Can someone please turn up the heat? It's getting cold over here (but we're still having fun)! ---SM

Another sunny day, and we started out early. I discovered that while Thanksgiving is, indeed an American tradition, it seems other parts of the world are aware of it, too.

Since I didn't bring pie-making materials with me to England and some American friends invited us over for Thanksgiving, I had to scurry to get the goods together. With my mom as the resident pie maker in the house, how could I not offer up her expertise?

Kellen and I headed to the grocery store where, upon recognizing my American accent, a fellow customer with a thick British accent said to me, "Happy Thanksgiving!" I got a kick out of that because today is a regular old day for England and everywhere else except the U.S. Later, a British store clerk who helped me mentioned he was having turkey dinner tonight with some American friends.

When we got home, the boys launched into pie-making extravaganza. Kellen mixed while Grant measured out ingredients. All those cooks in the kitchen turned out to be a good thing because the pie turned out great.

Later that evening, some Canadians joined us for the meal, and they said they have a Thanksgiving of sorts in Canada but celebrate in October. They had no idea of their own country's holiday origin except they like the food and they get a day off. That works, too.

Happy Thanksgiving! ---SM

I talked at length with a woman recently who told me that she loves her scooter. Basically a motorized wheelchair that tops out at 8 mph., she informed me that she has not attempted to take it to that speed, but it is her "freedom" and as long as she can see the world in whatever proximity that scooter will take her, she doesn't need to go far. Not even cold London rain stops her.

She's inspirational, really, and I'd like to think that our little clan has a similar outlook. This week we had a beautiful sunny day sneak up on us and we couldn't resist soaking in what little warmth it offered. We were headed on a lengthy Tube ride to a museum then decided on a shorter walk to Ham House, just down the river path from our house.

It was gorgeous and freezing and pastoral all at the same time, and we were virtually alone on the grounds with gardeners the only exception. Complaints from the boys were minimal, and mud and puddles were maximum. Grant fell once while walking behind me, and a man behind him swooped Grant up without missing a step then gently set him down all the while keeping a rapid walking pace.

Anyway, today it's the landscape I'm taking in---the landscape that makes up my world, including other people's inspiration and kindness; nature and its seasons; walks with the boys; taking peeks back in time at so many gorgeous old properties; playing tag in the gardens; talking at length with my mom about mundane and serious; eating peanut butter sandwiches, cheese, and carrots for lunch; and finding sticks for Grant and rocks for Kellen to add to their growing collection. ---SM

If the house is semi-quiet, and I have a feeling a boy or two have gone missing, I need only look as far as my mom's bedroom---the place the boys have adopted as their play place away from the playroom. It's on the top level of the house and far away from Babes, which means more privacy and less worry about another little boy who can take away their toys.

When I peeked in on them and asked, "Whatcha doin' boys?"

Kellen answered, "Just playin', Mama. Babes can't come in here because he takes our trains."

They learn so quickly... ---SM

Hounslow Urban Farm is one of London's largest---29 acres, that is, of pure pig, spitting llamas, Shetland ponies-cows-rams-rabbits-geese-chickens-turkeys-tropical birds, and well...you get the idea. They even have pedal-powered John Deere tractors. For three toddlers, that sounds like paradise.

Last week we attempted a visit, but they were closed for the season except on weekends. And this entire week Kellen asked me, "Mom, I have a good idea, how about we go to the farm today? Is it Saturday?"

So when Saturday finally came, Justin took them all by himself. Which means that today's picture gallery is compliments of his handiwork. But better yet, my mom and I spent a few hours in another kind of picture gallery admiring Turner landscapes and Pre-Raphaelite beauties at the Tate Britain.

E-I-E-I-O... ---SM

This week was brought to us by several rainy days but a few sunny ones, too, allowing us to enjoy the great outdoors sans umbrellas. England's parks are vast and beautiful, even when the weather has left them damp and muddy. And here---halfway across the world that I have always called home, I find that fall is still my favorite season, perhaps even more so as the colors continue to pop out of nature like neon signs alerting us all that winter is approaching.

We found a new favorite spot in Richmond Park where the trees and the leaf-covered ground looked like an illustration out of a fairy tale.

We also discovered Bushy Park, London's second largest nature preserve, where we had to pull off the path to let large horses and their riders pass us by. The boys were left the boys dumbfounded as their heads moved from left to right as the great beasts trotted past us. Grant said, "Mom, that horse is bigger than me," to which I replied, "Yes, Grant, he is," just before we moved back onto the path and almost into a mass of dung. We took the opportunity to examine poop from then and though the rest of our walk. The boys found it very funny that horse poop is so big and deer poop is so small and pellet-like. "Mom," said Kellen, "deer poop looks like Christmas balls. And my play-dough balls, too." To which I replied, "Sure, Kellen."

Finally, we had to run an errand in the the small town of Merton (close to Wimbledon) where we found Morden Hall Park, created by the family who made their money on the land from snuff-milling. An actual piece of the grinder remains there. Mostly, we were interested in running in the fields and Lennox was most intrigued with the marshy wetland portion, where he ran from puddle to puddle and splashed to his heart's content. ---SM

Dog pile! ---SM

If given the opportunity, Lennox will sit and build Lego structures for long stretches of time whenever one adult lingers somewhere in the room and older brother soldiers are not nearby guarding the blocks.

Fortunately, Lennox is a resilient little architect, making magnificent towers of blue, red, and yellow. The single blocks tend to be his favorites, fitting perfectly inside his little fingers, but he is advancing quickly.

Watch out Louis Sullivan! ---SM