The Number Field

Now that Downton Abbey has returned for a new season here in the UK, it seems like as good a time as any to recall our visit to Highclere Castle last spring. It’s one of the hottest tickets in the country, because of the popularity of Downton Abbey, but also because it’s only open on a very limited schedule: filming takes up several weeks, and the Earl and Lady of Carnarvon live in the Castle with their family much of the year. Jenny knew how quickly it sells out, so she checked the website almost every day until they released the Spring Break batch, then booked right away. And so, just a few days after we said goodbye to Leisa, Sam, and Vera, we found ourselves driving down the motorway again. It was a short, focused trip: we drove down one day, visited Highclere the next morning, then headed straight back home that afternoon.

From the outside, the appearance of Highclere Castle is every bit as distinctive and dramatic as it appears in the opening credits of Downton Abbey. We were lucky to visit on a beautiful, blue-sky morning, and chose to take the house tour before going to see the grounds. Although the rooms are all impressive, they aren’t quite as large as they seem to be on TV. The library and the dining room were the most familiar to me; it was clear that lots of our fellow tourists were also interested in the places where filming took place. There were lots of current family photographs on display, which is different than other grand houses that we’ve visited. This is because the family lives in the part of the home that is open for tours; much of Highclere is still in disrepair and awaiting renovation, so the family doesn’t yet have private and public sections of the house; when Highclere is otherwise occupied, they live in a nearby cottage. Downton-inspired tourism appears to be playing a significant role in saving the house, which I’m sure Lord Grantham and Lady Mary would appreciate.

After leaving the house, we took turns attending to the children’s needs and perusing the gift shop. At some point, Jenny overheard a conversation and realized that one of the participants was the lady of the house. She told Elena, who excitedly relayed this information to me just a few minutes later when it was my turn with the kids in the courtyard. Although Lady Carnarvon seemed very personable and welcoming to the tourists, we did not attempt to introduce ourselves.

We spent another little while walking the grounds, looking for the good angles to take photos of the house. Some nice women from Kansas took a picture of our whole family; she seemed very familiar with the moodiness Roman was displaying at the time. Although most of the flowers weren’t out yet in the formal garden, the wildflowers had already begun to bloom. When we turned back towards the house, Jenny and Roman took one path while Elena and I took the other. Elena was determined to be the first one to the point where the paths met up again, and made good on her promise.

As we drove off through the grounds, past Diana’s tower, I reflected on two topics. First, although Downton Abbey is set in North Yorkshire, close to where we live, to my mind the grounds of Highclere Castle bear very little resemblance to a Yorkshire landscape; I suppose that’s the kind of thing that only the small subset of people who have spent a lot of time in Yorksire would notice or care about. Second, I don’t think there’s any tourist activity more British than touring great and famous houses, including those that are still lived in.

There is nothing like seeing lambs playing in the fields. A friend commented that it’s impossible to comprehend the word frolic unless you’ve seen lambs running and jumping and playing games with their little brothers and sisters. We visited a working farm for a live lambing event in the spring, but since we went towards the end of the season, there were already lots of little ones out playing in the fields. But there were still plenty of little ones waiting to come out, and despite the prominent warning about risks to pregnant women from being in the vicinity, we all went to see what was going on in the lambing shed. There was a pen with little ones that were still to young to go out into the field, but were old enough to be held. Elena and Roman looked pretty cute smiling for pictures with soft little lambs in their laps.

Aside from lambs, the cutest baby animals on the farm were almost certainly the piglets. Their poor mother looked exhausted, lying on her side while a dozen or more little squealers all tried to suckle at the same time, jockeying for position and rolling all over each other in the process. Come to think of it, mother sheep never look delighted by their cavorting offspring, either. This may be a universal truth of parenting: no matter how cute our children are, they tire us out. No matter how much we love them, it’s hard to look on them with the same joyful adoration and excitement that an outside observer might have, because by the time they’re born, we already have a great deal of emotional investment in them, an investment that only grows with time. We’re committed to them, and they’re committed to us, bound by family ties, in good times and in bad, not just when they are at their cutest.

