When we were younger, we played a game in Pakistan, where someone covered their eyes and the rest of ran while that person yelled, L-O-N-D-O-N, LONDON! You had to freeze after the chanting was over and if you moved, something happened. I cannot recall what now, but basically, you couldn't move. Whenever my sisters and I say London, now it must be preceeded by the spelling.
We have a tradition of sending postcards home as well, as many as we can, even if it means that we have a two hour stop over somwhere, just so that we are on the fridge at home. This started with my elder sister and when she started traveling and basically started taking over the fridge. Many times, I send a postcard home that will only say,
I'm on the fridge, yay.
So, I am indeed in London at this B&B in Dorset. It reminds me of upstate NY, which I have wisely chosen not to tell the Brits I am chilling with since they want to think that there is no other place in the planet that is as gorgeous and wonderful as Dorset. There is, and it is called upstate NY, Ithaca to be exact, up near the finger lakes where my aunt has a farm where we go hang out every once in a while.
I had cottage pie and that was yummy. Esp since it is still a little bit chilly out here, it was perfect. I have to run and get dressed now. More later.