It was no small feat if you remember correctly. I had the NW agent from hell. This lady was no picnic and it almost took an act of God to actually get my animals into the country. When I called the kennel to see if my animals had made it over to the UK I was actually shocked that they had arrived. Today was finally the day that I could go pick up Sam. I was supposed to do it yesterday, but in order to get everything accomplished to move into the house by Friday, we had to postpone. I felt like such a bad mother calling yesterday and asking Steve, the man who owns the kennel if he would mind keeping my Sammy for another night. He of course said it would be fine and actually suggested it would be better in the long run because they were expecting nasty rain the whole day at the kennel.
Today turned into a lovely drive through the countryside. The kids slept most of the way up to the kennel and we had borrowed a GPS navigation system from a guy who is going to be working in the same shop as my husband, so we had no real worries about getting lost. I got to take a few pictures of the landscape on the way up there, which I figure should keep my mother from pestering me for pictures for about a week. I kid I kid, actually she will be asking for more pictures in about three days.
This is a typical house in the area we are living in. Most of the houses around here are made from either stone or brick. They have clay shingles on them and a lot of the shingles are covered with moss. Notice that most of the shrubs are still green. You don't get that much in the states during the winter. Also notice the blue skies, you don't get that much in England during the winter.
This is one of the many churches that I saw on the way up to the kennel. I love old chruches. I think it has to do with growing up in Charleston, SC. They don't call it the "Holy City" for no reason. There are churches all over the place in Charleston, but they don't have any this old I am betting.
This is a pub that is located up the road in Lakenheath Village. It is called the Half Moon. Cute little pub. There are pubs everywhere here in England. My friend, D, was actually telling me about a place where she saw a sign that said "Pub located behind Church". Now THAT would NEVER happen in the states, EVER. Good Lord I could just see the riots taking place if that sign was posted anywhere in the Bible Belt.I have seen a few funny Inn and Pub names here as well. There was the "Farmers Boy Inn", which just kinda sounds a little dirty. Then there was "The Cock" Pub. Now that one made my husbands inner 14 year old come out. He laughed his ass off for a good 2 min after we passed that pub. Then he decided the was gonna call his pub, "The Man's Head", another play on a dirty mind here*. All I do is shake my head, cause what I am I gonna do, I married this guy.
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I have had a lot of questions asking how the girls are taking the move, well LaLa is doing alright. She misses a routine most of all I suspect. She, like the rest of us just needs her own space, her own (borrowed) bed, and a place to call her own. KiKi, well, she could care less as long as she has had a nap and has a full belly.
Everyday they fight about who gets to hit the elevator button to go downstairs.
Everyday they fight about who gets to play with what toy. And then sometimes LaLa does something strange like this:
That is a roll of paper towels and stacked on top is: a pad of post it notes, a jar of peanut butter and one of KiKi's sippy cups. Just another one of the many things that I just shake my head at and accept. She totally gets it from her father.*A lot of pubs are called things like "The Lords Head" or the "Lady's Head", don't ask me why, when I found out I will tell you. Oh and when you buy a pub, you can't change the name. They are passed down traditionally.
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