Everything is going to be fine in 2009!

So much for practical blogging well how about New Year’s resolutions.. I am hoping that will help me will help me to try and keep up on much needed communication.

We are so happy to say that we have left 2008 behind. January 1, 2009 truly felt like a new beginning, a weight was lifted off our shoulders. Although we won’t be able to put the memories of the past year behind us the future is much brighter. We still take one day at a time but the days seem to be a bit more manageable and brighter.

We had a nice quite Christmas. I didn’t have to work and it was great to spend the day in our PJs, drink coffee and eat pumpkin pancakes. Patrick and I took turns sleeping in. It wasn’t the Christmas frenzy we expect will come in a few years time when Rafiki gets older. He must be the only kid in the world who didn’t want to open his presents.

We started with stockings and he wanted to play with each and every present, why move on to more when he had fun right in front of him. Present opening took about 3 days.

Friends and family all kept Rafiki in their hearts and gave him a very special Christmas.
We were all spoiled by a wonderful organization that we have been working with over the past months, There with Care.

They brought us a huge Christmas dinner from Whole Foods complete with every trimming you can imagine and more. It took Santa 3 trips to make it into the house with all the presents for Rafiki. I wasn’t home when the elves came but when I got home I was so surprised I thought they made a mistake and accidently left gifts for another family.

Rafiki was scheduled to have chemo on Christmas day which broke my heart. But Christmas Eve day the boys spent the day at Children’s ready to begin the 2nd big round of our intensive treatment and when the nurses began to flush Rafiki’s line it started to leak. He had a hole in his central line pipe. Obviously not a good thing.

Unfortunately, because his central line is not commonly used with children in the States the drama began. Now we needed a new part.... Ok lets call in the technician... Oh the technician is on holiday? Ok can we figure out what part? OK... where was the part... ?... hmmm ok Salt Lake City... OK lets make a call 3pm on Christmas Eve day.. hmmm.. did they get the message?

They closed the pipe with a small plastic clamp that made it uncomfortable for Rafiki. We spent a week on pins and needles the . Although minor at first glance a hole in his central line had a lot of potential for big problems-infection being the biggest threat. Then if Rafiki were to have an infection he would then have to have an IV put in, probably his hand and you can imagine that wouldn’t be going over to well with an active 2 year-old boy.

We tried to forget all that for a while and spent a nice quite evening with our dear friends the Girards. Belle and Even, the kids gave Rafiki all the attention he had been missing from other kids in one night. They were absolutely wonderful to him playing with him, teaching him things, and keeping a watchful eye on him. Patrick and I actually got to be regular adults and parents for a few hours. A great gift.


Photo by Mary Pridgen
barebonesphoto@qwestoffice.net
Thanks Mary!

"Practical" Blogging

I have definitely come to realize the challenges of blogging. As you may have noted I just updated the blog for the first time in 4 months. To be honest... I started THAT entry a month ago and was hoping for the time to find the pictures to add to it. I am learning more and more how blogs can and should work as I watch my co-workers start them up in a matter of minutes and update them with a few thoughts and some great pictures that may end of up as two paragraphs, then it is done. Volia!

I realize that bloggin is about getting information out quickly and simply. If I can learn to look at this blog like that making the time to update it won’t be such an issue. Right?

Well that is the plan anyway. Keeping life simple right now is extremely challenging and most days I try not to think about how we do it. We just do it. One day at a time. 10 minutes at a time.

I was dreaming of “a vacation” the other day, one that I hope some day we may be able to take. A real family vacation without the responsibilities of family or friend obligations. No offense, but we have never had a vacation with just the three of us and thought is pretty darn appealing.

In Patrick’s practical wisdom, he told me that I really should stop dreaming about that for now. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon nor was a simple day off to enjoy the family and our amazing fall weather and Colorado’s the brillant colors. I wasting time and energy on wanting it and “THAT ” really was a waste of time and energy.

His thought process definitely comes from his African roots, boarding school and military background where is it about practical measures, day to day living and survival.
It is hard to accept but I do need every bit of energy I can muster up.

I am now teaching two classes on Mondays my day off from the paper. Working 6 days a week is a serious challenge. I wake up at 4am to leave by 5am to be in Denver by 6:30am to start my class at 7:30am. I have a short hour break at 11:30am if I am lucky and then begin my 2nd class at which goes until 4:30pm. I do love the jobs but it is difficult to find any balance and be very good at either.

