Slightly Dressier (But Still Fun) Work Clothes: Please Point in the Direction Of

I still have so many things to say about England, but also other things are happening: my supervisor is putting me at the library check-out desk one day a week, and that is a role for which is it more difficult to justify my cargo shorts and graphic t-shirts and Converse sneakers. Not impossible (we are a casual workplace), but more difficult. Also: supportive shoes are important, because I find standing still MUCH more physically difficult than the constant motion of shelving.

My friend J already recommended this POCKETED skort, which she was wearing at the time and in which she looked SMOKING (PROFESSIONAL/COMFY-STYLE SMOKE) (ALSO REGULAR SMOKE) in:

(image from Amazon.com)

I am definitely buying at least one, when I can decide on a pattern. My idea is that I will wear it with my usual graphic t-shirts, so maybe I should get it in plain navy or black—but I am more drawn to the patterns.

And then I am thinking I need shoes. Maybe I do not need shoes! Maybe a skirt + a graphic tee + Converse is good! But I think I would feel comfier in a nice supportive mary jane shoe, or else something pseudo-dressy like GLITTER sneakers. Or GLITTER MARY JANES. Let me know if you have seen such a thing. Should I wear them with knee socks? Maybe fun knee socks! COMPRESSION knee socks, for the aging calves in need of support! I could wear the ones I bought for the flight to England and never used!

I think what I am looking for is a very-slightly-dressier version of my normal everyday clothes, but still conforming to my resolution from a few years ago to buy clothes that are More Fun: Converse in colors/patterns, and all the fun graphic tees that are the equivalent of what you can buy in the girls 4-16 section, but in my size. (Annoyingly, most of those links will default to men’s/black, even though I selected women’s/color; the ones that DON’T default are the ones that are NOT AVAILABLE in men’s/black. I have the tulip shirt in GREEN, I have the rose shirt and the flamingo shirt in PINK, I have the Hello Sunshine shirt in YELLOW, I have the butterfly shirt and the rainbow shirt in BABY BLUE, I have the wildflower shirt and the Hot Disney Robin Hood Fox shirt and the autumn leaves shirt in OLIVE, etc.)

(image from Amazon.com)

So, like, maybe a stretchy skirt with pockets, and a graphic t-shirt, and stripey knee socks, and supportive glitter mary-janes? Okay, fine: plain black mary-janes, to keep it professional—maybe these or these, since I already know Skechers fit me well. Or/and maybe this is my moment to try a big poufy/swirl skirt? If you have seen things that seem like they’d fall into this category (ESPECIALLY supportive-but-fun shoes and comfortable-skirts-with-pockets), please point me in that direction!

A Little Bit of What it Was Like To Have a Colonoscopy

I intended to write a “what it was like” post after my first colonoscopy was over, in the interest of making people feel more normal about colonoscopies. But now that the time is here, I find myself reluctant.

Partly it’s because of the very reason it’s important to make people more comfortable: colonoscopies involve EMBARRASSING ELEMENTS. I don’t really want to talk about them or think about them.

Partly it’s because I don’t want to accidentally talk you out of it. I’m really glad I had it done, and I think YOU should have it done when it’s your time; but if I tell you what it was like, perhaps you will be like my co-worker who is five years older than me but hasn’t had her first colonoscopy yet because she’s heard what it’s like and she doesn’t want to do that. On the other hand: I was glad to know ahead of time what it would be like. During the prep, it helped me to think, “This is how everyone said it would be. There are many, many people in the world right now who are also doing a colonoscopy prep, and we are all miserable together right now; it’s not just me.”

Well. How about if I tell you SOME of what it was like. I know we’re all supposed to be comfortable with bodies and body words and body functions, but there’s no law, and I will use euphemisms and elision if I want to. I’m sure you have OTHER friends who will be more explicit about it. I will tell you the SWISTLE version.

I have had an endoscopy before, and so you can start there if you want, because the endoscopy/colonoscopy I had this time was the same in many ways, though different in some important ways, the biggest one being PREP.

Many people told me the prep was the worst part of a colonoscopy, and I entirely agree: the prep made me LOOK FORWARD TO the colonoscopy, because then the prep would be over. For a week before the procedure, I was supposed to eat a low-fiber diet, which you would think would be easy since I already eat keto/low-carb, but what it actually meant was that there was almost nothing I could eat: I could eat eggs, meat, cheese, and yogurt. No broccoli, no spinach, no nuts, no low-net-carb (high-fiber) bread, none of my pitiful little keto treats except Rebel ice cream (the kinds without nuts) and Zollipops. And also I couldn’t take my multivitamin, so overall I felt ungood. A smarter person would have skipped keto for the week and at least enjoyed some white bread and pancakes and fruit cups, and that is what I will FOR SURE do next time.

The day before the procedure, I was allowed to have a light breakfast as long as it was finished 24 hours before the procedure, and then no more food, just liquid-diet things such as broth, jello, juice, coffee-with-no-cream. At 5:00 p.m., I started The Real Prep, and what I would advise if your prep is the same kind (there are several different kinds) is to just assume you are not going to sleep at all that night, so if you DO get some fitful dozing, you’ll feel happy and lucky. I also advise sleeping near a bathroom, and ideally not near anyone who is able to sleep normally; I slept downstairs in a recliner. The Real Prep started with mixing 14 doses of Miralax into two quarts of liquid (I chose Powerade Zero; I hoped the electrolytes would be useful), and drinking it over the next 2.5 hours. At 8:00 p.m., I was supposed to take four Dulcolax/bisacodyl tablets.

The nurse and my co-worker both said those things wouldn’t have an effect until around 11:00 p.m. or even midnight, but for me it was more like 7:30/8:00 p.m.; I wondered if it was because of keto. This part of prep was like having a stomach bug / food poisoning, without the barfing. You know what that’s like. It was like that. The nurse recommended using A&D ointment to reduce irritation, and I was CERTAIN we had some in the house but I could not find it, so I used Bag Balm. You might be tempted, ahead of time, to think “Eh, I don’t need anything like that, I’ll be fine, and ointment is kind of icky” but I encourage you to listen to Auntie Swistle and buy an ointment. Just have it in the cupboard, IN CASE you want it.

