Hubbub

Today I’m staying close to the dorm after two days of cross-country travelling. We went to Oxford on Thursday to see C.S. Lewis-related stuff for the Calhoun students (I was geeking out the whole time like “Terry Jones was here!!!!”), which, I’m sorry to say, wasn't my favorite part of the trip. We saw some really cool stuff, let me say that: I was standing with my head lolled back contemplating cathedral ceilings for about half of it. But I don’t know/appreciate enough about C.S. Lewis to have my life made complete by walking up the steps to his office building at Magdalen College or eating at the pub where he got together with the Inklings. (Although it was excellent – a chicken and mushroom pie filled me up for the second time on this trip.) It was cool to see the college and the town and all, but I feel like I should have been more excited than I actually was. Or at least about the right stuff, like Lewis’ house instead of this awesome bookstore across from King’s College.

I got my souvenir, by the way – a book from the afore-said bookstore. The Way We Live Now by Anthony Trollope. I stayed up until about three the other night watching the four-hour BBC adaptation and absolutely fell in love with the story. I saw the buy-one-get-one-free copy at Blackwell’s and considered it fate.

Yesterday a friend and I planned to go back to London to see “The Taming of the Shrew” at the Globe, which meant catching a bus at 7.15 in the morning. On Thursday night I set my alarm at 5.15 just to make sure I had plenty of time, showered before I went to bed, and settled into so deep a sleep that I was dead to the world until my friend called me at 6.53 to see it I was coming. Ten minutes later I was downstairs, makeup and contacts shoved in my purse, and at 7.13 we were sitting on the bus, ready for the three-hour trek.

We were both starving when we arrived since neither of us had eaten breakfast, so we grabbed a muffin and coffee from Starbucks and sat on a ledge outside a dentist’s office, just watching the world go by.

(And what an interesting world it is too: when they say “it takes all kinds,” they mean it.)

We still had a few hours before the show, but we still had to navigate the Tube, so we bought day passes and successfully figured out which trains to take and how we would get back.

When we went to the Globe a few weeks ago, we passed this open-air market underneath a bridge, and being the open-market fan I am, I asked if we could go there.

Such places are really the crossroads of the world. They had everything: fresh fruits and vegetables, traditional English fare, freshly-made sangria, exotic meats (kangaroo meatballs and ostrich steaks, namely), fantastic-smelling fish, this Spanish stew with rice and seafood (it was beautiful) – all amid people from all walks of life, crammed together underneath a bridge in an obscure section of London. I get such a kick out of stuff like that. J

We kept going toward the Globe, grabbed lunch, and sat on a bench by the Thames until we discovered the free Wi Fi in the Globe and camped out there until the show started.

While we were waiting, I talked to an older gentleman about the theatre and Shakespeare and all. He was a patron of the theatre and really had been before the Globe was actually built in the 90s. He said that side of the river had been all warehouses for a long time, and the theatre has brought new life to the area. So cool to learn local history from actual locals. J

The production was totally different from what I thought it would. (All this exposure to Shakespeare is teaching me that his plays don’t have to be the puffy-sleeved, breeches-clad productions that you usually see: there’s such a wide range of artistic interpretations that can be done.) This was an all-female cast of about eight, so there was much switching around – “I’m this character who wears this and does this accent, but I’m also this character in this totally different persona.” It was quick, very diverse costume-wise (Grumio was in a 1930s pilot’s jumpsuit, and Gremio was in an all-white golf outfit – sweater, trousers, cap), full of random but awesome songs, and one of my favorite shows we’ve seen.

Our bus arrived back at Cheltenham around 9, and at that point we hadn’t eaten since about 11.45 that morning. So we feasted on frozen pizza, garlic bread, vegetables, and Coke, talking in our little kitchen with two other girls until nearly midnight.

We traveled a lot for one thing. I stood up during the show, so I was a little sore this morning. The day started a little crazy and ended with me passing out from exhaustion at the end. (Not literally, Ma.) But it was the best way to spend my last travel day here. The rest of the time will be spent wrapping up another section of homework for an essay and exam on Monday, packing, laundry, etc. Today there’s a farmer’s market downtown, so a friend and I are going there to try meat pies for lunch. But yesterday will stand out in my memory as my last hoorah of the trip. We were independent, smart, safe, and, above all, having a blast.