My time with Rafiki is so limited and it reflects in our relationship. He wants me by his side the minute I walk through the door and although I want to be with him to need a bit of time for the home admin that grows from hills into mountains daily. I envision getting things done when he goes to sleep but he fights to stay awake to be with me and by the time he does finally go to be I am ready to go to bed to and can’t face the mountains.

4 months really?

Today marks our fourth month back in the States together since our journey began. It is hard to believe it has been that long. For once I don’t think I can say that it feels like time has flown by. It is good to think that we are 8 months into our 3 year treatment.... only 2 and half more years to go.

Rafiki is doing very well. I never thought I would be inspired by a 2 year-old. When Rafiki isn’t feeling the side effects of the chemo he is running around acting like a typical 2 year-old boy. He loves trucks, all emergency vehicles especially fire engines, animals- he does a great horse impression, and golf.

He loves being outside and as soon as he is done eating breakfast usually asking to put his shoes on and go outside. He is great about his hat and remembers to put it on himself. He gets more grumpy when you try to take it off then put it on. He has lost his hair again. After his first intensive round of chemo was finished he started growing back a bit of the fuzz but with our second round he has lost it again.

I started to get use to him with his fuzz and because of his great attitude would often forget about him being sick, it is truly what a few minutes or even seconds of forgetting can do when this situation weights on you constantly. He has a wonderful hat a girlfriend and I picked up at a second hand store with fish on it he gets compliments on it every time he wears it.

You hardly see other kids wearing hats and especially not inside. When we do get a compliment I remember the secret that is lurking below. It is a strange symbol or our situation.

Our last big test for remission that we had done in England was inconclusive about Rafiki’s remission. Which I am trying to remind myself is a neutral statement. That is just means it isn’t clear whether the Leukemia is gone completely or not. It has definitely stopped growing but gone is another story ( well that is my shallow understanding of it). Because of that result both the doctors in the UK and here recommended we do two blocks of Delayed Intensive (DI) chemo.

Basically, what that means is two blocks of 2 months of chemo with a small break in the middle to make sure he is strong enough to move onto the next block. This is where we are now. Rafiki finished his first DI the end of August. He did well and had very few side effects which we are grateful for of course.

The treatment during the DI includes:
• oral meds daily and weekly
• spinal taps-with injection of chemo drugs into the spin- a minor surgery that Rafiki goes under for
• injections into his leg
• infusion- this is where Rafiki is hooked up to a “robot” (as they call them in England) and has a few hours of being connected and chemo drugs pushed into him.
Not to mention constant blood test.

Infusion is usually an old day process. Rafiki usually gets his own room and is able to watch TV, sometime he feels like being mobile and will walk around the day ward if he is allowed. It is an exhausting day for us all. Even though I rarely get to go these days I spend the entire day worrying and wondering how it is going.

Patrick is amazing. He is so calm and focused. His entire attention is focused on Rafiki and what he needs. He still manages to keep him disciplined which I have a lot of trouble not to mention consistency. I don’t know how parents do it without military training. Patrick’s sleep deprivation drills in the army are paying off again. I think if he could get a week off from his duties he would sleep straight. He is running on high at all times, predicting and anticipating everything.

The boys have a lot of fun together. Rafiki often turns to his Dad for help when I can’t understand him. Patrick is much more fluent in “Rafiki speak” than I am.

I am working 6 days a week now which adds to the challenge, one I didn’t really expect. I work 5 days at the The Longmont Times-Call and 1 day, Mondays my day off from the paper, teaching at the Art Institute of Colorado in Denver. I love both jobs but is really hard to focus on both.

I am teaching a basic photojournalism class for the first time this quarter. Being a first time teacher my students are getting away with a lot, partly due to me being new and the other part due to my lack of organization. The students are great. I was a bit nervous about getting started as this is a required class and this is an art school. I imagined a lot of students wouldn’t be to into but this quarter all seem to be making a concerted effort and excepting the challenge.

We recently had layoffs at the paper and the photo department luckily escaped but I we won’t the next time. Being the last hired I am a bit concerned.. I guess more than a bit as our insurance is tied to work. Newspapers are dying everywhere and we have discussed it amongst ourselves and realize that probably this is the last newspaper job we will have. With that idea running through my head I am trying to make a good impression at the college. I think I would really enjoy teaching there more but I also would like to have one foot in the newspaper staying current with news and the trends.

