don't think about the exchange rate; just cringe and fork over the pounds

Being back in an English-speaking country was actually a little disorienting, at first! But it's so great to be among friends. Mark and I immediately sat down and starting joking around with each other, and it was the same the next morning - Jane and I had breakfast together, and she is just SO lovely and easy to talk to.
And I met the little guys! I hadn't seen them since C. was just two years old, and now there are four of them, all adorable. We fed cabbage leaves to the tortoise (that is not a weird euphemism for something. That is what we really did) and played in the sandbox that Jane has set up in the garden - it's in a large old porcelain sink; it's really cool!

One exorbitant train fare later, and I was in Hayward's Heath. It's been so great to see Naomi again, just like old times (I sat at her table eating cereal and she came up beside me and said "Ah, you're HERE! And you're eating out of a mug! Nothing has changed...")

Also, I love the Brits; they are so dry. Here's one exchange, let me see if I can do it justice in writing:
[Naomi's friend Donna is making a chicken dish. A neighbor lady is trying to learn how to make it, but she's having trouble - and getting frustrated - because Donna is sort of an improvisational cook.]
Naomi's mom: "See, we're trying to make it the way Donna does, but she doesn't use a recipe."
Neighbor lady: "Well, she DOES. But it's in her head. What we need to do is extract it."