Friday, May 23
When I got up, Ron was out biking. He was headed into town and made it about halfway before the roads got disconcerting enough to send him back. For breakfast/lunch I had popcorn.

Jon is off today to go register the baby, so they can get a birth certificate.

Then Jon came home and we went into town.

My right hip went out badly and I couldn’t walk around, so Ron went to find the ATM and they went to register the baby. I stayed out in front of the Town Hall.

The debit card didn’t work still, so Ron ended up on the phone again with the US Chase people.

As he was finishing that up, Micah texted me that he wasn’t going to be able to rent a car because they wouldn’t take his debit card.

So I got on the phone and called Enterprise. They won’t take a card over the phone AND the person on the card has to be registered as a driver on the car. That meant I couldn’t do it. I texted my sister and she called him and arranged to get him to the rental car place. Bless her, God, for that.

Then we went to Starbucks and hung out. Jon went and got a money order and Angela and Ron ran over to the drugstore. Josiah and I stayed in Starbucks.

After everything got done, we went to Taratino’s, the Italian restaurant that Angela wanted to try out. It was very good. I had Pasta Carbonara, which was a cream sauce, parmesan, and chicken (although it said it was bacon, it didn’t taste like that). Then we came home and watched The Chase, a British quiz show.

Ron picked up the British version of ibuprofen for me, because I am already through the pain killers I brought with me. I’ve managed to really mess up my hip. At least, that’s what I thought when I was in the States. Thankfully the trip over here was not painful at all. I’m guessing that was God’s grace—for which I am very thankful.

I’ve been sitting here a lot and my hip hurts. If I sit down, I have trouble using my right leg when I stand up. My calf goes into spasms. Not good.

Ron did a massage move from the second masseuse he used at home. My hip popped loudly enough that, with the door shut, Angela could hear it happening in the living room. He was moving my leg—and it felt good what he was doing—but my hip went pop every time he moved it around.

May 24, Saturday
This morning we got up… I think I was up first at 9 am. I didn’t eat any breakfast. I can’t remember what other people ate, but everyone else ate something.

Then about 11 we actually made it into Brentwood. Lovely little town. I got what I hope are some good shots of the church ruins from 1220. (A door is still there.) Angela and I went to the charity shops (thrift stores). There was a place selling smoothies, but I didn’t get one because I thought we might go to lunch. Not quite.

The guys had the baby and they went to Starbucks. Well, that was where we thought they were going. Turns out they went to The Fish Shop for lunch.

So, Angela and I haven’t eaten, but they guys have. It’s now 2:30. Ron wants to go to the pharmacy. (I am disappointed it’s not called a chemist’s shop.) Ron was looking for naproxen for me, which in England is known as Naprosyn. He can only find pertamodol—acetaminophen in addition to the Nurofren—ibuprofen he already found. He buys me a pack.

Why? Well, apparently I’ve managed to do a good bit of damage not just to my hip, but to my back. My right foot goes to sleep as soon as I sit down. That’s a nerve issue. I did have some numbness, after some tingling, in the US. But I went and saw a chiropractor twice and each time it got better.

When I walk after sitting, my calf hurts badly enough to scream and my bum feels like someone is kicking me in the rear end with every step. It hurts to walk, but if I keep walking, it actually gets better. So I would rather walk, in pain, than sit. I know the pain will go away if I keep walking… Stopping and standing, though, is almost as bad as sitting.

When we were in the drugstore, I picked up a bottle of orange juice. At some point while we were in the store, Angela decided to go get some lunch, so she went down to the McDonald’s. … So now it is 3 pm and I’m the only one who hasn’t eaten.

After we get the car from the car park, we go to meet Angela and she is coming into the car park.

Then we go 15 minutes one direction to see Jon’s work. It’s cool, but the baby starts crying because he is hungry. I give him a bottle and he’s not happy—neither is his mother.

We get stuck in traffic after another 30-minute drive in the opposite direction. Jon eventually drives on the sidewalk to turn around. Don’t worry. People park in the darnedest places over here. Apparently anywhere that’s not marked no parking or driving, you can park and drive. Gets interesting when the car is parked in the middle of a two-way road that is smaller than our one-way roads.

We get to the mall and walk around. Ron picks up a block for the computers. (We have two converter blocks, but we have 2 computers, 2 iPads, and 2 phones with us.)

We look around other places including the Men Shop, which have model cars that can drive up walls. Eventually Ron buys socks and Jon buys a new wallet (lost his on Tuesday).

Then we’re off to Costco. While I walk around the parking lot, Jon goes in to get a replacement card and Angela feeds the baby. The baby is mighty hungry, despite the bottle an hour ago.

When we get in, I buy nuts, so I will have something to eat, and cokes to drink—since that’s what Angela drinks and we will be here for a week. I also buy some peanut butter. I need to eat.

We get back to the house about six pm and I am enervated. I open the nuts and eat some. I feel better after that. No one is fixing food. So I break open the bread that is going to expire in two days, expecting to eat it out of the package. Nope. It has to be cooked.

Angela makes a butter, garlic, and rosemary spread and goes to feed the baby. I cut the bread, add the spread, turn on the grill, and pop the bread in. How long does it have to cook? I ask. (The package says 8-10 minutes, but that’s at 200 degrees.) Angela says she doesn’t know, just watch it. So I look at it in about two minutes.

It looks fine, but it smells funny. I grab the mitt and take the pan out of the oven. The two back pieces have their spread burnt on. Very crispy bread, but the bread itself isn’t burnt.

Jon says not to worry, that Angela likes burnt bread. So I split the front loaf of bread between the three of us and cut up half the other loaf for Angela. She eats it while she is feeding the baby again.

Half an hour later, the baby is still eating! I say I’m hungry and Angela says I can cook the chicken in olive oil with a bell pepper. She likes rice with it.

I read the chicken package. It has potato starch.

I make the rice plain, with some butter.

Then I cut up a bell pepper, carefully, trying not to get any on my skin and washing my skin when I don’t succeed.

The pan is small so I cook half the chicken and divvy it up between Ron and Angela. Then I cook the other half and give about 2/3s to Jon.

I get a cup of rice, with some more butter. I had thought there was cheese, but all the slices are gone. It’s only pre-shredded cheese, which I can’t eat because it has potato starch on it. People like potato starch.

Angela eats the left overs from the second batch of chicken.

I clean up the dishes and run the dishwasher. The clothes washer was going as soon as we got home.

We watch a bunch of British cop shows, including Police Interceptors, for two hours, before those run out.

I’ve watched more television in Britain than I watched the whole rest of the year… And I’ve only been here three days. (How much? A total of 4 hours.)

Church tomorrow is at 1 pm.