It's Not Me....

...It's definitely you, Blogspot.

After trying to figure out your unsolicited new settings for 2 months now without much success I am pulling the plug.  Life has enough stressors without yelling at a website, dontcha think? So for my sanity's sake, I'm breaking up with you. I won't do anything super drastic, like erase all of our memories together...but I am moving on. To someone with cleaner lines, a simpler format, and user friendly settings. It was time. We've outgrown each other, really, and I wouldn't want either of us to continue in this bitter pattern of avoidance we've recently established.

So who's the new guy, you might ask? I suppose it's only fair that I tell you... after all, we did spend a good year and  half together. It's cwbexpatdiaries.wordpress.com.

I'm sorry... I wish you the best. Maybe we'll run into each other again someday?

Oxford's Best Foot Forward

After over a year of planning, it happened. Rachel came to Oxford!

Cousins reunited!

That didn't last long...

Oxford must have sensed all of the planning, list making, and emailing that happened before Rachel arrived, because this city miraculously borrowed some Californian sunshine in time for the big event. It was ridiculously, uncharacteristically beautiful weather, and we took full advantage of all of the sunshine.

Seriously?

Rachel's new favorite form of transportation: punting.

And with a view like that, can you really blame her?

 Even the adorable baby animals made an appearance for Rachel's visit!

I, for one, was delighted to simply warm my bones in the sunlight, Sound of Music style. Rachel was kind enough to join me.

We had such a fantastic time hiking, visiting tea shops, buying most of Blackwell's classic literature section (Rachel), drinking beers in famous pubs (Rachel and Will) and just hanging out. Honestly, the three of us would have had a wonderful time even if the sun didn't make an appearance all twelve days, but the glorious weather just meant that we could talk and catch up in Oxford's great outdoors, too.

Of course, we did enter indoors for a few must-sees....

Rachel in Hogwarts!!

Even the British coffee showed Rachel some love. 

After an incredible 12 day trip, we somehow allowed her to get on the plane and go home... but not before researching all of the nursing opportunities she could have in Oxford. Rachel--you know what you need to do!

My Fickle Heart (Part 3)

I feel the need to further justify my fickleness... also, I need an excuse to post the pictures of our last morning in Wales. Before we headed back to Oxford we decided to walk up the smallish mountain (large hill?) that overlooked the house where we stayed. The sun was shining, the weather was warm(ish), and the view was, once again, spectacular. How in the world is one supposed to return to places like suburban America after seeing sights like these?

Is it just me, or is Will even more handsome in Wales?

What a view (double entendre intended).

The three amigos.

Bryan shamed us all by literally running up the mountain.

My Welsh travel buddies.

I don't think I could ever get tired of a view like this.

And that, folks, is Wales. I am deeply committed to a long distance relationship with my new love and hope to visit again this summer. Unless, of course, we go to Ireland instead...

My Fickle Heart (Part 2)

Where did I leave you...

Right. Hiking down Cader Idris soaking wet.

We returned to the car, cranked up the heat, and set out for Aberdovey--a small seaside village with a most beautiful coastline. Our drive took us through sheep fields, over a mountain ridge, and along the coast.

The sea!

Aberdovey was charming. Of course it was--this is Wales, after all! We warmed ourselves by a radiator in a little tea shop (Louise and I sat on the radiator in the tea shop), drinking tea and eating soup until we were mostly dry and warm enough to venture back outside and wander the shoreline for a few miles. I want to go back there once the weather warms up and just sprawl in the white sand for days.

The rows of colorful houses reminded us of New Orleans.

The signs in New Orleans, however, are slightly more intelligible.

Indulge me in a little Lyle Lovett... "If I had a boat..."

What a view.

Louise, standing in a very slow sink hole: "In two hours, I'll be a goner!"

Wales agrees with us.

Aberdovey at dusk.

My Fickle Heart (Part 1)

Remember when I professed my undying love for Scotland? I swore that it's rugged coastline had won my heart and that I might have to break up with Oxford and go steady with Edinburgh instead.

Well since I can't commit to anything I promptly fell out of love with Scotland and in love with Wales two weeks ago, when we spent the weekend in that gorgeous country with two friends from church. How could I not? For starters, there's Welsh.

I don't even know where to begin...

If we end up stranded on this mountain we will die, because we can't read the help sign.

We entertained ourselves for hours trying to pronounce this unpronounceable language. Who knew that the double L made a phlegm sound in the back of the throat?

Welsh language plus Welsh terrain? Amazing. I don't even care if I can't read the help sign and die on the mountain because by golly I'll go out with the best view.

Beautiful, even in the rain.

On our way up Cader Idris. I'm smiling because we haven't hiked into the rain cloud yet...

Just us, lots of rocks, and the sheep on the mountain today...

...because the wind and rain are out of control!

But we made it!

Got a picture? Great. Let's get the heck off of this mountain.

Just in case you suspect me of being overly dramatic (who? moi?), here is the memorial stone of a runner who DIED on this climb. Running kills. I've stopped.

We made it to the top of Cader Idris despite the driving rain, strong wind, slippery rocks, and overall unpleasantness because we were too stubborn to quit. I would love to go back and make the climb again in better weather; according to Google Images, this is what Cader Idris would look like in sunshine:

The sun did decide to make a slight appearance on the hike down, and the view made the soaking wet jeans totally worth it.

Wales, I love you.

My Kind of Marathon

The frolicking kind...

Team, let's be real honest here for a minute.

I will never run a marathon.

And I don't even want to hear all of that "never say never!" baloney because it's true. Some people were innately designed to fear physical pain and discomfort, and I gladly and willingly throw my lot in with that crowd. As much as I enjoyed my foray into running last spring/summer, and as much as I fully intend to return to my running ways once this dang cold weather leaves for good, the whole marathon thing ain't gonna happen. Unless, of course, it is a....

FAMILY FUN MARATHON!!!

What is a family fun marathon, you ask? First of all, it has absolutely nothing to do with running. In fact, it has absolutely nothing to do with physical endurance of any kind... unless you count the eating of many, many scones.

Refueling on a scone break in Bath.

The Family Fun Marathon, according to the CED (that's the Caitlin English Dictionary) is "any family gathering, congregation, or the like of great, or greater than normal, length or duration, and in which great quantities of frivolities or joyous celebrations occur." Welcome to January, 2012 at the Brians!

Let's break that down: "any family gathering..."

Family gathering in front of Bath Abbey.


Family gathering in Port Meadow.

Gathering? Check.

Next, "of great, or greater than normal, length or duration..."

19 days. Check.

Finally, "in which great quantities of frivolities or joyous celebrations occur."

Siblings in London. Check.


Siblings at White Horse Vale. Check.


Bath with the parents. Check.

So who needs 26.2 miles when you can participate in a Family Fun Marathon instead? Not this girl.

Dear Dad,

I don't know how many 24-year-old young women wake up and think "It's a Rod Stewart kind of day."

In fact, I don't know how many people wake up and think "It's a Rod Stewart kind of day."

But thanks to you, and your wonderful upbringing, I am that woman.

"I laughed at all of your jokes, my love you didn't need to coax..."

"Don't have much, but what I've got is yours, except of course my steel guitar..."

Thanks to you, I'm classy like that. And I can sing every line of "American Pie"... but that's a different kind of day. :)

Love,

Cakes