Mare Britannia

Well, I'm back. Not that you would have really known I was away (apart from the lack of posts for a few days), because I omitted to tell anyone.

But I was. Away, that is. In London. Seeing the Mare parents, who were returning from their vacation somewhere else in Europe, and who were stopping off for a few days in the big city. So E. and I flew down to see them. That may sound all exciting and jetsettery, until you realise that: a.) London is just one big international transport hub and b.) E. and I already live in the UK.

I always forget how busy (read: crowded) and expensive (read: hemorraghing money) London can be. So I think I need a brief minute to sit here quietly in the corner, soothing my aching legs and my white-hot credit card.

Suffice to say in the interim, a very good and delightful time was had by all, except that as usual, we crammed in so much in the space of a few short days that I am completely exhausted. My parents are such hardy and intrepid little souls. Really, I don't know where they get the energy for all that sightseeing AND for so much willful mispronunciation. CON-vent Garden, or alternatively "Coventry Garden". Taking "the Metro". Oh look, it's raining, let's put up our brellies.

Bless them, it warmed my heart right through. As we said our farewells this morning at the airport, I confess to being desperately sad to see the Mare family once again separated by a long flight and a big ocean.

Of course, if the July IVF fails, I may be spending an extended amount of time in their company, should we ultimately end up enacting Plan D, a prospect I find rather cheering in a "glass half full" kind of way.

Especially if the glass is filled with sangria, and the drinking of said glass is taking place by the pool in the Florida sunshine. And, as we enter the last couple weeks of our wait to start treatment, that's a silver lining to hold on to.