There comes a time when, even though it was still winter, we had to make the decision to start taking chances on outdoor activities, even if we would still have to wear our heavy coats. Just a week after Valentine’s Day we packed into the car and headed south towards Cambridge for a few days of sightseeing and tourism. As it turned out, our risk-taking was rewarded with blue skies and sunshine.

We didn’t have any grand plans, so we did what we usually did and spent a lot of time on our feet, walking around and looking at things. We visited the ancient market town of Mildenhall, but it didn’t have much going on in the open air market when we got arrived, so we retreated to a playground for a little while before proceeding towards Cambridge itself. Jenny humored my desire to see the famous Goldie boathouse, home of the Cambridge University Boat Club, which is outside of town and a little bit hard to get to, especially since we first had to find parking. It would have been nice if we had seen the varsity blue boat out on the water, preparing for the Boat Race, but it wasn’t really the right time of day. The kids and I did enjoy watching from the vantage point of a bridge above the river while one or two boats of juniors launched and rowed under us. After that, we headed into Cambridge proper, to see the beautiful architecture of the colleges of the university. We found a more lively open air market to explore, were grateful that McDonald’s bathrooms are always free, and found a funny sculpture to pose with.

At some point, I had decided that it would be fun to rent a boat and take the family punting. Jenny encouraged the idea because it’s the quintissential Cambridge activity. Unfortunately, when we got to the rental dock we were told that the winds were too high to let us operate a boat ourselves, although they were still offering guided punt tours. Since that’s both less fun and more expensive, we decided not to do it; I hope that we didn’t pass up our only opportunity to punt, but I think it was a safe risk to take. Instead, Elena and I tried to find our way to the Mathematical Bridge by wandering through the college that it belongs to, but couldn’t find any open doors or free passageways in the right direction after the first courtyard. Luckily, we had better luck finding the way back to the car, because we were all tired and ready to get back to the hotel.

On our way home the next day, we decided to find an activity that would be more kid-centric, and we found a well-reviewed farm park that didn’t seem to be too far out of the way. It was a big hit. Roman and Elena were immediately drawn to the bouncy pillow, even though it was the first time they had seen something quite like that; most of the time giant inflatables playthings have walls. It was really fun to watch Elena and Roman bounce; they were helping each other stand up when they fell down and generally getting along very well. We eventually pulled them away from that so we could see the farm half of the farm park. There were small animals in one little house, mostly rabbits, along with larger ones, horses and sheep, in a barn. But the most impressive specimens were the pigs, in a fenced in area further away, past a pond where the ducks were too fat and happy to be interested in our offerings. The alpha pig was so impressively big, dirty, and grotesque; it was the essence of pig-ness. Unlike the ducks, it was willing to fight with its sty mates for every last nugget of pig food we dropped behind the fence. After that, we joined the rest of the guests at the hen house, where Elena and Roman each got to reach in and pull out freshly laid eggs. After a few rounds on the slides and swings, then a final session on the bouncy pillow, we said goodbye to the farm park and returned home, after a nice trip with something for everyone.

After a very long day of travel we arrived at our accomodations—a room in an apartment that had been converted to a miniature B&B. We opened up our window and realized that the dome we could see in the distance belonged to St. Peter’s Basilica. It appeared to float above the Vatican walls, lit up brightly against the darkening twilight. After a long car ride, a flight, a bus ride into the center of Rome, and a metro ride towards Vatican City, all punctuated by tiring walks laden down by our luggage, we were happy to find that we had picked out a good place to stay, with friendly hosts and a great view. To top it off, our hosts recommended a nearby restaurant that was truly excellent.

This was the first of two international trips we took during the third trimester of Jenny’s pregnancy. She was worried about whether she would be able to enjoy it, but we had a good reason for going when we did. My father, the Director of Bands at Towson University, had planned a tour of Italy for the Symphonic Band during their spring break. My mother and my uncle and aunt were also going on the trip, and we wanted to see them while they were on the same side of the Atlantic ocean. Besides, Jenny is always happy to have an excuse to visit Italy. It was a short trip for us, with just two full days in the country, but we tried to make the most of it.