There may be one or two more blog entries about the scenery or what I’ve learned, but this will prolly be the last one I write here since the rest of the weekend will be spent working and we go home on Tuesday. If you’ve been keeping up with my escapades over the past few weeks, thank you so much for reading – I’ve enjoyed writing for you. : )

Orono

This morning started with breakfast and studying at a small coffee shop downtown, then a little bit of wandering around the shops, picking up a few things, being very independent and grown-up. Oh, and for those of you wondering about my sanity: I found a piano and was able to play for a minute. I think that'll hold me over until I get home next week. : )

At dinner a few of us were talking about going home. It'll be the same as it was before we left, we all know that. But it'll be a little different now that we've seen somewhere else. I for one am realizing (yet again) that the world is so much bigger than I imagine when all I do at home is go back and forth between home in a small town and school in a small town. There are people all over the world doing things and going places and meeting other people who are doing things and going places. If you think about it, life on this side of the world isn't much different from the side that I come from. Sure, there are little things: the roads are different and the money is a little more complicated and there are words like "kerfuffle." But yesterday I saw a mom eating breakfast with her daughter while another woman scarfed down a scone in her hurry to get to church on time. People go to the grocery store, pay their bills, do their jobs, read books on benches, wonder and dream and think about life. People all over are just trying to keep it together, raise their families, come out on top. I'm a long way from home on a very large globe, but the world isn't really as big as I think it is.

Also at dinner I was watching us sitting around and talking. There were four of the normal six who cook together at the dorm and enjoy a few hours in between classes and doing homework, and usually we'll sit around and talk for most of it. We're all part of the same school doing mostly the same thing over here, but while I'm learning about this new culture over here, I'm also getting to know the people that I get to travel with. Who are in their turn not all that different from me either. We have our dreams, our fears, our wonderings, our questions, our things that we get excited over; and each one of us is dying to share if we can just get a word in. Because we're international, our cell phones don't work, and the internet here is wireless so our computers stay mostly at our desks hooked up to the wall by a very short cable. Which means that we're actually looking at each other while we're talking. Not once did someone snort at something they'd read on their phones; at no point did one of us say, "Hang on, let me respond to so-and-so." We were sitting around a small table, in the here and now, talking and laughing about the thing we were talking about right then.

And it was awesome.

How often do I really get the chance to do that? I've already talked to a couple friends about getting together for a meal when I get home (if you're one of them, just know that I'm REALLY excited about it :D ), but those moments are usually few and far between. We have a no-cell-phones-at-the-table rule at my house, but when I eat dinner with my friends at school, when I'm riding in the car with my mom, when I'm standing around the kitchen with my brother - when do I really put down my phone, completely disconnect from CyberSpace, and focus on the flesh-and-blood people in front of me for a change? And when I finally do, why don't I recognize the awesome-ness of it and do it even more? Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm a fifteen-year-old boy who sits in the back seat and grunts in answer to questions while I'm texting somebody (.....although I do get pretty into Candy Crush when I play it). But there are so many times when I'm going somewhere with my mom and I'll be checking my Twitter while she's driving. Or I'll have my phone on the table ready to answer any texts or calls right away (not that I'm getting any, but it's there just in case I ever do). I get so focused on not missing out on what's happening online that I completely ignore the person who's sitting right in front of me.

I've been thinking a lot about what I'll take away from this trip when I head back home, and, though it's not English or literature-related, I think that disconnect will be a major thing: put down the phone and listen to somebody alive for a while.

And also, don't settle for cheap cereal. Because you'll prolly wind up with some Fiber Flakes pish and that's just no fun at all.

Wrinkles

Waking up (too early) on another beautiful day in England. Since I've officially run out of cereal in my room, I'm going down to a coffee shop for breakfast and to camp out doing homework basically all day. But I wanted to give a quick update before I sell my soul to fourteenth-century British literature.

Yesterday was, in a nutshell, a whirlwind. The trip has been organized so that if we want to go somewhere apart from the rest of the group, it's up to us to find transportation, things to do, places to eat, etc. That's a huge step in my independence, as most of my travelling has been with my family with my dad leading the way with his internal pilot GPS. But when it was suggested that we go to Bath for the day, we were responsible to figure out the train system, buy tickets, make the right connections, and remember where the train station was.

All of which we did pretty well. Win.