I had the privilege of covering the Democratic convention when it was here the last week of August. Unfortunately, I wasn’t credentialed to be on the floor at the Pepsi Center or go to Mile High. I got to be in the thick of it on the streets and I also was able to help out one of our photographers who on the floor for all the excitement. I got to hang with the media and be around the excitement and run into people like Al Sharpton and Ralph Nader.. probably a few others but had no clue who they were.

For the first time in my voting history I really do feel excited about voting. I don’t feel like it is the lesser of two evils which is what I have always heard from my parents growing up ever since I knew what a president was.

The first day of the convention I was teaching. When I left the college a riot was breaking out just a few blocks away. I quickly got to a parking spot and was able to get some shots and witness the scene for myself... another blog for another time!

So needless to say as exciting as it all was I didn’t see the family much. I never expected the challenges of coming back into this career with a family. Patrick is extremely supportive an encourages me to do my best work no matter how long it takes.

So we have been adjusting. I had the first month we were home off to help us try and get settled in. In my usual style I was trying to do to much with little time and often made things hectic for the house hold. It was great to have real time together in our own space. Rafiki was quite strong when we arrived and we were able to to do a bit of socializing when we got back. Everyone was thrilled to see him.

Kiss the ground

Getting here was actually the easy part. Once we were given the green light to come back to the States. I immediately booked us tickets home. Always a challenge especially with British Airways, we at least managed to get on the same flight, seats together were another story. I felt we needed to go sooner rather than later although there are always things to do and friends to see. I felt the time on the other end would be more beneficially for us.

We were also fighting the clock against a pregnant cat our in-laws had. One of the Lindsell's cats, became pregnant while we are there and as she grew so did our worry. New pets and especially baby animals are big bacteria no-nos for Rafiki and I am sure if we were around for the exciting moment of motherhood, Rafiki would want to join in with his cousins holding and petting each and ever kitty. We beat the kittens arrival by a week.

I booked tickets for us to come home June 11th. There was a lot to get done before leaving especially figuring out how we were going to get all the stuff we had accumulated home. Now that Rafiki is two and we basically pay full price for his seat, he had a baggage allowance thankfully. Rafiki had one huge duffle bag just of his toys and books; all the thoughtful presents friends and family had sent for his birthday and his hospital stay.

I am incapable of traveling light. My Dad always is surprised that I mange to fit 20 pounds of stuff into a 10 pound bag. Between the three of us we had-2 camera bags, 1 laptop bag, diaper bag, 2 carry-ons, purse, stroller and 4 giant duffle bags. We had so much stuff we had to do a trial run in the car to see if we could even make it to the airport with all our kit. Liz, our sister -in-law only had a small Land Rover.
http://www.analogstereo.com/images/om/land_rover_freelander.jp

It sounds big but was only big in the gas prices. A full tank of diesel in England cost us $120. So with painstaking precision Patrick got it all in leaving room for Liz to even see out the back window.

The 24 hour journey began with a 2 hour drive to the airport. At the airport we were told the prized bulk head seats I had tried so hard to get the few weeks before were already booked. This is after phone calls and emails to British Airways telling them we were traveling with a sick child. Everyone of the customer service people said they would make note of it but there was nothing they could do until the day of the flight.

Patrick and Rafiki had originally flown British Airways over to London in February and had a variety of unhappy incidents and Patrick was not thrilled at the idea of flying them back. We are still waiting to see if they will give us any kind of refund for the tickets we lost when Rafiki became ill in March. It really is amazing how corporate and unfeeling people and organizations have become. A society of fear that doesn't allow employees to think and care about their customers because it might break the rules and maybe they could lose their job. Often I do find it hard to believe that the person I am speaking to is actually a human.

The woman booking us in at the airport, did have a heart however and tried her hardest to find us seats at least near each other. She was successful with that and also gave us access to the Big Executive club but we didn't' have time to take advantage of it. Rafiki and I toured the amazing facility which included a theater, a couple bars, massages, kids area, buffet and a view of the tarmack.

When she called to get us access to it, she quietly whispered to the person on the other line that the couple she was inquiring about were traveling with a critically ill child. My heart dropped I had never thought of our situation like that and it hit me in the chest with a lot of power. Already a bit stressed about the flight, getting through security and arriving safely I started to get a bit emotional. It is moments like those when I actually have a few seconds to see outside myself, see what other people see and realize, wow.. this is really our lives.