On the first morning we walked down towards the main entrance of Vatican City before returning to the entrance of the Museums for our scheduled time slot. The tourist trade in the area was something to behold; there aren’t many places in the world that have enough foot traffic to attract immigrant vendors selling knockoff purses, sunglasses, street art, and all the other popular trinkets of the day. In addition, there were lots of microentrepreneuers working the long lines waiting for entrance to the museums, offering upgrades and immediate entry. We mostly ignored them, but I decided to have a little fun with a particularly aggressive one: I addressed him in Russian and said I didn’t speak any English, but he was ready for me! On the reverse side of his clipboard was a Russian language listing of his offers and prices, and he even spoke a little bit of the language. I hope it was enough for him to understand when I said we already had tickets.

The Vatican Museums are pretty amazing in their own right, but they aren’t really the main attraction. We tried to appreciate some of the works of art and history as we made our way toward the Sistine Chapel. Elena and I enjoyed looking at the tapestries and deciphering the scripture stories that they depicted. It was pretty confusing when we saw some that had images from Greek mythology instead of the Bible. According to Find my Friends, we were in the museums at the almost the same time as my family and the band, we never quite found them. We eventually made our way into the crowded Sistine chapel and looked up at the iconic frescoes. Elena and Roman were both reasonably polite and quiet, even though they were getting tired and Elena wanted to continue learning about the subjects of the painting. I paused for a moment to think, as I tend to do in such situations, about how odd it is that our children have already been so many places and seen so many things, and wonder what they’ll remember about their childhoods when they grow up. After the Sistine Chapel there are several more halls of historical artifacts, but we hurried through them in search of a bathroom and snacks; we all needed a break.

We weren’t sure when we would meet my parents, so after the museum we took comfort in lunch at Burger King. I eventually got in touch, and we arranged to meet near the Piazza San Pietro. Elena and Roman were so excited to see them! We toured the Basilica, then made the short walk to the Castel Sant’Angelo, also known as the Mausoleum of the emporer Hadrian, famous in our part of the world for the wall that defined the northern border of his empire. We didn’t know much about the history of the castle, we just knew that it had park area in what used to be the moat, where we were lucky to find a playground. Eventually, my parents had to head back to meet up with their group, but we made plans to meet the next morning at the Colosseum.

I had promised Jenny that we wouldn’t have to walk all the way back to our hotel, and I thought I could fulfill that promise by taking us to the nearest metro stop. Unfortunately, my distance estimate was completely off—as it turns out, our hotel was closer than the metro stop even if we had taken the most direct route, which we didn’t. No matter how hard I try to avoid it, every trip we take it seems like I manage to force us to take at least one long walk when we’re all very tired. And yet this trek, like previous ones, did have some redeeming qualities: we followed the river for a little while and watched a sculler pass by, I was very distracted when we stumbled upon the amazing open air art museum of Fausto Delle Chiaie, and we took a break to watch the street performers and giant bubble artists in the beautiful Piazza del Popolo.

On the following day, we got to join the band for a tour of many of the main sights of ancient and modern Rome. Their tour operator had arranged for Paolo, a trained tour guide and art historian by education, to be their guide, and we got to tag along for the whole day. We thought we might just go along for the morning, but it was so engaging and Jenny had enough energy that we stayed with them for the whole day. The tour started in the Colosseum, where Elena and Roman found lots of places to climb and jump, and found out how fun Great Uncle Mark could be, then proceeded through the forum. We paused for a while to talk about the responsibilities of the Vestal Virgins, which brought up some long forgotten memories from my high school Latin class. After ascending out of the forum via a long, steep stairway, we were happy to find out that we would be allowed to join the group on the bus ride over to the Trevi Fountain, where we would take a lunch break and then resume the tour in the afternoon.

In the afternoon, after throwing coins into Trevi Fountain to ensure that we would someday return to Rome, we did our best to see the rest of the sights, just in case we didn’t. We walked by the Spanish Steps, the Piazza Colonna and the Prime Minister’s residence, then on to the Pantheon and then the last destination of the day, the Piazza Navona, where we marveled at the fountains and perused the art market. After a long wait, we took Elena to a souvenir shop where she was allowed to spend some of her own money. We let her choose for herself, and even though we advised her to pick something that would remind her of this trip and this place, she bought a couple of shiny little bracelets. Evening was already setting in, so we spent another pleasant hour with my parents, wandering through the alleys and back streets in the area, eventually finding a store where my father bought some Italian candy to take to people back home. And then we had to say goodbye, with the promise that we would see them again soon. That evening, we had an amazing pasta dinner at a tiny little restaurant. The next day, we endured another long travel day as we returned home, full of memories of Rome and Grandma and Grandpa.

