This is the trip that was supposed to take place during the week of the "Premier Mars" holiday (Neuchatel's peasant uprising), whereupon I thought I hadn't left enough time to renew Allie's passport. During renewing of his passport, we experienced impossibly fast international mail delivery: Monday- Walter and I have to both appear at the embassy with son, to verify we are both parents who want son to travel abroad, then sign papers. Nice man at embassy says we should expect passport in 4 weeks minimum, and that's expedited because the passport has to be sent to DC for processing. We opt not to pay for first class postage from the embassy to Saint Blaise, since we've decided not to go to the UK yet. Thursday- passport appears in the mail!!!!!! That's just impossible. We were flabberasted- 3 days turnaround. I'd like to think they put it in a diplomatic pouch ;)
While in the mother country, we got to see my brother Jamie and his blossomingly preggo wife Susan. She's due in late September and according to Jamie the bump is called Archie. We visited my brother Robert and his fiancee Marie-Claire in their new, lovely apartment.
WhoZat?
ZatsJamie!
Jamie all pooped after Uncly duties.
Uncle Gummy and Uncle Susan.
This photo was taken on the only really nice day we had. The day after, it chucked it down and the wind blew a complete hoolie. As I was standing at the kithchen sink (faces out the opposite side of the house), I saw the tent fly over, into the driveway. It actually flew over the house!
On the stairs up to Rob's flat.
Robert's doing the "Gobi Challenge" in a couple of weeks. He's going to walk 140 miles in a week, across the Gobi desert for the 2 charities: MacMillan Cancer Support and the MS Society. My dad's going too to give free dental treatment for the people of South Gobi province. If anyone wants to sponsor Rob, his email address is: robertkmacdonald@yahoo.co.uk
Did I say I love the beach?
Even in gale force winds.
I think the British eat icecream at the beach for the same reason that they tend to eat really hot curry: "I can take it. I'm as hard as nails."
We grew up for the most part with dogs. Jack Russells actually. The last one, Daisy, started out cute as a button but gradually turned a little odd. I think if she was human, she would have been diagnosed with a mental illness. Maybe depression or a neurosis...Was it living with us? I think she was inbred. I loved her and she hated my boyfriends. She also thought that she was above my youngest brother Robert in the pecking order. She really had a perfect life: in the country, she could get out through the catflap any time, plenty of badger holes to go down and roast beef for breakfast. Anyway, when my mum told me they were getting Millie, I was rather taken aback and it felt like disloyalty. Millie is a Lhasa Apso who was used for breeding and ran in a pack. Her owner wanted to give her away because she was always trying to cuddle up to her, and she felt bad that she couldn't give her the attention. She was never really house trained or learned to play. My mum cut her hair and now she's gradually learning the ins and outs of taking walks (would be happy if she never had to) and playing 'catch the ball'. I've fallen in love with her too! She's everso cuddly and plays with the boys. While we were staying, she got hold of Toby's pacifier and proceeded to suck and chew on it. The only time I've heard her growl was when my mum tried to take it away from her. If only I'd gotten a photie of that!
A view of the house while walking the dog.
Lastly, some footage of talented Uncle Rob. What will the people of Gobi make of this?
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