miles on it), but I hear that the inspection and annual renewal are pricey. We'll know the exact damage in May. Groceries are about twice as expensive. Our house is 2200 a month, which is approx. $4400, and it's certainly not a mansion. Etc., etc., etc. I just try not to think about it and move on.

2. It seems SO foreign here, even though everyone (theoretically) speaks English. I know, I know, it's a foreign country, but still... They even have a completely different vocabulary, and I have actually run into people who I'm pretty sure were speaking English but I had absolutely no idea what they were saying. Everything is on a much smaller scale, too. The cars, streets, houses, grocery stores, etc. are simply all MUCH smaller than what we're used to. They call it "English Scale," but I call it frightening when you're trying to drive down a street and not knock off the mirrors on your car on a "street" originally intended for carts and buggies with cars parked down both sides...

3. The actual logistics of everyday life are surprisingly different. The washer and dryer fit so few clothes that I'm constantly washing (no exaggeration) and always behind on wash. There is extremely hard water here and limescale builds up on everything, so you have to do crazy things like add salt to your dishwasher and anti-limescale tablets to each washload. It makes cleaning very challenging. The houses have overly-clever yet surprisingly-ineffective appliances (like the shower, which has a heater that is a box that just hangs on the wall and the water runs through it to be heated). But the houses also have hundred-year-old technology (our kitchen sink empties straight out a hole in the back of the house, into a PVC pipe, and into an open drain). I also never realized how convenient Walmart and Target are! You can't just go to one store here and get everything you need; you have to go to several little shops and get a few things each place and hope the next store has what you need. (And, don't be expecting any choices--if you need socks and you find some, BUY THEM, argyle or not!) Then you have the added challenge of getting whatever you bought back to your house if you took the train or battling the traffic if you drove. Also, you need to just buy and eat what is available in the grocery stores and shouldn't go searching for American products, even if another expat tells you where to find them. Chances are that if you drive the crazy distance to the store, there will only be a very few, extremely expensive products (the boxes of Lucky Charms I found Friday but did not buy were the equivalent of $16 a box--no cereal is worth that!). Then once you have your food, you have a miniature fridge and freezer (think dorm fridge) to try to find space to fit it in, which means you have to frequently repeat the food shopping trauma.

4. Nothing over here is designed for a family with several children--cars, restaurants, etc. Though everyone seems to think that our family is wonderful, they ALL comment on how big it is and how surprising they find it. I think it's funny, coming from a family with eight children and our five not seeming like very many, but I can see where they're coming from. It's true that nobody has big families, but again I think it's due to the cost of living more than anything. People in Italy were also equally shocked/impressed by the size of our family and kept telling us how beautiful our family is. Our cab driver was very happy with having seven people to charge for...

5. Church is interesting. It's completely the same (doctrine, meetings, etc.) but also totally different. The whole stake seems to be about the size of a ward needing to be split in the states. Our ward has around 100 people on Sunday. We've got members from all over the world, but a great deal of the members are actually from Africa. Because there are so few people, they are thrilled to have new families. They've been pretty friendly, but we haven't really made any friends in the two months we've been here. We spend Saturdays sightseeing and have been so busy that I haven't minded, but it would be pretty discouraging under other circumstances. We do have the missionaries over for dinner on Sundays, though, and that's been nice. The primary has about 20 kids, and there are around 6 young women and a few more young men. There also isn't any scouting program, which really bugs Kyle. He was just put in the young men's presidency, and I am teaching primary and am the "activity planner" for all primary activities. Strange. All in all, church is fine, but it sure is different.

6. Even the clothes are different. The women do not wear jeans, except the most young, hip, daring ones. (I'm mostly used to the staring, seeing that that's all I wear because that's all I own.) Most women wear polyester trousers (dress slacks) almost exclusively. They also wear a lot of leggings with boots and long sweaters and tunics. Always a child of the eighties, I think it's kind of fun, but I realize it would be less-than-fashionable in the states. Monica says that I'm not allowed to come back wearing leggings and long sweaters, but I'm holding out for the boots being acceptable. Even the names for items of clothing are different; pants are called "trousers" because boy's boxers are called "pants," and girl's panties are called "knickers." Even diapers aren't "diapers," they're "nappies." (I learned the names for pants because the school nurse and I had a tragically funny conversation during which we briefly couldn't understand each other when she called to tell me that one of our children had had an accident and needed a change of clothes; she was being very careful to phrase the problem in the most politically-correct way, and it made it so that I had no clue what she was saying the child needed.) Our next necessary clothing purchase (well, for the girls at least) is going to be a pair of "Wellies" for everyone. "Wellies" are "Wellingtons," basically irrigation-style boots that people wear here any time they need to do any walking in the sogginess, which is pretty much any time they need to do any walking. They come in interesting patterns, too, instead of only army green. Being from Idaho and having grown up wearing irrigation boots, Kyle finds it odd to see girls wearing irrigation boots as a fashion statement; go figure! If you want to go walking in the mud, I guess it's "when in London;" just don't necessarily plan on wearing your new wardrobe additions when you get back!

7. Soccer, er, football really is that big over here. People follow their team with enough enthusiasm to put even the most avid Cowboys fan to shame. Life revolves around the game, and not having a team that you're passionate about is completely incomprehensible to most Brits.

All that said, I'm still so grateful to be here. It's beautiful and exotic and amazing,and the child from Oregon in me even loves the weather. Every time someone finds out we're from the states and says, "Oh, you must not like our dreary, grey weather at all," I think, "I love it--so calm and serene and beautiful." I still feel like we've been admitted to a "Cool Life Experiences 101" course for a year. The adventure is exciting, and all of the new experiences we're having really are quite interesting. Even having a conversation with someone in which you completely don't understand one another teaches you something. It really does put your life into perspective to see what else is out there, to experience first-hand how other people live their lives, to begin to understand that your way is just one way and it's not necessarily "right," and to find out what does and what truly doesn't matter in life, despite what you thought you knew. I find myself thinking constantly about our ancestors that left this area to go to America and then cross the plains with the pioneers. What a shock they must have had when they got to our wild frontier!