Although school here is on more of a year round schedule than in the US, we are now in the midst of the longest break of the year, the six week summer holiday. Elena has finished Reception (Kindergarten) and will start Year One (First Grade) when she goes back to school in September. As a part of their summer activities, Jenny inspired Elena to take pictures of all the projects and drawings she’s created over the past year, whether at school or at home. They’ve kept the hard copies of the very best, but the rest will live on in digital form only. Elena loves taking pictures of things; we’ve let her take ownership of an old digital camera; and has really enjoyed starting this digital archive. And Jenny has achieved her intended goal of a significantly de-cluttered craft room.

I’ve picked out some of my favorites for the slideshow, from the painted rainbow to the pictures of her and Roman and us. The wolf visor originally entered our home along with three little pig hats; during one Family Home Evening we acted out the story while wearing the hats. I think my favorite might be the rowboat. There were empty seats for Roman and me; when Elena first showed it to me she was very excited about adding us in, but it never quite happened. I’ll hope to make it on the boat next time.

For nearly as long as I can remember, I’ve thought of the end of the first week of August as an inflection point between the seasons of summer and fall. It’s about equally spaced between the summer solstice and the equinox, but more importantly, it seems that wherever I’ve lived, whether that’s Russia, Texas, Maryland, or England, it’s when the first hint of fall shows up in the air. I felt the same thing a few days ago, and it reminded me that I still haven’t written about some of the distinctly autumnal events of last year.

Although we were in Ibiza on the last day of October, we were still able to celebrate a traditional Halloween with all of the other Americans from work. Elena dressed up as a fairy, and Roman got to be Thomas the train. Having experienced the Halloween celebration previously, we knew how crazy it would be at the party in the gym, so we went in with just one goal: to get the childrens’ faces painted, even if it meant enduring a long queue. Unfortunately, I was absent for much of the evening as I tried to get a dental problem taken care of; it wasn’t much fun for me or for anyone else. I did get that resolved by the appointed time for trick or treating to begin, so I was able to participate in that part. This was the first year that Roman really understood what was going on. He did a good job of saying his line, and by the end of the night I didn’t even have to remind him to say “Thank you” at every door. Elena wanted to go at a somewhat faster pace, so Jenny went with her, and they also had a good evening.

As I mentioned previously, the British celebration that nearly coincides with Halloween is Bonfire Night or Guy Fawkes Night, when Guy Fawkes is burned in effigy, because of his involvement in the Gunpowder Plot. In Elena’s school class, “Holidays and Celebrations” was a major theme of their first term. One day at dinner, when we asked Elena about what she had done in school that day, she told us the complete and very detailed story of Guy Fawkes and the Gunpowder Plot. It was very impressive, but at the same time it seemed strange that the teachers had discussed serious and violent things so plainly with kindergarten students.

Our Thanksgiving was memorable, but mostly in bad ways. The best part was that I got to go to Elena’s class on Thanksgiving morning to give a brief presentation on this very American holiday. In addition to talking about the history and the Thanksgiving meal, I showed some pictures from when Elena was a baby and we went to New York for the parade. After that, things went swiftly downhill, due largely to a stomach bug that swept through our family. Jenny wasn’t feeling well, so she stayed behind while we went over to the home where we had been invited to share Thanksgiving dinner. At the very moment that someone opened the door to welcome us in, Roman was violently ill all over himself and their entryway. Despite this, they insisted that we not go home, and I was glad that we stayed. The food was really good, and the rest of the afternoon passed without incident. We had offered to host a second Thanksgiving dinner the next day, because one of our friends had to work on Thanksgiving. Everything was fine until both Roman and Elena graphically demonstrated that the illness had not yet run its course. It really took the air out of the festivities; our guests left as quickly and politely as they could. We felt terrible, but that seems to be the way with Thanksgiving—most years it’s wonderful, but once in a while it’s a real turkey.