I was able to sleep a little, though I kept having stress dreams: I am trying to take a pre-appointment shower but people keep barging into the bathroom / the water won’t turn on / I can’t rinse out the shampoo / Paul is calling out that we’re late for the appointment and need to leave NOW but I haven’t washed yet; or, oh no, I am accidentally eating food, and now I have wasted the whole week of prep. And I kept waking up to use the bathroom. And I felt queasy.

At 3:00 a.m., I had to mix 7 doses of Miralax into one quart of liquid, and drink it in one hour. I’d thought I wouldn’t go back to sleep after that, but I did, though restlessly: more dreams, more waking up to run to the bathroom.

Starting at 4:00 a.m., four hours before check-in at the hospital and five hours before the scheduled procedure, I wasn’t allowed to have anything at all to eat or drink.

By the time we left for the hospital at 7:15 a.m., I was no longer running to the bathroom. I’d worried that there would be issues with the long car ride, but there were not.

When I arrived at the hospital, things were very similar to the endoscopy. I gave them the same paperwork I’d had to do for the endoscopy (health conditions, when was the last time I had anything to eat/drink, medications, etc.); I got a hospital bracelet; I was led back to the area with a bunch of little curtained waiting rooms. They asked me to pee in a cup for a pregnancy test. For the endoscopy, I only had to undress from the waist up; for the endoscopy/colonoscopy, I had to undress entirely, including swapping my socks for their grippy hospital socks, and I changed into a hospital smock. They gave me a blanket, and I settled into the hospital bed. A nurse came to ask a bunch of questions about the prep, and to put in an IV and take vital signs. Then I had visits from the anesthesiologist and the doctor, with paperwork to sign for both.

They’d warned me that the appointment might start late if the two people scheduled before me ran longer than expected, and that’s what happened: I was supposed to have the procedure at 9:00 a.m., but we didn’t actually start until 10:15; I was glad I’d brought a book. When it was my turn, it felt like things happened very quickly. I was wheeled into a procedure room. The nurse-anesthesiologist put a blood pressure cuff on my left arm and an oxygen monitor on my right hand. She put in that little nose-oxygen thing. She had me lie on my left side (that felt a little odd with the blood-pressure cuff), and they put a towel under me, which I found embarrassing and wished they could have done after I was unconscious, or perhaps have put in place when making the bed so it would already be there.

She told me they’d be using propofol, which I’ve had before (for the endoscopy and for my dental implant); she said people sometimes wake up a little during the procedure, but that no one who wakes up CARES that they’ve woken up.) I felt as if I would care, maybe not at the moment then LATER ON, THINKING ABOUT IT. The doctor arrived, the nurse double-checked my name and date of birth, and then the nurse-anesthesiologist said she was going to start the propofol, and that I might feel certain side-effects I can’t remember now (heat near the IV? prickles in my face? some things like that). After a few seconds, I remembered that I was going to see how high I could count before I fell asleep, and I counted to about ten and by then I was out; I felt a little funny but mostly just very pleasantly sleepy, and glad we were finally getting on with things and soon it would be over.

When I woke up afterward, but was not fully awake, the first thing I asked was had I woken up during the procedure. The nurse said, “A little—do you remember it?” and I did NOT remember it, which made me sorry I’d asked, and/or sorry I hadn’t been a little more awake so I could have asked some follow-up questions. (Did I…TALK?? during the procedure?)

They wheeled me into a little recovery area; I looked at a clock and saw I’d been in the procedure room for about 45 minutes. A nurse brought me a warm blanket and a hot coffee and a warm blueberry muffin, and I felt very perky and happy, and relieved to have the procedure over with and to have moved on to the stage that included a blueberry muffin. Another nurse came in to show me the preliminary results of the endoscopy and colonoscopy; a little while later, the doctor came in to go over them with me briefly, though she said she will send her full report to my primary care doctor, and also to me in a letter. After maybe 30-45 minutes total in recovery I was able to get dressed and leave. Biopsy results will be back…later, I don’t remember how long she said they take.

From check-in to leaving was about 3.75 hours; the hospital had said to allow 2.5 hours, which is perfect math with the 1.25-hour delay. Except that in my experience, hospitals have delays more often than not, so it would be a good idea to incorporate average delays into the estimated time, particularly since patients MUST have someone there to drive them, and it would be nice for that person to know that things might take significantly longer than budgeted.

On the way home, I made Paul go through a Taco Bell drive-through. And before we’d left for the hospital, I’d had him go out for a dozen doughnuts, so those were waiting for me at home.

In case it is relevant to your own feelings, I will tell you the Coping Thoughts I used to get over the sheer embarrassment of the procedure itself. I thought back to my endoscopy, and how there were a whole bunch of little curtained areas where other patients were lined up waiting—maybe a dozen altogether, all of us being processed, tick tick tick, ask the questions, roll them in, roll them out. All day long, this department does ONLY endoscopies and colonoscopies, one after another. All day long, these staff members deal with all the things that are upsetting or embarrassing to me, and none of those things are upsetting or embarrassing to THEM; all of those things are UTTERLY ROUTINE to them. BEYOND routine. They probably have to force themselves to remember that the situation is upsetting/embarrassing for the patients. It probably comes up at their little staff meetings: “REMEMBER that for OUR PATIENTS this procedure can be…” etc.

And I thought about how MOST of the upsetting/embarrassing things would happen while I was unconscious, and that there was actually no reason or benefit for me to even THINK about what happens between the part where I am getting propofol in my IV and the part where I am eating a blueberry muffin under a warm blanket: I can let the professionals think about that, and I don’t have to think about it or imagine it, even a little bit. I can look forward to the prep being over, and I can look forward to the propofol, and I can look forward to the blueberry muffin; really, there is so much to look forward to, at a colonoscopy!