We left Saturday morning around 8.30 and walked (forever) to the train station, then successfully navigated the stations and switches to downtown Bath. It's an old spa town with Roman baths where people used to vacation and "take the waters" because of its health benefits. The Romans have gone but they've left a heavy Italian influence, so I had to pinch myself and remember that all of that beautiful architecture, gelato, and legit pizza was in the middle of England - we were nowhere near Italia.

It was about 11.30 when we got there, and the general agreement was that we search out FOOD. Because we are cheap (and very American), we checked out a pizza place and split two pizzas and some of the best garlic bread I've ever had. From there we hiked up to the Jane Austen museum. Darling Jane spent some time there in her youth, loved it, and actually set a few of her novels there (don't ask me to say which one because I haven't read any, I was with a lot of Austen fans and they were all geeking out over it).

Let me refer to a much older entry for a moment. I love literature. Like, LOVE IT. I will forego dinner if it means spending money on another book. And I'm alright with romances - I enjoy a good chick flick every now and then, and I've spent way too much of my lifetime watching "Say Yes to the Dress" and pinning wedding ideas on my Pinterest. But I despise....that doesn't even cover it: I abhor, detest, loathe, abominate, scorn Jane Austen's writing. I had to read Pride and Prejudice for a class, and literally it was the longest and most boring endeavor of my life. I don't have time to read about how Lady So-and-so and Mrs. So-and-so walked from this room into that one, then spent the next eighty pages in this room talking about men and money. I understand that this is a huge mark against my womanhood that I prefer Dickens to Austen, but I really don't get the warm fuzzy feeling that a lot of my friends have for Jane. I'm sure there's something to be admired in her back story, that she overcome horrible gender oppression to become this popular writer (yeah, after she died), that she's an inspiration to the hopeless romantic in all (most) of us. But I have completely missed the boat. I'll take a good comedy (Wonder Boys), adventure (Captains Courageous), romance (I appreciate Anna Karenina because it doesn't have a happy ending, it's more realistic - affairs tear families apart, that's just how it works). But I hate that description-driven, long-winded, have-some-tea-in-the-parlor-for-40-a-year nonsense.

All that to say, the museum was really cool, and we got to dress up in period clothing at the end of it. Because there should never be a point when anyone says, "I'm too old to dress up in a ridiculous costume."

This whole trip I've been dying for a milkshake (milkshakes and Reuben sandwiches are my go-to...oddly enough), so we hiked back down to the main part of Bath and drank milkshakes (actually a "gelatashake" make with gelato. Mine was tiramisu. And it made my heart sing) across from this big open square in front of a cathedral, where street musicians were performing. There was one lady singing opera a capella. To hear her voice reverberating off the walls of this massive cathedral, and to see a square full of tourists and locals sitting and listening to her...it was incredible, and I seriously could have sat there all day.

Except everyone else said "let's go look at this other Austen-related thing" and off we went again to this huge circle of apartments. Someone in a Jane Austen book ran up and down this road looking for her love, so of course we had to go see it. (My friend asked me, "So...we're going to look at a road?" For the sake of stinkin' Jane, of course we are!!) The circle was actually awesome, there was this massive grassy area in the center with trees literally as big around as a tractor-trailer. My friend and I sat looking out over this huge lawn while everybody else walked around the circle, then we sat for a while longer while half of them went to a fashion museum and the rest of us said, "No, that's alright, I'd rather not spend my money on seeing something else I hate."

.....Maybe that was just me but I may speak for some of their thoughts.

It was going on 5pm so we decided to wish Bath farewell and head back to Cheltenham. We all survived another trip on the trains and a hike back to the dorm. I think we're all pretty much unscathed, except I'm sporting a beautiful sunburn on my chest with a white stripe where my purse strap sat all day. (Ma, it doesn't hurt, it just looks bad.)

I have an exam to take tomorrow so the rest of the day will be spent reading and writing in preparation for that. Happy Sunday to my readers, love to my family, and hopefully I'll talk to some of you soon!

Bronchitis

DISCLAIMER: I don't actually have bronchitis - it just seemed to be the word of the day today.

Can you say "whirlwind." It was actually kinda nice after a few days of downtime, classes, and walking around. This morning at 10.30 we were told to meet outside our dorm and board a bus, which would take us the hour-and-a-half to Stratford-upon-Avon.