Every once in a while, I check the websites of few favorite performers, including hers, in the off chance that tour schedules will bring them close enough that we can attend a show. The last time I did this, deep in the depths of last winter, I was amazed to find that Dar Williams would be performing in York, only half an hour away from us, on our anniversary. I have been a fan of hers for a long time, ever since the beginning of college, and Jenny has been a fan since about the time we started dating. When we were newly wed, we attended a concert of hers in Austin. It didn’t take much to convince Jenny that this was what we should do to celebrate our special day.

In Texas where we were married, at the beginning of March the short winter is already a distant memory, but here in Yorkshire the days are still short, the weather is still cold and wet, and spring is just a hope, not an imminent reality. Despite the differences in conditions, when we left the children with a trusted sitter and climbed into the car, I felt a renewal newlywed excitement and sense of adventure. When we got to the venue and found parking, Jenny unveiled a surprise—a beautiful cake, perfectly suited for the two of us, especially since the proportion of frosting to cake was heavily weighted towards frosting. We had a little taste before we left the parking lot.

The concert venue wasn’t easy to find; we eventually figured out that we could access it through a basement entrance in a nondescript municipal building. Judging from the fact that the stage had a waist-high railing all the way around, we figured that folk pop performers and audiences were somewhat out of the norm for the venue. The few chairs that were around were already filled when we arrived, but we found a little stair step at the edge of the room where we could sit; most of the audience (probably between 50 and 100 people) found little spots like this.

Not too long after we got comfortable, Malojian, an Irish duo, came on stage for their set. I’m not much of a music reviewer, but I liked them; their music was sweet and mellow. For me, the most memorable moment was when the lead singer talked about how he was the father of a young child, and how that influenced his songwriting; then they played a new song about bath time.

Although the audience was polite and appreciative of Malojian, it was clear that they were really there for Dar. When she showed up on the stage, a large number of people moved from the back of the ground right up to the edge of stage—maybe the protective railing was necessary after all! As much as the fans loved her, she loved them right back. It seemed like she recognized people from previous visits to this area. She even said that, due to some special requests, she had been persuaded to go into her back catalog and play some songs that she doesnt typically include in her current repertoire. Although she had been working on remembering all the lyrics, she asked for us to help in case she got lost.

It was a great show, a good mix of classics and new material, with lots of stories and commentary gluing everything together. As with any good folk concert, she invited us to sing along a couple of times; Jenny might have thought I was going a little overboard during The Ocean, and possibly gave me some funny looks when she noticed me really into it, singing along under my breath to some of the other songs.

After the performance, Dar and the guys from Malojian came out to meet the fans. Jenny and I were just sort of waiting off to the side when Dar appeared right next to us. We said hello; her first comment was to congratulate Jenny on the pregnancy and wish us luck. She may have been a little surprised to hear our American accents; we made a little small about how, like her, I had gone to college in New England, and about our family now. We didn’t want to monopolize her time—the next people in line took a picture of us with her and then we headed back to our delicious anniversary cake, which we ate as we drove home. It was a great date, and a great night out together. I’m looking forward to many more years of love and adventure with Jenny!

One thing about living in a foreign country (especially a smallish one like the UK) is that whenever family members visit the country for any reason, they’ll make an effort to come visit us as a part of the trip. Jenny’s brother John travels for work, and occasionally makes it to England. We’ve been lucky enough to have him visit twice in the year that we’ve been here; once at the beginning of winter, then again in the spring. On both occasions he sacrificed time with his family by delaying his flight home until the end of the weekend instead of the beginning, so we wanted to make the most of our time with him.

During John’s winter visit we wanted to do something warm, so we took him to the York Chocolate Story. It’s more of an interactive experience than a museum—a guided tour of the history of chocolate, focusing on the innovations and contributions of the companies in York that were and still are key players in the world of chocolate. Although there were opportunities to sample different candies throughout the tour, the best part was at the end, after the historical part of the story was over. First, our tour guide taught us to taste chocolate like a professional taster. Then we each decorated a chocolate lollipop with whichever of the numerous available toppings caught our fancy. Finally, we watched real chocolatiers make ganache filled chocolate candies; they let us take as much as we wanted for samples on the spot, and to take home and eat later. They made it look so easy that we were inspired to try making chocolate candies, but although we’ve acquired the supplies, we haven’t yet carried out our plans in that department.