Eating in England

As many of you mentioned, it was pretty easy to deal with vegetarianism and a tree-nut allergy in England: restaurant menus were marked with vegetarian/vegan options, and many restaurants had an additional card that gave more detailed information. If anything, we encountered TOO MUCH carefulness: like, a server might caution against Elizabeth having salad, because it was too hard to know if it might have encountered a tree nut, even though they didn’t serve any salads containing tree nuts. And there seemed to be some conflation of vegetarian and vegan, so that frequently the vegetarian options would also be eggless and cheeseless, and eggs/cheese are two of the main things Elizabeth eats. But we found restaurants very flexible: if we said “Could she have this, but with an egg instead of bacon?,” no one ever said no—and in fact they tended to say yes with large willingness, as if they were glad we’d asked, even HOPING we’d ask.

Eating IN GENERAL, though, was a constant burden/stress. It felt like having a small baby, where you feed them, and then by the time you get them changed and dressed and get yourself ready to go, it’s already time to feed them again. It seemed like we were constantly, constantly dealing with the issue of needing to eat.

(The meat pie at lower left was not pretty, but was one of the most delicious things I ate in England. Now I CRAVE it. It was minced beef with cheesy mashed potatoes on top. SO GOOD.)

 

The MAIN issue was our group size: there are SEVEN of us, which is EXPONENTIALLY more difficult than if it were, say, just Paul and me. We don’t all of us go out to eat even at home, because seven is a big group even for fast food, let alone sit-down restaurants; and because it’s so expensive to take a group of seven out to eat, and because it’s difficult for seven people to agree on a restaurant. This is one of the trade-offs we deliberately made when deciding to have a large family: we don’t go out to eat. Also, I don’t think I have ever made a dinner reservation before: I’m not inclined toward restaurants that need them, and I don’t live in an area where many restaurants DO need them.

Take that starting point, and then imagine us in England, where we HAVE TO eat out twice a day, AND even the pizza places and casual pubs need reservations, AND everything costs much more than at home, AND it’s hard to make group decisions. Combine that with someone (me, it’s me) who gets stressed by unfamiliar things.

One of our best solutions was to split into two groups, even if we were planning to eat at the same restaurant. It was interesting to me, the different reaction we got as one group of three and one group of four. Often we were even seated at adjacent tables. But if we went in as a group of seven, the restaurant staff would get agitated/flustered.

I also found it much, much, MUCH easier to figure out our order when I was only dealing with a group of three or four, and when I didn’t have to coordinate that effort with another parent. And of course this was easier on the server as well.

And splitting into two groups helped with the vegetarian situation: all the restaurants had vegetarian options, but some of those options appealed to Picky Elizabeth and some didn’t. This way, Paul could take three of the kids to a gourmet burger restaurant they wanted to try, and I could take the two vegetarians to a restaurant that had some appealing vegetarian pasta dishes. Or Paul could take the picky vegetarian with the group going to a pizza place, while I took the easy vegetarian to a pub I wanted to try.

And splitting helped me cope mentally with the cost, since I was only seeing 3/7ths or 4/7ths of it. I KNEW the other 4/7ths or 3/7ths was happening, but my brain was soothed anyway by seeing a bill for 65 pounds instead of a bill for 150 pounds.

Oh, and another thing! Some of you had mentioned that restaurants WORKED differently in England than in the U.S., but I was too pre-trip agitated to take any of the details on board. Still, this meant I was not surprised when we found differences. But I find Unfamiliar Things stressful, so I needed a work-around to cope. Here was my work-around, which is going to seem so simple as to make some of you cross your eyes at me, but it took me significant time/effort to come up with it, so I will share it in case anyone else is in my boat: I ASKED.

I figured it like this: not everyone knows everything! And all of us humans know that to be true, because we have all personally experienced Not Knowing Things! So it is not weird that I don’t magically know how a new-to-me system works! And the humans who work there DO know how it works, and they are being paid to deal with customers, and I am a customer! So what I would do is, I would snag a server, or someone bussing tables, or someone standing at a cash register, and I would say in my absolutely blazing American accent, “Oh, hi! This is our first time here; can you tell me how this ordering system works / how we pay when we’re ready / how we add some cake to our order?” And each time, the person would just TELL ME! And usually I was very glad I’d asked, because the system was not difficult but nor was it intuitive: at one place, for example, we had to notice that there was a number on our table, which I had not noticed, and then we needed to go to the register and tell them our table number and pay there.

For me, the key was “This is our first time here.” It FOCUSES the issue. It’s not that I’m from another country and also a newbie traveler and also kind of an anxious person overall and also over-panicking about a relatively simple situation; it’s just that this is my first time at this particular restaurant. A laidback cosmopolitan who lives just down the street might have the same question I am about to ask!

I have just realized this entire post is about the LOGISTICS of eating, with no mention of the FOOD of eating. ACHIEVING food always felt difficult, but EATING it was delightful.

I wanted to try a lot of things that sounded familiar but I’d never tried—mostly things I’ve encountered in books/shows set in England. Here are some of the things we tried: a meat pie in a pub; Victoria sponge; jam roly poly with custard; a cream tea (scone with clotted cream and jam, plus coffee or tea); sticky toffee pudding; coronation chicken; mushy peas; sausage rolls; pasties; rock cakes; Hobnobs; McVitie’s Digestives; Cheddars; Tunnock’s tea cakes; lots of Cadbury things. And I can get fish and chips at home, but I think of it as an English thing (“chips” is the hint), so I made sure to get fish and chips there.

There were a lot of things that were familiar but in unfamiliar flavors: for example, the hotels would have familiar little individual yogurts, or familiar little jams, but the yogurt would be rhubarb, and the jam would be currant. The rock cakes were available in chocolate chip (familiar) and sultana (at first glance unfamiliar, but turned out to be another word for golden raisins). (A currant is also a raisin, from a different kind of grape.)

In our experience, cheese was always better than what we’d expect. For example, we ordered “chips and cheese,” which was french fries with cheese on them, and the cheese was like a high-quality sharp cheddar just barely rouxed to make it softer. I got a meat pie with “cheesy mash” (cheesy mashed potatoes) on top, and the cheese was the same sort of very good sharp cheddar taste.

