celebrity (near)sightings

What a productive 10+ months we have had here in London thus far. To date, we have personally seen John Goodman (old news, walking along the Thames back in February wearing a fabulous grey sweatsuit), Ricky Gervais (power walking in a Hanes tee and mesh shorts, walkman in hand), Chris Martin (no big deal - just the lead.singer.of.Coldplay running along my street) and Boy George. Okay, this last one is up for debate. This most recent sighting was last weekend at the Sir Richard Steele Pub in Steele's Village while casually enjoying a beer and feeding Charlotte dinner. Don't judge, children are allowed at pubs. And we weren't technically IN the pub, we were seated outside in the concrete garden. Back to the story... Upon his entrance, Tim and I (eyes wide open) glanced at each other and stealthily turned away to plan our photo opp. After further review and Tim's paparazzi moment, I concluded that it is NOT a one Sir Boy George. Tim and Charlotte swear it is he, as Google (old reliable Google) confirmed he once lived in walking distance to this pub. And Charlotte couldn't take her eyes off of his striped pants and platform shoes. Can you blame her? You decide.

*Add Tim Burton to the list...ate brunch with him on Sunday. Okay, not "with" him... but he was sitting at the table next to ours.

Bonjour

Now add an "e" in between the "bon" and the "jour" and say it with a Julia Child tone. You are now privy to my exact butchering of the French language. Needless to say, it is only one of two French words in my entire arsenal of french vocabulary. Come to think of it, I think Bonejour is a dog store in Philadelphia. Happy to see I inquired my phenomenal pronunciation from a pet store in Olde City.

This past weekend, we discovered that one can only mask being an American in Paris for so long when the first word you're required to say sounds like it evolved from another planet. However, we only felt very American in Paris until Tim overheard a southerner at the hotel check-in say very loudly and proudly "MERCY, MERCY" to the receptionist. [insert Merci, Merci for those non-french speaking individuals] After that, we considered ourselves seasoned Europeans. I mean, I now call undergarments by their proper name - pants. This coming after a bit of an embarrassing tailoring conversation last week. But that's for another day...

We had a great time in Paris - what a beautiful city filled with rich culture, architecture and the best macarons on the planet. Eating an entire baguette for dinner (not to mention loads of cheese, charcuterie, red wine and grapes) has never been more appealing. Even Charlotte got in on the culinary action with a Croissant. Aside from eating, we saw some of the major attractions the city has to offer - beautiful gardens, The Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre. A few pics to document Charlotte's first "holiday" are below.

Laduree, mmm macarons

Eiffel Tower 

dinner in our hotel room 

boat tour on the Seine

favorite places

For the last three mornings, while I have been preparing breakfast for Charlotte, she has been scampering away from her toys in the living room (reception room to the English folk) for a much more intriguing and prime location. This is where I have found her on each occasion:

Melts my heart... gushy, gushy

Dear Abby,

My mom keeps trying to feed me [sneak in] various types of food, many of which I try to splatter all over the floor, table and curtains for my friends, the ants, to enjoy. Ever heard of quinoa? If not, keep it that way. My mom says it is super healthy, a great source of protein and the "whole grains" won't bother my tummy. Well, it bothers my taste buds so I hope it disappears from our house as quickly as it appeared in my diet. Oh yeah, and hiding them in homemade applesauce is for rookies... What should I do?

Sincerely,

 Charlotte "I want sugary snacks" Anne

___________________________________

Dear  Charlotte "I want sugary snacks" Anne,

Listen to your mother. End of conversation.

Sincerely,
Abby

Peaches and butter

100% natural and organic. Who would have thought peaches and butter would make such a terrific hair gel? I think she may be on to something here... Any takers?

Olympic fever

Olympic junkies. Yep, that's us. We just can't get enough and it doesn't hurt that they are taking place right down the street. Well, okay a few miles away, but still "local". I am a bit bummed that we have only been able to watch one event thus far in-person - the women's marathon. My attempts to purchase daily released tickets for other events has proven futile. Hopefully we'll be able to attend the men's marathon on Sunday. At least I can say that I attended the 2012 Olympics and our future Olympian (Charlotte seems to have an affinity for water) has pictures to prove her attendance.

a soggy start to our Olympics viewing

Future Gold Medalist? Or just Cadbury chocolate junkie...

Go team ?

On a humorous note, Tim and I had a very interesting swimming discussion. I believe this was during the men's 400m Freestyle finals - (preface: after watching every swimming event occurring during the Olympics thus far... and every Olympics prior to 2012) Tim casually stated, "I don't even know why they call this race the freestyle, as if anyone is going to choose to doggie paddle or breaststroke while everyone else is flying by with this stroke." Oh Timmy...I guess neither Ian "Thorpedo" Thorpe nor Gary Hall Jr. made much of an impression on you growing up. ha

Stonehenge

Okay, so not the real Stonehenge, but how cool is this? In the spirit of the Olympics and festivals across London, Sacrilege (a life-sized inflatable bouncy replica of Stonehenge) visited our local park. Even after nearly getting pounced by very enthusiastic "children" (aka, other parents trying to show off their glorified high school gymnastics skills), Charlotte enjoyed every minute of it. While I hope to visit the real Stonehenge one day soon, I'm sure it will not compare in the least to a bouncy castle. Ahem, you know, for Charlotte.