In addition to the Chocolate Story, we showed John some of the standard sights of York, which date all the way back to Roman times, and had lunch at a pretty good burger joint. In the evening John spent a lot of time with Elena and Roman, playing and reading and making life easier for Jenny and me. Then after they went to bed, we got our turn with him, to catch up on all the news about his family and our mutual acquaintances back in Texas. We appreciated the visit, and hope that he didn’t mind coming to see us.

During the last few weeks of pregnancy, because there is so much uncertainty about when the baby will actually arrive, Jenny is always grateful to have fun things on the calendar with set dates, to mark the passage of time in a more orderly fashion. This time, the last thing on her schedule before Kate’s due date was Aunt Terry’s visit. She and her husband Gary had planned a vacation to London and Paris, and carved out a day to head north to see us. I had never met Aunt Terry before, but Jenny had told me some stories; it was nice to finally get to know her, even if it was only for a few hours. We had lunch together and went for a drive through the beautiful Yorkshire countryside, but mostly just spent the time talking and enjoying the good company. Elena and Roman were, as always, excited to have new people pay attention to them, especially people who brought them presents.

After Baby Kate arrived, our first family visitor was Uncle John, who was again area as part of a business trip through Europe. If it’s even possible, Elena and Roman were even more appreciative of his presence and attention this time around, since Jenny and I were spending so much time on Kate’s needs. Even though Jenny was still recovering from the birth, she didn’t want us to just sit around the house during our visit, she wanted to get out and do things. We had a great meal at Betty’s and then took a nice walk around town, looking for all the yellow bikes and other Tour de France decorations. The next day we headed out to Brimham Rocks for a hike. I carried Kate in the tummy pack, and even though it was a misty gray day, she slept peacefully through our whole walk. John had to leave early the next morning to make the long trip back to his own family, but we were all very glad that he came. Living so far away from everyone, it’s so good to see family members, even on short visits.

Jenny already wrote about the main part of our summer trip to Germany, but the trip there had its own share of adventure. After looking at the map and considering options, we decided that we absolutely had to visit Neuschwanstein Castle, the stunning hilltop dwelling of King Ludwig II, perhaps best known now as the inspiration for the Sleeping Beauty castle at Disneyland. In the planning phase it all seemed reasonable: take the overnight ferry to Belgium, then drive through the day and arrive in late afternoon, given the eight and a half hours of travel time promised by Google Maps. What could possibly go wrong?

As it turns out, an accumulation of little things led to us speeding down an autobahn in the fading light, afraid that we wouldn’t make it to our alpine hotel before the front desk closed for the night. That, and the fact that what we considered speeding was probably considered too slow by most of the drivers on the road. It all started when we drove off the ferry, not quite as early as we would have liked, but still too early to find breakfast anywhere near the port—the place I had looked up ahead of time was closed—and ended up eating from the back-up supplies that Jenny had packed. We got reaccustomed to driving on the right side of the road, and managed not too make too many bad turns before making the next critical decision: lunch in Luxembourg, City, even though it wasn’t along the shortest route.

From the small amount that we saw of it, Luxembourg seemed like a very nice place. Even though we ended up eating at a burger joint, the central shopping and dining area had lots of nice restaurants and cafes. Elena and Roman had fun dancing to the live music from the bandstand on the squre. We got to see some pieces from a Elephant Parade public art exhibition/charity fundraiser. It was also the first time we saw “levitating” street performers (the secret is a steel frame), which was incredible if only for its novelty. After lunch, we fulfilled our promise to let Elena and Roman enjoy the amazing pirate ship playground we had spotted on our way into town.

By the time we pulled across the border into Germany, we were already aware that there was a time crunch, even though we had hours left to drive. We still had some fun along the way, like when we finally made it to the autobahn and pushed Jenny’s Civic up above 100 miles per hour for what was probably the first time ever, on a long straight stretch with a slight downward slope. Even at top speed, we had to drive in the slow lane and marvel at the speedy cars passing us like it was nothing. We didn’t even stop for dinner; Jenny dug into our supplies and made peanut butter and Nutella sandwiches. When we turned off the autobahn the light was already fading, so we had to wait until the next morning to marvel at the grand alpine vistas surrounding the foothill town where our hotel was located.