In our experience, eggs were always much wetter than what we’d expect. Fried eggs had liquid yokes. Scrambled eggs were…well, I don’t know how to describe them in a way that doesn’t sound negative. “A wet heap” is what comes to mind. They were good!

In our experience, English restaurants know their way around a potato: the chips (fries) were excellent, the jacket potatoes (baked potatoes with skin) were excellent, the mash (mashed potatoes) was excellent.

Oh! A very surprising thing to us: one evening we got take-out Chinese food, and IT DID NOT COME WITH RICE. We despaired a bit about the rice, thinking “Oh no, this is one of those cultural things and we were supposed to order it separately!”—and then looked back at the menu, where rice was not even listed. The food came with some puffed scoopy things—something in the neighborhood of rice cakes or pork rinds. We don’t know if this is typical in England or if we encountered an anomaly.

Scones, famously, were different/better than the scones I’ve had in the United States. I’ve had the U.S. dry triangles; the English scones were round and biscuity (in the United States sense of the word biscuit, not in the British sense) and soft. I had heard people rave about clotted cream and jam on scones, and the first one I had, I thought “Oh, sure, that’s nice,” but didn’t see the big deal. But then a day or two later I had the opportunity to add a cream tea (that’s the scone/cream/jam plus a coffee or tea) to my lunch, and I did. And a day or two after that I found myself questing for more, and now that we’re home I’m pining, and Paul is experimenting with making clotted cream from raw milk he bought at a local farm, and we’re both browsing scone recipes online. So apparently it just takes a little time for the addiction to take hold.

England Packing Part 2: Peanut Butter, Knee Supports, Cutlery, Shampoo/Lotion/Etc., British Cash, Hat/Sunscreen, Addresses

To continue the Post-England-Trip Packing Thoughts:

I was VERY GLAD we brought a jar of peanut butter for the picky vegetarian. (They do sell peanut butter in England! But not Jif. You heard me say picky.) We DID find MANY vegetarian options in England, and Rob ate well because Rob will eat normal vegetarian things such as beans and spices and noodles and, like, VEGETABLES; Elizabeth ate a fair amount of potatoes and cheese, and then I would later find her eating spoonfuls of peanut butter straight from the jar (we never did acquire bread, though easily could have; she didn’t want it).

I was also very glad that William had thought somehow to bring some disposable cutlery: Elizabeth used one of his spoons for the peanut butter, and we ALL used them the night we ordered Chinese food delivered and discovered it did not come with disposable chopsticks. We wished we had also brought disposable bowls; Paul usually travels with them but hadn’t brought them this time, and we ended up eating Chinese food out of hotel coffee mugs, which worked fine but felt wrong. (We rinsed the mugs in the sink afterward, so the hotel cleaners would not be surprised.)

I was glad I brought my bath pouf. It feels like such a hassle to bring it (shaking out all the water, putting it inevitably-still-damp in a ziploc bag, bringing it out at each hotel and remembering to take it with us when we leave, the feeling that it might be picking up International Spores), but it’s really not such a big deal, and also I dislike using wash cloths for body-washing so it was a nice little familiar comfort to have my usual pouf.

I don’t have an extensive Face Routine, but I do use toner after seeing it mentioned on Twitter as a response to a question about what little life-changing thing would you recommend to others: someone replied that people should use toner even if they don’t know what it’s for or how to use it perfectly. Sold! I also use a crepe corrector on my neck, and a nice face-washing bar or cream in the shower (right now I’m using Yes to Avocado, and I’m excited because I have on deck a very reduced bottle of Confidence in a Cleanser, which I originally tried when a friend bought it for me as a birthday gift). (If it’s still $20.40 for the 5-ounce when you read this, and if it looks right for your skin and you’re willing to spend that much on an untried cleanser, I recommend it: the 5-ounce has been $34 as long as I’ve had it in my cart, and I was EXCITED to find the 1.7-ounce at T.J. Maxx for $6.99-marked-down-to-$4: the 1.7-ounce is what my friend gave me, and used sparingly but almost-daily it lasted me MONTHS.) I did not bring any of these things with us, and I was not sorry: everything while traveling takes so much EFFORT (bringing all my things into the bathroom every day, instead of accessing them where they already live), I was glad to skip some steps. I used the hotel’s body wash on my face in the shower, and I used my usual day moisturizer and one of of my three usual night moisturizers (that is, I have three different night moisturizers I like, and I pick one each night; I don’t use three different things each night).

Speaking of which: the travel agent had advised us to consider bringing our own shampoo/conditioner/soap/lotion: she said most hotels WOULD provide them, but that they would be VERY strongly scented. I remembered the “institutional public bathroom” scent of the products in most hotels I’ve been to in the U.S., so I bought a million travel sizes for us and had each person make themselves a ziploc bag full of the ones they needed.

We did not use them at all. The hotels we went to had scented stuff that WAS strongly scented, but in EXACTLY the way I personally like: sharp unsweetened (no vanilla or powder) botanicals such as lavender, rose, verbena, geranium, and neroli. And the kids didn’t care enough to take out their ziploc bags, and ONE kid liked one of the conditioners so much, they had us all take home any extras we had. We ended up with a lot of unused travel bottles, but that’s fine, they DO get used for other things, such as traveling to hotels in the U.S., which I will be doing a LOT with the twins in college 8 hours away.

I was glad to have brought British cash, which I was nervous about after many, many, MANY people said don’t bring cash, no one takes cash, you can’t even use cash, you will not need cash. Everywhere I tried to use cash did in fact take cash (though I did overhear someone saying they didn’t take cash, at a place where I was not planning to use it). And here were the things we absolutely needed cash for: tipping housekeeping at hotels; tipping at restaurants that did not have a thingie for adding a tip; tipping the tour guides and drivers; giving money to panhandlers/buskers; paying to use a bathroom that cost 50p and had a little box and no other way to pay. Here were things I LIKED having cash for: buying a few postcards at a somewhat dicey little shop; putting a small donation in a box at a church we were touring, which asked for a donation if you wished to take photos; having the leftover cash as pleasing little souvenirs. I wish I’d used cash for MORE things, so that I would have had enough pound and two-pound coins to give to all the children to keep.