A.K.A. Bill Shakespeare's stomping grounds.

We stopped at Anne Hathaway's famous thatch-roofed cottage. No, not that Anne Hathaway, not the one that "dreamed a dream." This was also the name of Shakespeare's first wife, and her family home still stands, mostly unchanged from its original construction (minus the room additions and huge garden put in front of it).

A brief note about the British museum association: In America, most historical sites are supplemented by tacky photo ops, those machines that squish pennies for you, and gift shops. Mind you, there are a ton of gift shops here as well, but someone in charge of the British historical locations believes that the best way to add a little flair to an old dusty house or monument is to throw a garden in front of it. "Here's William Shakespeare's birthplace- Oh, and have you noticed the sprawling gardens?"

I digress.

We were cautioned not to eat a heavy lunch since we had early dinner plans in downtown Stratford, so after eating our meager granola bars and sandwiches (garnished with a ridiculously-spicy mustard - people who talk about bland English fare have apparently never had their sinuses evacuated by the mustard), we got back on the bus and drove a little farther to the Holy Trinity Church, where William Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway are buried.

Let me ramble for a second. If you've never read Ken Follet's Pillars of the Earth or Worlds Without End, or never seen the TV drama versions, you need to. Pillars of the Earth - the first in the series but the one I watched most recently - focuses on the building of a cathedral in a small English village. It covers all areas of life during the 1100s: the clergy, royalty, merchants, builders, politics - seriously, everything. Raw? Yes. Intense? Most definitely. But if you can get past all that - or even if you want to avoid the story altogether - watch the parts where they're building the cathedrals, or talking about the logistics involved. At one point, the master builder explains his beliefs to the priest he's building for:

A cathedral is God's anteroom. It's halfway to heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I watched the series in awe of the masons, the men who dedicated their very existence to creating these symphonies of stone. There was no promise of them every being finished: though it was prevented by raids and disease and poverty and scant employment, the Kingsbridge cathedral ended up taking thirty or forty years to build. But they worked anyway. They spent the whole of their days, their years, sometimes their lives constructing these monuments, many of which remain to this day.

 

As I stood in the chancel of the Holy Trinity Church, I looked at the very stones that held the walls together, the statues that looked as if they would get up and speak to you, the details on the ceiling tiles that were each handcrafted and unique. I couldn't help but think that this - this dedication to building a cathedral you may never see finished for a God that you've never seen in person and, in many cases, may not have seen His Hand at work - the building of these cathedrals was and is the highest form of worship and reverence in human history.

 

Seriously gave me chills to stand in there. Again, if you haven't interacted with Pillars in some way, do it - time well-spent.

 

After we left the Church, we were able to spend a few hours doing basically whatever we wanted around Stratford. Most of our group spread out to find shops, food, and souvenirs; but my friend and I found ourselves standing in front of the birthplace (like, original building) of William Shakespeare. After a little prodding regarding finances, we both went in, and it was considered an afternoon well-spent. When we exited the house (once again, into the garden), there were three workers dressed in period costumes, and we sat for half an hour watching them perform selections from Shakespeare's works.

 

By request.

 

Like, "Do you know Twelfth Night, why yes I do, let me start here."

 

As I said: an afternoon well-spent.

 

At 430 we were corralled for our first English high tea, which was fantastic. Sandwiches (smoked salmon is interested, yet glorious), scones with clotted cream and jam (I was told that I ate it the "right way" because I put on the cream after I put on the jam - I felt so legit), and little slices of what looked like raisin bread but were actually cakes. And, of course, tea.

 

It was a good thing we were warned not to eat a lot beforehand. It doesn't sound like a lot, but we were all stuffed afterwards.

 

The evening ended with a performance of "Hamlet" at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre Company. I swear, I've seen the most (and best) theatrical performances of my life in about a week - that doesn't normally happen but I'm so glad it's happening now! It was set in maybe the 1960s or 1970s, and it was seriously so well-done. I can't even begin to describe it, this entry would go on longer than it already is.

