Squats, runny noses and tractors

I had a fabulous weekend in London. The crazy part is that it was with girls that I know from my time in Mexico!!I love meeting people in one part of the world and seeing them in another. Alex, aka Lexi, was a perfect hostess, showing me a super hip part of London called East Dulwich. And Katie kept me laughing all night.

Katie and Lexi, in our Mexico days...

Unfortunately I picked up a cold that the girls brought home from school. So Saturday night I barely drank, I was feeling like shit, but rallied until 2 in the morning where we all ended up crashing at a squat that used used to be an orphanage! In reality, it had more of a commune feel. In the morning I stumbled into the kitchen where I met an architect from Germany, a P.H.D candidate from Ireland, an Englishman that is a marathoner and a film maker. Hours of wonderful conversation while we drank coffee.

I left London for my hour long train ride home at 8:30 last night, Sunday. Four trains, 3 buses and three and a half hours later I was sick, tired, and stumbling into bed after midnight knowing that I had to start work at 7:30 the next morning.

I barely got the girls out the door to get Grace to school, sniffing and cloudy headed all the way. So I parked, admittedly a bit haphazardly, walked Grace to her classroom and as I was heading back to the car, one of the moms spotted me and yelled out across the yard, “there is a tractor trying to get through and your car is blocking him and no one can get by!!” Shit. I run, with Imogen on my hip, to the car, throw her in, buckle her up, and tun on the car to get he hell out of there before I’m any more embarrassed or causing more trouble. No such luck. The car is dead.

Things are starting to look like this. Except, worse.

I look up and there are moms EVERYWHERE staring at me, expecting to get my little car out of there way so they can get on with their posh day. Amidst a sea of huge mom-SUVs, here is my little golden Yaris jamming up the whole works.

My Golden Chariot

So, I jump out of the car and walk up to Mr. Tractor Driver, who is surprisingly handsome, and tell him that the only way he will ever get out of this is to help me push the car out of the way. The look on his face was priceless. I just shrugged my shoulders and walked back to my car, tractor Driver following reluctantly behind me.

We push the car out of the way, he tractors away, all of the traffic that was stopped up for blocks starts to move on. I asks all of the mom’s if anyone has jumper cables until someone takes pity on me and helps out.

This morning was just one of those times that seems so absurd, you simply have to laugh. Which I did. A lot. Then I went home where Gin brushed my hair, cuddled and told me I was beautiful. I feel much better.



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