Speaking of tipping, that was another thing I kept hearing, which was that tipping Was Not Done in England and in fact Should Not Be Done as it indicated some sort of class insult. Perhaps it was that we were only in touristy areas, but tipping was Absolutely Done, as I was glad some of you had already told me. The travel agent in fact gave us what we all considered pretty wildly-high estimates of what we should tip tour guides and tour-bus drivers, which we did not follow but we DID tip, and I think the wildly-high estimates made us tip higher than we otherwise would have. But it was true that restaurants were different: sometimes the tip was added automatically, but it was an amount we’d consider unacceptably low in the U.S., like 5% or 10%; sometimes there was no way to add a tip to the credit-card payment, and I was nervous about leaving cash on the table because I wondered if that was okay. There were no taxis big enough for all of us and our luggage, so we took TWO taxis from the airport to our first hotel, and Paul’s taxi had a way to add a tip but mine did not. And we were not CONSTANTLY ASKED for tips the way it has started to happen in the U.S., where for example there is a tipping option even if you buy something up at the cash register where no tipping should be expected.

I was very glad to have a HAT. I don’t normally wear a hat or like hats, but I remembered other times when I was outside for much of the day (typically I am The Indoors Type), and I don’t have bangs so my forehead can get pretty pink/freckly even if I use sunscreen; and also I wear glasses which makes sunglasses tricky (I do know about prescription and transition lenses, but I’ve tried them and I don’t like them), so the sun glare can be irritating. When I saw a $10 grey cap with an embroidered daisy (I can’t find it online because there’s no brand on it, but it’s similar in appearance to this one) at T.J. Maxx, and it was big enough to fit not only my big head but also the bulk of a casual-French-twist hairstyle, I bought it—and I used it often and was glad to have it.

Perhaps it goes without saying that I was also glad to have sunscreen. I used it relentlessly, and STILL ended up with a little bit of a tan on my arms/neck.

I brought my trekking poles but did not use them; I felt too self-conscious, and also felt like they’d be burdens to carry around when I wasn’t using them. (They were GREAT, though, when I was visiting my parents and we did a lot of hiking: my knees appreciated not only the support but also the stabilization.) (Also: I saw LOTS of tourists using them, so I think I would bring them again next time.) I did however wear and HUGELY appreciate the Incrediwear knee sleeve/brace (I got the grey one in XXL) commenter Katrina recommended, which I bought not only because of her personal recommendation of it but also because she said her physical therapist recommended it and uses it herself. I found it snugly comfy and comforting on my knee, and frankly I thought it looked surprisingly sporty and even cute emerging from the bottom of my shorts.

I did buy compression socks, and then didn’t use them. I bought them because a number of people mentioned using them, but then I thought, “Wait. Have my legs/feet ever swelled or been uncomfortable on a flight?” and no, they have not. And I was going to be wearing shorts on the plane. And it all seemed like too much, in the stress of the final packing. So I didn’t wear them, and I have put them aside with our suitcases in case I want/need them in the future.

I was glad to have brought a list of ADDRESSES! I wanted to send postcards! And I regret not sending MORE postcards, but (1) it was 2 pounds 20 pence per stamp, and (2) I didn’t find a place to buy stamps until the last few days of the trip. But I was still glad to have BROUGHT the addresses, and would do so again in the future, because now I know for sure that I LOVE sending postcards and would like to do more of that next time, and now I know that I did not feel AFTER the purchase of the stamps that it hadn’t been worth it.

Okay, I think that’s all my packing notes for now. Next up: Things That Were Surprising in England, and/or Things I Bought as Souvenirs, and/or Things We Ate!

Back from England! Packing: Rain Gear / Laundry Gear / Medications / Shoes

Good morning, we are back from England! I have coffee brewing in my own coffee pot and a second load of laundry in the washing machine!

Since I am unpacking right now, I am going to jot down some notes about packing: what we used, what we didn’t use, what we wished we’d had, etc. When people gave us advice ahead of time, I noticed it was EXTREMELY MIXED: one person’s “Make sure you bring X” was another person’s “Don’t waste space bringing X.” My newly cosmopolitan conclusion is this: it makes much more sense to use phrasings such as “We found X essential” or “We thought we’d use X but we didn’t” (as opposed to saying OTHER PEOPLE won’t need it or OTHER PEOPLE will find it essential), ESPECIALLY if there is some information about WHY—because people vary enormously, and people’s travel experiences vary enormously, and one person’s “Didn’t need it, didn’t want it, didn’t use it” is another person’s “We relied on it for our happiness.”

For example: a coworker told me NOT to bring a dress for Tea, because their family packed dresses and never used them. Fortunately for me, she added a Why: instead of the dresses, they just wore their Nicer Clothes, like trousers and blouses. Well, I do not even OWN trousers or blouses. So I brought a dress, and I wore it not once but twice: once to a fancy tea, and once to an unexpected dinner at the kind of place where one does not wear a graphic t-shirt and cargo shorts. And I am making a resolution for the future to purchase at least one semi-dressy outfit: pants nicer than jeans or cargo shorts; shirt nicer than a t-shirt.

Many, many people told me raincoats were ESSENTIAL. And I would say this: raincoats would have been nice to have, because it rained at least a little bit almost every single day, and often rained on-and-off all day. But I was not going to buy seven raincoats for a single trip (well, six raincoats: Rob is grown and can buy his own raincoat if he wants one) (but he’s RECENTLY grown, so we were trying to help cover some of his expenses for this trip, and raincoats acquired for the trip would have been something I would have included him in), and although several times I envied people who had raincoats, I did not wish I’d bought seven (six) (seven) raincoats; and right now I am glad not to be trying to find space in the house for them. Also: I don’t know about you, but if I wear a raincoat when I don’t need a raincoat, I find it hot/oppressive. We did bring some of those $1.79 emergency ponchos, and a couple of us used them when there was a serious downpour, but most of us just got wet and/or used umbrellas. If we were to start traveling regularly to places where it tends to rain pretty much every day, I would likely buy raincoats; if any of us already owned raincoats, I would have brought them along; if only two of us were going on the trip instead of seven of us, I would have bought them.