The flight went well and Rafiki was a star for most of it. He slept at least half of it. We managed to get through customs and immigration faster than I have ever before and were greeted by our good friends Julie Quihuiz and Mia Giard. Mia was a surprise we weren't expecting. Luckily we managed to fit all the kit in my Honda CR-V.

Because of our concern for us to get settled in immediately with our medical care. We booked an appointment to see the Dr. Greffe on the 12th the day after we arrived. We wanted to be prepared. If Rafiki's temperature gets above 100 we automatically go into the hospital as that is the first sign there may be an infection. If that were to happen we wanted to make sure we would be taken care of in the way we had been before.

Hoping that our visit would blow Patrick away was just enough to set me up for a disappointing result.

Of course the hospital was as gorgeous as I remember it. We got there early so we could get a bite to eat and have a look around. We started to hit a few little bumps in the road as we began our appointment. All being tired and anxious added to the situation. We were brought into an exam room which was incredibly sterile. The sight of it, sent Rafiki into tears, knowing only to well what he was in for. This was one of the rooms I had not seen, not that it really would have made a difference in the big picture but I was a little surprised. There wasn't a poster on the wall, not even an informational one and there was one book to read that was for middle schoolers and was a medical book not to exciting for Rafiki.

The nurse struggled to get Rafiki's vitals. His least favorite; getting his blood pressure taken which they try to do on his leg but have a hard time getting an accurate reading as most of the time he is hysterical.

After that was done the nurse brought Rafiki a nice noisy truck and that quieted him down for a bit. Dr. Greffe came in and we discussed all our adventures in the medical field so far and showed him the meds we had brought back with us. Rafiki seemed to be very comfortable with him. Rafiki does seem to favor male doctors.

We started to fill in the pieces and then of course came to the dreaded blood taking. Rafiki has a central line with an exterior port called a Groshong.

Central line: A catheter (tube) that is passed through a vein to end up in the thoracic (chest) portion of the vena cava (the large vein returning blood to the heart) or in the right atrium of the heart.
http://www.medterms.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=14394

The Groshong is a very common type of catheter in England but no so here.
http://www.rad.washington.edu/clinical/patinfo/interventional-radiology-clinic/Interventional-Procedures/vascular-access

So needless to say there has been a bit of confusion. The first attempts at taking Rafiki's blood from the Phlebotomist greatly concerned as, as access was not smooth and there was a struggle to get the blood taken and the line flushed clean.
It was quite the change from the last visit we had from our community nurse Janet Meikel in Stalbridge, in which Rafiki didn't even flinch the entire time.

We tried to describe the tools,syringes, and methods that they use in the UK but neither the nurse or the Phlebotomist was familiar with the groshong and it really surprised us. This was not something we anticipated.

I had met a lovely young girl, Zoey who is in the maintenance part of her chemo here in Fort Collins before I left. When I met with her and her family Zoey generously let me see and feel her central line which was under the skin and requires an injection. At the time I just figured different kids had different port for different reasons, and I really had no reason to believe that the groshong would not be used here.

Rafiki a brave boy quickly recovered and was up for exploring the hospital. On the ride home I asked Patrick what he thought and in his typical style said he was going to reserve judgement.

Fair enough. For right now I was just glad to be back home and in our own space and together.

Decisions

Patrick and I haven't had much of chance to talk but he knew I was pushing for us to return to the States. The weeks apart have been so hard for both of us, and as my good friend Mia has said we both have been fighting the same war but in different trenches. There is no way I can even begin to know what he has gone through caring for Rafiki alone and not letting him out of his sight for even a second. The first month was the hardest when Rafiki was on Dexamothazone, steroids.

Dexamethasone (also called Decadron¨) is a man-made steroid medicine. It works like a natural steroid that is made in your body. This medicine has several uses:
• to relieve inflammation (swelling, heat, redness, and pain)
• to treat certain types of cancer
• to treat severe allergies and asthma
• to treat nausea and vomiting


Rafiki was a hand full feeling all the side effect that the drug has to offer. Eating all the time, not sleeping, grumpy, moody, and also in a far bit of pain not able to walk. The nurses at the hospital call kids on the drug DEX babies.