We visited Neuschwanstein Castle the next day. It was stunning from the first moment that we saw it, sitting high up on the mountainside, but it became clear that it would take some effort to get up there. Luckily, we had pre-ordered tickets and were able to bypass the long ticket line. With plenty of time before the start of our tour, we worked together to make it all the way up the long hike to the top of the hill. We even had enough time to enjoy the view and share a Bavarian pretzel once we made it to the castle entrance.

Due to King Ludwig’s early and untimely death, only a small number of rooms of the castle were ever finished. However, the ones that are there are done are spectacular. It may have been the first time that Elena really got into examining the walls and ceilings, asking me about the stories that were portrayed in the artwork. Unfortunately, my knowledge of German myths and legends is a bit weak, as I’m not a student of Wagner, but we tried to put the pieces together.

After our tour, we made our way up to the bridge overlooking the castle. It was crowded with people, and for good reason—it was a perfect day for photos. We squeezed our way onto the bridge to take a few snapshots and drop some rocks into the stream far below, then headed back down to the village below. After a lunch of German sausages, Jenny went off to the shops while Elena, Roman and I rested and watched the ducks by the lake. When we saw clouds moving in, we hurried back to the car and made it just in time, before a truly epic thunderstorm began.

That night we had our first schnitzel, dining at the hotel restaurant. The next morning as we packed up, we couldn’t find one of the pacifiers and had to leave it behind. After that frustating experience we instituted the strict pacifier rules—Roman was only allowed to have it at night—eventually this regime helped us to finally wean him from the pacifier for good. But at the moment, it was an unwanted frustration just when we needed to be on our way. Unfortunately, our trip that day took much longer than we would have liked, since apparently a little bit of rain can cause traffic to grind to a halt, even on the autobahn. In the end, it was one more new experience that helped us realize that no matter where we go, everyone is pretty much the same.

Elena had been talking about her own birthday party ever since Roman’s last August. On an almost weekly basis she announced to me new school friends she would like to invite. And of course, she had waited in great anticipation as her school and church friends have celebrated their own birthdays. So, when I told her it was time for us to start planning her party, she was ecstatic.

February in Northern England is cold, so after looking at other possibilities, we decided we could hold the party at our house. I decided that 15 kids would be more than enough to fill the house (especially considering the likelihood that many of their parents would also stay for the party). When it came time to make the list, there were a couple more she wanted to add, and then we remembered we had left out some good friends so they were also added. In the end, we handed out 20 invitations and it was exciting to have so many friends to invite. After the invitations were handed out and before the date of the party Elena tried to add more people. Basically, she wanted everyone in her school class and the rest of her grade (they do a lot of activities together but 40 kids is too many!) and attempted different strategies to try to convince me to send another wave of invitations. I held strong to our original cap of 20.

On the day of the party a large sign on the front door welcomed our party guests. Mark and I had been up late the night before setting up decorations, completing the cake, and moving things around. The party went great! We had a face painter in the front room, we decorated cupcakes with frosting and sprinkles in the craft room, and downstairs Mark led a paper airplane activity: first the children constructed and decorated the planes, then guided them through an obstacle course. Of course, in between these activities the kids did plenty of playing and running around. We managed to successfully gather the kids before lunch and got them to sit still long enough to get a picture. Then we served kid favorites: hot dogs, chicken nuggets, fruit cups, chips, and Capri Suns. I worried that we wouldn’t have seats for everyone, but hoped they would be happy to sit on the floor, and they were! After lunch the kids raced up and down the stairs following clues for a treasure hunt set by the fairies, in pursuit of their party bags. We had just enough time to sing Happy Birthday and eat cake before parents started showing up and everyone headed home. Even though they had a lot of fun, the children seemed surprised that we didn’t play any of the standard party games, like Pass the Parcel or Musical Statues. It was a great morning and we had lots of fun, but I was exhausted by the time everyone left!