 

So here I am back at the room, really tired but like a "today was full and awesome" tired. Tomorrow is a homework day, because on Saturday we're heading to Bath to "take the waters." (Actually we were warned not to take the waters there anymore, so we're just going to look at Jane Austen stuff inside. Huzzah Jane.) A pip-pip-cheerio to all you back in the States, much love to my family, and hopefully I'll be able to post more when something else awesome happens. : )





 

Attempt

I don't typically write poetry. I tried it a while ago, but it all sounded stupid, so I gave it up. But this hit me a little while ago, since I've been thinking about this a lot. There's no England update today, so I thought I'd post this instead.

Oh, by the way, there's no title to it. I've found that picking a title for a piece is twice as hard as actually writing the thing.

You're doing it again.
That thing that I always hate -
When you creep into my head
And take up all the space I could be using for something else,
Something more productive,
Something less silly.

Sometimes it's the laugh I haven't heard,
Sometimes it's the smile I haven't seen,
Sometimes it's the way your fingers will link with mine.
But whatever it is -
Whenever it is -
It still unearths the same question:
Who are you?

I wonder if I've met you.
I may have known you forever and not known who you were -
What you would mean.
Or maybe you're still waiting,
Trapped in the page of the story that I haven't read yet.
In my head I imagine
What I will say when I realize
I've finally met you as you.
Probably something stupid - I usually do.

But probably I will just hold your hand,
Put my head against your shoulder.
It will be such a comfort to know you've found me.
But for now, I still sit and wonder,
Comparing everything to that thing a long time ago.
Don't judge me for that:
It seemed great at the time.

Will you watch happy movies and not find it weird when they make me cry?

Will you admit that the way I load the dishwasher is better?

Will you cry when our kids are born
And appease my late-night cravings for sandwiches?

What will make you happy?
What will make you sad?
What will make me rub your back and tell you that tomorrow is another chance?
Will you let me say that I'm terrified
Of the future - it has so many grottos and hollows
For tragedy and pain to hide.

Will you let me give up the biggest brownie,
The last slice of pizza,
The comfiest pillow in the house,
The first place in a line -
Just because I'm tickled to death
To have someone to share all that with?

Will you keep arguing with me even when I shut up?
That's the only way that we'll keep going, you know.

My world is full of mysteries right now.
I don't pretend to have everything figured out
And I won't act like it doesn't scare me.
But as far as you're concerned,
Know that I think about you a lot.
And I can't wait to meet you.

Whoever you are.

Nix the Days

I don't actually know if I should be writing, as I'm not exactly coherent. I'm currently sitting on top of my desk listening to Billy Connolly, and I'm seriously more tired than I have any right to be - today was the lightest day we've had so far. I've also lost count of what day we're on, and I don't feel like going back over and fixing the entries that I've titled wrong (...ly). So we're ditching the day numbers, combining two days, hopefully catching up on writing, and halting my lazy streak.

....Hopefully.

Friday was another orientation day, and after our two-hour session we were allowed to walk back to the dorm through the town of Cheltenham. First off, it was a BEAUTIFUL day: the sun was shining pretty enthusiastically for the first time since we'd arrived, and it was around 70 degrees.

PAUSE: We were taught to Celsius to Fahrenheit ratio. If you want to convert C to F, you take the C and divide it by 5, then multiply that number by 9 and add 32. Example: 15*C divided by 5 is 3, times 9 is 27, plus 32 is 59*F. Just in case you were curious.

Anyway.

The other bonus of Friday was that it was the once-every-fortnight (fourteen days - another English thing we've picked up) open farmers market in the middle of the promenade. There was one point when we were approaching a fruit stand and I could smell the fresh fruit before I saw what it was. HOLY COW.

The rest of Friday was spent just poking around Cheltenham: taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi in Starbucks, getting used to looking the opposite direction than the American way when we cross the street, getting sausage and mash for lunch for less than a pound, checking out the incredible three-story bookstore, picking up enough food to feed six people seven meals for less than 20 pounds. In theory we would work on homework last night to give us some time to travel and explore during the weekend, but I wound up Skyping my family and my roommate for almost four hours. Which was still pretty grand. : )

We were instructed by our professor to get out of the dorm and see things this weekend, but we started freaking out about how much homework we're facing down and how we couldn't plan a trip anymore in only a few hours to be ready to leave by this morning. So three of us chose the best of both worlds and took homework into town, starting at a small coffee shop for an English breakfast. I got black coffee, a scone, and clotted cream and jam.