The side effects seem endless but it is very effective with this treatment

Possible side effects
Early
• Stomach irritation (burning)

Late (usually more than a day after treatment starts)
• Headache
• Dizziness
• Changes in personality and mood
• Increased appetite
• Problems sleeping
• Acne
• Eye problems (cataracts, glaucoma)
• Weight gain, mainly in the face and abdomen
• Water retention that can increase the blood pressure
• Increased white blood count, but decreased numbers of infection-fighting cells
• Increased blood sugar levels
• Decreased potassium levels in the blood, especially if you are taking other medicines that also decrease potassium levels in the blood

After taking dexamethasone for a long time
• Decreased muscle mass and muscle weakness
• Impaired wound healing
• Decreased growth
• Thin fragile skin
• Weakened bones

In and out of the hospital Patrick is not one to ask for help in any capacity. He takes all the burden himself rather than burden someone else even though there is a long list of people would love for the opportunity to help.

We finally decided that we would return to the States sometime mid-May. Over the last 6 weeks of being separated I have thought and rethought about the decision to stay in England or move back to the States. I have come to realize that no matter which decision we make there will always be a price to pay whether that is financial or mental. We aren't going to get out of this situation without paying a price somewhere along the line. Of course this doesn't even take into consideration the price Rafiki pays as a sick child every day.

Since the beginning of this journey, the medical staff here in England have been incredible.

Southampton General Hospital
http://www.suht.nhs.uk/index.cfm?articleid=1694

Dorset Community Hospital
http://www.dch.org.uk/


Although both Patrick and I have been out of minds with worry for our son the doctors and nurses never gave us anything more to worry about. They have always been confident, clear and comforting dealing with us. They reassured us at ever step often easing our fears about the future and Rafiki's treatment. To be honest the hardest part of this journey was in the beginning, not knowing or understanding and carrying the hope that this was all a big mistake, the denial was overpowering. I think in some ways I am still in denial as I have missed such a horrendous part of the treatment and I see my lovely little 2 year-old old running around, playing and laughing and trying to keep up with his cousins.

When I thanked one of the many wonderful nurses, Leigh Shaw, she said it was just her job. Although that might be the case there aren't enough thanks that can go out to these wonderful people.
They are sure we will get the same treatment back in the States but again the unknown is the hardest part. My only regret I have is that I didn't get pictures of all these wonderful people to bring home with us.

I have begun to see Rafiki again in his new body He has lost a lot of the weight and puffiness he got while on the DEX. I have realized that the little boy who went to Zimbabwe in February of 2008, is gone, and he would have been gone regardless. He is growing and the cliches about it happening so fast are true. He is going to be growing while he has this disease, and when we reach the other side he will be a whole new person. He will be a whole new person in 3 years time even if he weren't' sick. I carry the image a friend of mine gave me imagining Rafiki walking through the doors into his first day of kindergarten a totally healthy little boy.

I have been anxious to return sooner than later as I feel we will need a lot of time on the other end to settle in. I have been pushing Patrick to make a decision and I haven't been as gently as I probably should have.

We decided that once Rafiki had his Minimal residual disease, MRD test( MRD stands for Minimal Residual Disease. It is a term that simply put means that they detect leukemia cells with a much greater sensitivity than they did in the early days of childhood leukemia treatment. Instead of looking at 100 cells and finding 1 leukemia cell, they can now look at 10,000 cells and find 1 leukemia cell. this is a great place to get a better understanding for the MRD http://atlasgeneticsoncology.org/Deep/MinResidDisID20007.html)

and we had a chance to talk to our consultant, Dr. Janice Kohler, who is an amazing woman and doctor. We would make plans to go. We won't receive the results for a few weeks but we do feel confident that we are still in remission.
As we waited for Rafiki to be called for his treatment at the hospital last week, we were able to talk to Dr. Kohler who first indicted to us that Rafiki is doing very well and right on track with where he should be. She was impressed with how he looked and was acting. I believe it had been about 3 to 4 weeks since she last saw him and he was quite the different little character both physically and mentally.


She knew I had been doing research in the States to find out about treatment there and what our options were. She asked what I had found out and that is when I told her we would be retuning to the States. It was a very difficult sentence to get out and I could see Patrick's eyes well up a bit with tears. It is amazing how you bond with people in tragedy and I think Patrick considered the staff at both Southampton General and Dorset county family if not even angles and saints.

We realize we are taking a risk by moving and I think we are both anxious about the trip and the future.
I have booked a ticket for us to return to the States on June 11th. I feel a bit nervous in that if Rafiki's health changes in the slightest we may have to cancel our flight.