Shoes, though. I was trying to pack light, but I should absolutely have brought two pairs, because my sneakers kept getting wet—and would have gotten wet even if I’d been wearing a raincoat. It would have been very nice to have a dry pair to wear while the other pair was drying. (Fellow travelers from my group strongly recommend good supportive sandals instead, and I can see how sensible that would be, but I cannot stannnnnnnnnnd the feeling of dusty feet, it makes me truly deep-down physically miserable, so this is from my sneakers-wearing point of view.) I was glad I hadn’t bought new special walking shoes for the trip, because sneakers were fine; again, if we started regularly traveling, I might want to invest in something different/better, but I was glad not to have bought seven (six) new pairs of shoes, or to be trying to find space in the house for them now.

I’d been planning to pack umbrellas, but I took the advice of commenters Em and Sophie who suggested buying souvenir umbrellas in England, and this was great: it was fun to choose them, and the commenters were correct that the umbrellas were inexpensive (7-10 pounds) and cute and readily available. I bought one subtle tones-of-grey London skyline and one British flag pattern, and if anything I wish I’d bought a third.

I was very glad to have a little travel bottle of Febreze, because I used it on my damp sneakers and on clothing I wanted to wear again.

I was very glad to have some laundry detergent with us (my sister-in-law put travel Tide in our stockings at Christmas), so that I could wash clothes in the sink. Even things I’d thought I’d brought plenty of, such as socks, ran out because I got sweaty/wet more often than I’d expected.

I will have to go back and look, but I don’t think anyone mentioned that we should bring allllllll the less-drowsy Dramamine we thought we’d need plus perhaps two extra bottles. We ran out (I had budgeted for the plane, but had forgotten to budget for bus excursions), and I went to half a dozen stores and could not find it. All I could find (and I had to ask at a pharmacy for it, because they kept it behind the counter) was something called Stugeron 15 (cinnarizine) which one kid said did not work well and made them very sleepy. Fortunately I’d brought plenty of motion sickness patches, which I originally tried only because Chrissy Teigen said on Twitter that they worked, and they DO seem to work; they don’t work as thoroughly as Dramamine, but I can use them for shorter and/or less problematic travel.

I was glad I’d brought plenty of benadryl and melatonin; the jet lag was rough, and also some of us have trouble sleeping in unfamiliar places. I was glad some commenters mentioned that we would not be able to buy hydrocortisone cream in England; I tossed a tube into my suitcase, and we DID end up using it: one kid got some sort of mystery hive, and another kid got a little rash on their arm.

This is just going to have to be a series of posts, because look how long this is already, and all I have covered is rain gear and laundry stuff and medications and shoes.

Nice/Important

Yesterday evening, as I was locking up, the door out to the garage was being difficult, so I pulled it back and shut it again with more firmness. This caused a breeze that knocked a nearby spider out of its web and onto the floor. As I prepared to scream and run (I ALLOW spiders, but I do not want them SKITTERING TOWARD ME), a much, much larger spider came darting out from behind a shelf, grabbed the fallen, struggling spider, and dragged it back behind the shelf. I think I’ve mentioned that when I was a young child my dad was a pastor; immediately I began thinking of how to build a sermon around this incident.

As my, let’s call it agitation, ramps up before the England trip (last night I sent myself five emails from my phone between 10:02 and 10:44, as I kept thinking of more things after going to bed), I am once again practicing the art and science of separating Nice from Important.

Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a clean house after an exhausting vacation? Oh it certainly would! But if I don’t get to it, that is not Important: the messy house might be Less Nice to come home to, but that’s fine. It’s not WRONG to spend an extra ten minutes bleaching/scrubbing the shower before work, especially when it’s too early to pack and my agitation needs something to occupy it; and definitely I know from experience I will fervently thank myself for anything I DO do—but it’s not Important. Even if the shower mildew Took Charge in our absence, and I came home and saw it and felt like crying, I would nevertheless manage to bleach the hell out of it, and all would once again be well. (Still, I was glad I got around to cleaning our shower, and that the kids were managed into cleaning theirs.)

It would be Nice if we could remember to toss all the perishables before we go. But if we forget, or if tossing them in the trash would mean the trash would be revolting to come home to, then that’s not Important: we can toss out some moldy sour cream when we get home, we can pour out the iffy milk when we get home. It would be really, really nice if I would remember to wash out the coffee pot and leave it in the drying rack; but if I don’t, and I come home to week-and-a-half old coffee, I will wash it out then. Coming home is going to be a giant to-do list no matter what, and I have the next day off from work.

There are already some items that it turns out we are Just Not Going To Acquire, despite being told to acquire them (for example, several days before the trip, the travel agency said many places won’t allow backpacks so each of us should have a smaller bag; that does not appear likely to happen), and some of those things are making me nervous—but if we desperately regret not having them, we can acquire them in England. It’s not important that we get them ahead of time; it might not be important to acquire them at all. I’m remembering when a child went to camp, and the camp list said they HAD to have rain boots, were absolutely REQUIRED to have rain boots, and we did NOT have much spare money so I was very grateful to find some at 75% off at Target, and the child did not wear them one single time at camp.

But leaving an authorization (for emergency cat/home repairs) for the cat-sitter is Important. Making sure windows/doors are closed and locked is Important. Bringing Edward’s essential medications and Elizabeth’s Epi-pens is Important. Our passports and driver’s licenses are Important: if we forget those, we CANNOT GO.

Then there are some things that are in the middle: they’re Important, but they’re manageable in an emergency, and/or the consequences might be Quite Unpleasant But Not Life/Trip-Threatening. Having enough cat food and cat litter in the house is in this category. Sure, in a true emergency (oh no, raccoons broke in and ate all the cat food!!) the cat-sitter could go to the store and buy some, but we REALLY DO NOT WANT TO HAVE TO ASK HER TO DO THAT, so acquiring plenty of both items was a priority and has been accomplished. Running the dishwasher and/or washing dishes and/or getting all dishes out of the kids’ rooms is likewise in this category: no one would die, and the trip would still happen, but the nasty dishes/aromas/flies would be so very unpleasant to come home to and have to deal with.