It literally made me want to sing. I have never tasted anything like the cream before, and it was fantastic - combine the texture of melted cheese and whipped spread (a.k.a. fake butter), and that was the consistency of this thick cream. And the coffee was so rich on its own without any kind of added flavoring. It was, I venture to say, a beautiful breakfast.

In the middle of High Street (a major shopping street downtown), there's this awkward triangle area with a fountain next to a Starbucks. This was decided to be our study hub, and we camped out there for a few hours to do homework, get a little sunshine, watch the people, and hack the Starbucks' free internet. We went back to the dorm after a little while to do laundry and presumably get more homework done (guess how that worked out), then grabbed some really interesting smoothies for dinner. Mine had oatmeal, a banana, honey, and cinnamon. Interesting texture, but surprisingly filling and wonderful.

At 6.15 we headed out again, this time heading for one of the coolest theatres I've ever been in for its closing performance of "Beauty and the Beast." I've seen it twice before in small local theatres, and another girl with me had seen it on Broadway. But we all agreed that it was well worth the 15 pounds for nose-bleed seats. My gauge is tears: if I cry during a show, whether it be "oh my word, that's so sad" tears or "oh my word, that's so awesome" tears, it's done its job.

I cried a couple times. Mission accomplished.

When we were leaving, I realized that this was one of those rare unplanned moments that will stand out as a highlight of the trip. This morning we didn't even know that the show was being performed - we just noticed it as we were walking past the theatre after breakfast. And we debated whether or not we wanted to pay 15 pounds for a seat of a show that could be hit or miss, judging how some community theatres go. But we figured that we didn't have anything else to do for the rest of the day, it was relatively cheap for a ticket, and it was less than we were told it would be. And I realized also that if we had super-quick whipped a trip together, been gone this morning, and probably straggled back later all frustrated that we didn't plan far enough ahead of time, we completely would have missed it! Tonight was the closing performance - we wouldn't have had another opportunity to see it! It was so worth it: I would definitely count it as a highlight of the trip so far!

Tomorrow is another sit-around-and-maybe-think-up-something-to-do-but-probably-sit-around-and-do-homework day. I'm looking forward to my first official day to sleep in, and if it's open I might head downtown to a music shop where I saw a "sheet music for one pound" sign.

Because there's no such thing as too much sheet music. : )

Day 5 - Catching Up (Cheltenham Edition)

A free day in Cheltenham, so I'll try to post a few different entries about the past few days.

On Thursday we were supposed to leave the hostel at noon exactly. Some of our group decided to go fit in a little bit of sight-seeing before we left, but the rest of us took the opportunity to sleep in and take our time getting ready for the day. Around 10.30 a few of us went downstairs to grab breakfast, only to discover that the hostel wanted us out of our rooms by 11. With only four of the ten inhabitants of our room in the hostel (everybody else had gone out, thinking they had that extra hour to pack and clean up), we ran back upstairs and did a whirlwind through the room, dragging luggage down the four flights of tiny little stairs, hauling sheets and towels off beds to be taken downstairs, grabbing the other people's things and taking them loose downstairs to be distributed later.

At exactly 11, we were out and sitting in the lobby playing cards.

An hour later, our bus arrived, and we rode the two-and-a-half hours to Cheltenham.

A word about the English countryside, because we saw a lot of it. A lot of the time, it's gray - yesterday was the first day that it didn't rain. But it's not a nasty, dreary, Ohio gray. The rain makes the flowers incredible - they're so full and pretty. The grass and trees are this lush green, and the sprawling fields of color are such a huge part of the landscape that it really doesn't make you depressed that it's cloudy or rainy.

 

When we arrived in Cheltenham, we dumped our stuff in our room and had a little orientation with our English contacts who have been so helpful in getting us settled, making sure we're in the right place, and teaching us a little about English customs and culture. They gave us a little while to chill, then took us to a specifically-English dinner, as was requested by one of our profs. It was at a little place called the Carvery, and basically it's just a buffet with meat, vegetables, and Yorkshire pudding.

 

Let me just say that it was the first time on the trip that we were full. : )

 

Wednesday night was the first chance I got to Skype my family, which was fantastic. I keep thinking about my sister through all of this - it's the first time in a long time that I've travelled without her, and I wish she could see all of it, she would absolutely love it. But I got to tell her all about what was going on, she caught me up on everything happening at home, and that was so good to do. : )