Our lives are completely about one step one day at a time now.

Stalbridge Vilage

Kate, my 11 year-old niece came to me to tell me she had been invited to a party. An 18th, as they call them here, which I have come to understand is quite a big deal here. A classmate of Kate's who is the sister of the girl turning 18 had invited her and she was allowed to bring another person. She invited me. Always up for a party, I accepted thinking that it would be a bunch of teenagers standing around doing their thing and a few younger kids running around on the fringes admiring the older kids with a couple adult chaperones. I was sure it would be a interesting cultural experience.

Kate was so excited for the days leading up to the party, talking about what we would wear, putting on makeup and doing our hair. To be honest I was getting pretty excited to. I remember those days before parties and getting ready with friends in the bathroom sharing a laugh.

The party was at the village hall, just a few blocks down from the Lindsells house. I made sure we were fashionably late as I was sure of one thing I didn't want to be the first to arrive into a huge empty hall.

We arrived in perfect time and to my surprise it was packed with adults and had a little bar with a few beer taps, bottles of wine and liquor. Kate shyly introduced me to her friend, Pippa and her sister Sarah who was turning 18th, both beautiful girls- real natural beauties. At first I mistakingly took Pippa, the 11-year -old as the 18 year-old when I first arrived as she was about a foot taller than Kate and had started to develop as a young lady. Kate's other friends who were also at the party were also a bit more mature physically and I felt a bit sorry for Kate a bit. It doesn't seem to bother Kate though and I think she barely notices much. She excels in a variety of sports, especially swimming which she continues to place first in all her races; has a great sense of humor and is very caring person. She has a lot of energy and likes to have fun.

Of course I headed straight for the bar where the beer was poured into plastic pint glasses, kind of cute I thought. Kate got a Coke and we headed of for spot where we would sit and watch people. We chatted with a few people and one fellow over heard that I was staying with the Lindsells. He knew them and actually went to school with Kate's father Ed in Zimbabwe. A great jolly fellow, Steve, originally from Zambia chatted with us and continued to buy me pints. We talked about Africa, the states of affairs in Zimbabwe and village life in England. His wife Kate, who is English worked at the post office and after we had all enjoyed a few drinks we got the gossip on the village.

Stalbridge is a very small village in Dorset county which is southwest of London and relatively near the sea. It is very rural, surrounded by small farms. It is quite pretty actually and incredibly gorgeous when the sun actually shines. The landscape is a variety of brilliant greens and at the moment there are wonderful fields of Canola, which are bright yellow and break up the landscape in squares of color.

http://www.pagemost.com/Stalbridge-Dorset

The village of Stalbridge, doesn't consist of much the basics really a post-office, butcher, lawyer, fish and chips shop, chinese take away, a couple charity shops, a couple churches and a huge glamourous new grocery store which is a bit out of character for a small village like this. I imagine it brings in people from all the surrounding villages. There is some discontent in the community about the shop as you could say it is so sort of a Walmart on a much smaller scale. It sells everything and is close to putting some of the smaller shops in the village out of business.

The village has a strange feel, it isn't like any of the other near by villages we have gone through. I can't really put my finger on it but I guess I would say it doesn't have the quaint feel and energy that some of the other villages do. It is definitely not as picturesque as the others where all you want to do is capture its charm.

As we drank our drinks more and more people came in, people of all ages. It was incredible, the place filled up and was packed in about 30-minutes. Most of the adults were hanging around the bar, the teenagers were outside away from parents and the middle school kids were hanging around the DJ waiting for the disco to start. It was so packed at one point you really couldn't move around. It felt like the whole village was there. The disco finally started complete with smoke machine and laser lights and the little kids went crazy for it. Dancing and singing to all the latest trendy songs. I joined in a bit but recently blew out my knee so I wasn't able to shake my booty as I usually do. I was invited to come and dance with 2 single ladies who were cutting it up. They heard I was on my own and from America and I guess felt sorry for me. Kate had a great time with her friends. I let her use my camera for a few shots so she was a popular gal for that.

We had a curfew of 11pm and in my typical style pushed it to 11:30pm. We walked back to the house, carrying on as if the pub had just closed down talking about how fun the party was stopping to take a few night shots here and there. I think both of us could have and would have liked to stay out later but I didn't want to get Kate in trouble, later we found out we could have stayed out as long as we liked. Oh well! it was a great cultural experience.