England Trip Prep

I am going to England. I am going in a week, with a large extended-family group. I haven’t known how to bring it up.

I have never traveled out of my country. I have barely traveled within my own country. I am not really a traveler. I have a dear friend who has just returned from a trip to England and is familiar with how my brain works, and she advises mentally preparing ahead of time to go with the flow. I will be so breezy! Lost luggage? An excuse to buy clothes in England! Like the time Carsick Toddler Elizabeth barfed just as we arrived at the mall, and instead of despairing and turning the car around and driving the 40 minutes back home, I went into Target and bought her the cute pink four-piece mix-and-match Carter’s elephant pajamas set I’d wished for an excuse to buy, and then took her into the bathroom and changed her, and put her barfy clothes neatly into the plastic Target bag the clerk had just used for the new pink elephant pajamas! Day saved! I still rejoice in that triumph, and I do not miss the $14.99!

We have acquired some English/British pounds. We have been told that tipping is not a thing in England, but my feeling is that hotel-room cleaners are underpaid the world over, and would not say no to some cash. I was a little worried that it would be considered insulting, but then I thought, what if I were a hotel maid in a touristy area anywhere in the world: wouldn’t I be aware that tipping customs varied widely? I feel as if I would be aware of that. I feel like AT WORST I would think “Those silly Americans, ignorant of our local customs!”/”Yay extra money to buy groceries/electricity!”

We have arranged a cat-sitter, the dear daughter of a dear friend. I have been very skittish about people in our house ever since The Housecleaner Situation, which let’s say no more about, and this was one of my most stressful arrangements to consider. I thought about each possible candidate, and considered how safe and comfortable I would feel having them in my house, and the one at the very top of my list was available and willing, so I am feeling very lucky. And her mother is one of the most competent and capable people I know, and exactly who you’d want on hand in an emergency, so that’s a nice feeling for if anything DOES go wrong. (She was the emergency contact on my passport form, too: she would have my corpse shipped home like billy-o!)

I am trying not to overdo the packing, but I am a not a pack-light person. I keep reassuring myself that as long as we have our passports and credit cards, we can figure everything else out. People LIVE in England, and THEY manage to find conditioner and acetaminophen and hair elastics and lip balm! They might CALL them something else, but they HAVE them!

I don’t have a concept of what clothes to pack for early July in England. Shorts and t-shirts and sunhats? Sweaters and raincoats? I will just bring it all. I am bringing a baggie of laundry detergent so I can wash things in the sink. Or, are there washing machines in/near English hotels? I guess I’ll soon know!

Paul is in charge of Electrical/Computer/Phone. He has purchased various adapters, and arranged various phone plans. We had a slightly baffling conversation about nightlights: he was assuming I would want them in England, and had been doing research. I do not want at all want nightlights in England. AT HOME we have these fabulous nightlights that come on automatically if there’s a power failure and can instead be used as flashlights if needed (that’s the Target link; here’s the Amazon link if preferred) (honestly if your power EVER goes out where you live, GET THEM, you will BLESS YOUR OWN NAME when the power goes out—and in the meantime they make fabulous nightlights), and it’s true I have them sort of “all over the house” (top of the stairs, bottom of the stairs, all the bathrooms, kitchen, laundry room, hallway), but that does not mean I need them IN ENGLAND.

Two of my big frets are Elizabeth’s tree nut allergy (we will have benadryl and Epi-pens in several backpacks) and her vegetarianism. Her vegetarianism wouldn’t be a big deal if she weren’t also a picky eater. I am literally bringing a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter and a few plastic disposable knives, based on two previous trips where I fervently wished I had done so.

My biggest fret of all is probably Edward, because Edward is immunocompromised and we will be traveling, and the pandemic doesn’t mind one little bit that we said it was over, it’s still going right ahead and damaging/killing people! I found out only two days ago that a month ago the CDC approved a second bivalent Covid-19 booster for immunocompromised people, so we went today to get that done. I was worried the pharmacist would want me to prove Edward’s immunocompromised status (an earlier pharmacist wanted that), but she did not; she just gave the booster. Probably she could see that the earlier shots on the Covid-19 card were clearly on an immunocompromised schedule, or maybe it’s just that now there’s no competition for vaccines so no one thinks we’re trying to get away with something. I am remembering that it takes a couple of weeks for the booster to kick in, but maybe that’s wrong, and anyway at least there’s one week to get it on board, and that’s better than not.

And I am a little fretful about my knees. I have purchased two knee braces to try. I have trekking poles. I have sneakers, though they’re a little worn and I wish they were newer/springier—but at least they’re broken-in and familiar.

Sometime this week I am going to go to a used book store and buy a stack of used books. I like to have inexpensive used copies so I can leave them behind as I finish them, which gives me more room in my luggage for souvenirs.

Souvenirs! What souvenirs should I buy in England? What are some things they have in England that we don’t have in the United States, and which can fit in a suitcase?

College Student Care Package Questionnaire Ideas

Hello Swistle!

Hi! How are you? I have a question that you may already have an answer to and if you don’t it may be a fun thing to ask your bloggy community…

I would like to put together a questionnaire for some of the seniors that we are close to who are headed off to college in August. Kind of like a “favorite things” survey each young person can fill out and return to me (in an envelope I’ll stamp and address). We were invited to a bazillion graduation parties and just did a small “gift” for each of those ($20.23 check). For the people we are closer to/might have done a more significant gift for, I thought I’d send care packages sometime after school starts up in August. Instead of guessing what they’d like I want to KNOW what they will find delightful. Things I’m thinking of asking about include: snack preferences, local/national places they’d like gift cards to, favorite online stores, favorite school supplies (maybe that’s just a me thing?). What else would you ask or think to include in that kind of survey? Is this dumb? Do you think any kids will return it? Lol!

This seemed like something you might enjoy thinking about – bonus points if you or a reader have a PDF template that already exists!

I hope your graduation season is going well – does it feel like your job to go to grad parties?!

