The Queen can often be seen riding her horse in Hyde Park on Sunday afternoons

He is a spirited but kind beast.

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Will: Why should I go first? (I look at him, the Dad look that says 'because I say so.') Today we started off the day with a nice sleep-in until 8. Then Mom came back from her run and off we went to Regents Park. It was a bit overcast - not foggy, overcast - and windy. But it was nice. Boy, was there a lot of birds. There were swans, ducks, laughing gulls, great blue herons, Canadian geese, pigeons and ravens. Andie: The ravens hopped! We went to the playground and set up a blanket on the grass. After lunch it started raining on us Will: But only for a little bit. Andie: Hey I'm talking. Like Will said, it only rained for a little bit. But while it was raining we had two small umbrellas to cover all three of us and the blanket and Will's diablo. Will: So, as I was saying, there was lots of birds. We went to the boathouse and got some ice cream and walked to Marks and Spencers. We both got some clothes. Daddy: Why don't you guys talk about what w...
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Thoughts while walking

I walk back and forth to work, two miles each way through some of London's nicer neighborhoods. This gives me ample time to think deep thoughts: The BBC is not NPR. Some people might think that's a good thing. But when I brought my radio on my walk one morning this week and tuned in, expecting to find news headlines, I heard instead an in depth analysis of a man who kept putting off important surgery. Apparently this happens sometimes, people postponing surgery because they are scared. Apparently this is a bad thing to do. Apparently the man's wife was quite upset with him. Apparently, a panel of psychologists, psychiatrists, surgeons, and BBC moderators can spend a good chunk of time discussing it. I changed channels. London has stupid drive-time radio DJs just like we do at home. But they talk so fast in their fancy accents that I have a hard time understanding them. I resolve to give up on the radio and go back to the iPod. There are many gorgeous women in Lon...
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Dancing for Albert (and other tourist tales)

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It is amazing how, in the middle of this large and populous city, the parks can be deserted. After dinner Friday evening the kids and I took our new football (a soccer ball, really, but we are trying to assimilate) to Regents Park, where we practically had the place to ourselves. We booted the ball great distances over the slick pitch (see? assimilating ...) and ended up in a grove of dense trees. The rain had stopped but the wind was now brisk, and every few minutes it rattled the branches and leaves overhead and caused a new downpour of large drops to splat upon us. The kids fashioned bats out of branches that had fallen from the trees, and soon we had invented the perfect hybrid game of basoc. Think baseball with a soccer ball. I am the pitcher, I bounce the ball in, and Will or Andie whacks it with a thick stick. It turns out that Will is the Willie Mays of basoc. Every pitch - pow! - sent me running out of the grove and across the pitch to retrieve the rolling soccer - oo...
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