Stalbridge Village

Kate, my 11 year-old niece came to me to tell me she had been invited to a party. An 18th, as they call them here, which I have come to understand is quite a big deal here. A classmate of Kate's who is the sister of the girl turning 18 had invited her and she was allowed to bring another person. She invited me. Always up for a party, I accepted thinking that it would be a bunch of teenagers standing around doing their thing and few younger kids running around on the fringes admiring the older kids with a couple adult chaperons. I was sure it would be a interesting cultural experience.

Kate was so excited for the days leading up to the party, talking about what we wear, putting on makeup and doing our hair. To be honest I was getting pretty excited to. I remember those days before parties and getting ready with friends in the bathroom sharing a laugh.

The party was at the village hall, just a few blocks down from the Lindsells house. I made sure we were fashionably late as I was sure of one thing I didn't want to be the first to arrive into a huge empty hall.

We arrived in perfect time and to my surprise it was packed with adults and had a little bar with a few taps of beer.bottles of wine and liquor. Kate shyly introduced me to her friend, Pippa and her sister Sarah who was turning 18th, both beautiful girls- real natural beauties. At first I mistakingly took Pippa, the 11-year -old as the 18 year-old when I first arrived as she was about a foot taller than Kate and had started to develop as a young lady. Kate's other friends that were also at the party wree also a bit more mature physically and I felt a bit sorry for Kate a bit. It doesn't seem to bother Kate though and I think she barely notices much. She excels in a variety of sports, especially swimming which she continues to place first in her races, has a great sense of humor and is very caring person. She has a lot of energy and just likes to have fun.

Of course I headed straight for the bar where the beer was poured into plastic pint glasses kind of cute I thought. Kate got a Coke and we headed fo ra spot where we would sit and watch people. We chatted with a few people and one fellow over heard that I was staying with the Lindsells. He knew them and actually went to school with Kate's father Ed in Zimbabwe. A great jolly fellow, Steve, originally from Zambia chatted with us and continued to buy me pints. We talked about Africa, the states of affairs in Zimbabwe and village life. His wife Kate, who is English worked at the post office and after we had all enjoyed a few drinks we got the gossip on the village.

Stalbridge is a very small village in Dorset county which is southwest of London and relatively near the sea. It is very rural, surrounded by small farms. It is quite pretty actually and incredibly gorgeous when the sun actually shines. The landscape is a variety of brilliant greens and at the moment there are wonderful fields of canola, which are bright yellow and break up the landscape in squares of color.

http://www.pagemost.com/Stalbridge-Dorset

The village of Stalbridge, doesn't have much, the basics mostly a post-office, butcher, lawyer, fish and chips shop, chinese take away, a couple charity shops, a couple churches and a huge glamourous new grocery store which is a bit out of character for a small village like this. I imagine it brings in people from all the surrounding villages. There is some discontent in the community about the shop as you could say it is so sort of a Walmart on a much smaller scale. It sells everything and is close to putting some of the smaller shops in the village out of business.

The village has a strange feel, it isn't like any of the other near by villages we have gone through. I can't really put my finger on it but I guess I would say it doesn't have the quaint feel and energy that some of the other villages do. It is definitely not as picturesque as the others that is for sure, where all you want to do is capture its charm.

As we drank our drinks more and more people came in, people of all ages. It was incredible, the place filled up and was packed in about 30-minutes. Most of the adults were hanging around the bar, the teenagers were outside, away from parents and the middle school kids were hanging around the DJ waiting for the disco to start. It was so packed at one point you really couldn't move around. It felt like the whole village was there. The disco finally started complete with smoke machine and laser lights and the little kids went crazy for it. Dancing and singing to all the latest trendy songs. I joined in a bit but recently blew out my knee so I wasn't able to shake my booty as I usually do. I was invited to come and dance with 2 single ladies who were cutting it up. They heard I was on my own and from America and I guess felt sorry for me. Kate had a great time with her friends. I let her use my camera for a few shots so she was a popular gal for that.

We had a curfew of 11pm and in my typical style pushed it to 11:30pm.We walked back to the house, carrying on as if the pub had just closed down talking about how fun the party was stopping to take a few night shots here and there. I think both of us could have and would have like to stay out later but I didn't want to get Kate in trouble, later we found out we could have stayed out as long as we liked. Oh well!