Is this the real life or is this just fantasy?

Today is Berit's 16th birthday. There's pizza. And cake. C'mon over.

It's our first day home from England. Hard to believe it's over. A whirlwind of English adventures that I hope we'll all remember fondly as we negotiate everyday life, which while most excellent, can also be mundane. I guess the trick is to view the every days as adventures in themselves. Except it's easier to do that when you're in a foreign land and around every corner is something new to smack you upside the head.

Monday night we went to see We Will Rock You, the long-running Queen musical at the Dominion Theater in Soho. The story is set in a dystopic future in which rock is dead, replaced by repetitive electronic constructs controlled by the government. The only chance to revive and save music on the iPlanet is for a pre-ordained hero to pull a sacred axe from a stone. The axe was left there by none other than Freddy Mercury. The protagonist is Galileo Figaro. Need I say more? Awesome. 

On the same day, the new heir to the throne was born - George Alexander - and so after the show we walked down to Leicester Square. Yes, people were partying in the street, but it didn't seem to be any more than usual. We'd expected more, actually, not just because of the royal birth but also because Johnny Depp was reported to have been in Leicester Square that night promoting a new movie. The kids went into M&M World before we left for Snog, the groovy, all-natural frozen yogurt shop.

Oh, and on Monday night it rained. It was our last night and the first rain we saw in England. The first rain anyone had seen in London for a while, and cheers in the streets went up with each thunderclap. Unideal for sleeping.

Did I happen to mention that while we were in England, Rowan spent every spare moment of down time reading? It's true. In the car, reading. In line at castles, reading. On the underground, reading. During the 20 days that we spent in England, Rowan read nine books - the entire Harry Potter series (the British versions) plus two others.

Tuesday we packed, we shopped, and we left. Our flight was at 4:05, though I misremembered it as being 4:30, depriving us of an essential 25 minutes as we tried to milk the last moments from London. It was probable 1:15 pm by the time we got to Piccadilly Circus to catch the tube to Heathrow, and it wasn't looking good for getting there two hours prior to departure. So at the last minute, we bit the bullet and caught a cab. At Heathrow just after 2:00 p.m. to check our bags, negotiate the airport, write some postcards, and fly.

Some sort of clerical error at the home office found us in business class rather than coach. We didn't complain. And we slept like babies when we got home.

It's Berit's birthday, but it's mellow. We're all wicked tired. And tomorrow I have to go to work. A different sort of adventure, altogether ("A different sort of adventure!")