Love,
Kelsey

 

What a fun idea. When I did Galentine’s Day care packages, I used this questionnaire and found it more useful than I would have expected:

• Does the recipient drink coffee? tea? cocoa?

• Allergies / sensitivities / dietary restrictions?

• Prefer a sort of FOOD-BASED box or more of a NON-food-based box?

• Favorite color, in case something has a color choice?

• Would hair elastics or hair clips be of any use?

• Anything else that might be helpful to know?

 

I added a section about answering as many or as few questions as desired, and said that I could also do it no-answers-all-surprises if preferred.

I think in the past I’ve asked about favorite scents, which can be useful. Someone might say “Vanilla and lavender!” or “Anything floral!” and then you have a whole world to choose from. Or they might say “Nothing floral!” or “Unscented only!” and then you know.

For college students, I would definitely ask about school supplies and snacks; I’d add a sub-question about salty/sweet—like “Favorite snacks? salty/sweet?” in the hopes of getting more info. And I might add a question such as “Room decor/theme, if applicable?” It might not lead to anything, but you could get an answer like “DAISIES!!” or “NEON!!!” or “STAR WARS!!” or “NOTHING YELLOW!!” and then you would have something to really dig your teeth into.

After “Favorite color, in case something has a color choice?,” I might add “Favorite animal, in case something has an animal choice?”

I might also add some sort of question about the ideal time to get a care package, depending on how willing you are to work with that. “Any particular ideal time to get a care package, or random?” Maybe someone would say “Finals week!” or “My birthday November 3rd!,” or someone would mention a day they knew would be a sad one for them, or maybe someone would say they would LOVE a Halloween box.

I think some kids might not fill it out but, looking at my own kids of this age, I think it would be because they put it aside to do it later and then forgot about it, rather than that they thought it was silly. I tried to think of a way to add a lighthearted deadline, but all my ideas sounded kind of…mommish. Not that there’s anything wrong with mommish!

More ideas for useful questionnaire questions?

Father’s Day Gift Ideas

Hey, what are you getting your dad for Father’s Day this year, if applicable? I wonder if we might make a comments section to help out those of us who are still looking for a good idea. My dad likes delightful/interesting/regional food and graphic tees, sometimes kitchen tools and workshop tools. If anyone knows of an online place that ships delightful/interesting/regional food, I would be interested in hearing about it. In the past I have liked O&H Danish Bakery and Nuts.com.

And what about the father of your children, if applicable? This year the father of my children has made things easy for me by making two remarks about things he might like to have—and both things absolutely SMACK of Father’s Day: one is a four-pack of Night Shift Peach Piescraper beer, and the other is a set of extra-long tongs for the grill. If he’s very, very good this year I might also get him the new Zelda game (which would be more of a summer-vacation gift for him plus several of the kids), but otherwise I feel like I’m all set there.

Up Early

I am up early and wild-eyed, because I woke up needing to pee at 3:30 a.m., and then I lay awake going over to-do lists that were not at all doable at 3:30 a.m., thinking that I MUST sleep but that it was looking like I might not be able to—and then I DID drift off!!! …just before Paul’s alarm, which he had forgotten to shut off when he woke up before it went off, went off at 4:45. So I am up for the day, and not best pleased.

This alarm-clock thing has been happening jusssst often enough to make me want to throw his alarm clock against a wall, or perhaps against him, but not QUITE often enough to make a big deal about it. Like, it’s been happening about once every two weeks, and it’s been happening like this for maybe six months now—but after decades of not being an issue, so it’s a little perplexing. This morning I did make a little bit of a big deal about it, because this week (twin high school graduation and many, many end-of-year activities/ceremonies; twin 18th birthdays with all the doubled shopping and wrapping and cake-baking and special-dinner-making; twin college-prep stuff; many other miscellaneous things such as cats having vet appointments and one of Elizabeth’s art pieces needing to be picked up an hour away and Henry mentioning that one of the lenses keeps popping out of his glasses) is about as busy for me as the busiest pre-Christmas week, and I have SO much to do, and there are so many uncertainties (will it rain, which will absolutely bork graduation plans? will I be able to find the ingredient two separate grocery stores were out of?) and I have been counting on good sleep in order to cope with all of these tasks as well as to cope unshriekingly with the freshly-tilled awareness of how uneven the workload is in these sorts of busy times, and how after 25 years I can apparently like it or lump it. And then his alarm. Well.

I have been discovering once again how getting even the lowest-priority items off the to-do list can make a marked difference in my despair levels. Yesterday I put a little air in the car tire that periodically needs a little air, and also I filled the gas tank even though it still had just over a quarter tank, and even getting those two little things accomplished was enough to make me feel like I could cope at a higher level than before with the things that were more essential to get done, such as finding a Spotify gift card.

I also used the adrenaline momentum of coming home from So!! Many!! Errands!! to make a phone call: we keep getting medical bills for Edward’s routine medication infusions that are multiple hundreds of dollars rather than our usual $20 copay; and normally the hospital Edward goes to is impressively brisk and efficient at handling all these stressful little glitches behind the scenes without us having to do anything about it (which I regularly notice and feel grateful for, because of how often I have to leap and re-leap through hoops to get things covered for other medical providers); but this time we’re starting to get letters with deadlines after which they will send it to collections, so this time I called. I got someone very nice, who could not help at all. I honestly was not sure why they were answering the phone, when they could not tell me ANYTHING or do ANYTHING about ANYTHING. But they were very NICE, and they DID “send it to code review” and assured me that in the meantime I did not have to worry about paying it. They said that in their experience, almost every situation is completely resolved by code review. My guess is that the reason this is the only thing the person on the phone knows how to do is that someone EXTREMELY COMPETENT normally keeps these issues from getting to this point; very likely that same person is in charge of code-reviewing.

Anyway it felt nice to have made that call, which has been hovering over me. Why do I put off things that MUST be done? Am I trying to maximize the amount of time I spend being unhappy and stressed about them? (Though in this particular case I feel I have an excuse, since USUALLY my procrastination is rewarded. But I mean OVERALL.)