Grandma the Octogenarian

Today, I realized that if there is one thing I admire about my 'Grandma England', it would be her extraordinary ability to host a proper party. At her 80th birthday bash, with nearly 50 people in attendance, my grandma charmed her guests with eloquent speeches in her "you'd never guess I'm 80" manner, and orchestrated an event at which all family members and friends could get reacquainted. My dad, grandma and I arrived early to set up the flowers and cards in the room. Before we had time to lay out the last of the decorations, guests started to trickle in until the room was bulging with people ranging from close family to people my dad hadn't seen since he was a boy. I will never forget my dad's reaction when it dawned on him that the lovely lady with whom he had been chatting to for over an hour was, in fact, a lady he had admired some thirty odd years ago as a young man. The shock couldn't be shaken out of him!

I was sat at a table with my five cousins - two younger and two older - and my aunt Lois, aunt Sheila and uncle Phil. In a way, I was thankful to have been separated from my dad since it allowed me to speak with my cousins not as an attachment to "uncle Peter," but as their cousin. The most touching moment was when my younger cousin Kirsty came up, hugged my arm and said "I love you, Heather," even though she hardly knows me. It made spending the $1500 to come over here worth every penny.

The highlight of the event itself was when a guest speaker named Rhona Powell put on a comedic performance of a selection of poetry about getting old. The poetry was saturated in traditional, and sometimes rather naughty British humour that you'd never hear elsewhere. My grandma told me that she had seen her perform once in Tamworth and was impressed enough to invite her to the celebration to add a touch of comedic spice to the hotpot. The proceedings she earns from each event apparently go to the hospice, which I think is a wonderful cause. As she fed the laughter in the room, I found myself feeling very fortunate to be participating in this perfect example of British culture not as a guest but as a member. If I weren't for my family, I'd be stuck touring Big Ben and gaping at the guards of Buckingham Palace the whole holiday, never actually experiencing the true essence of English culture. I guess I've been fortunate in many ways because I had a similar experience in Japan through living with a host family. There is no other way to understand a country, me thinks.

Yesterday was a little bit more low key, but just as nice. I had the idea to invite my cousins Kirsty and Mary, and my aunt Sheila to see Pirates of the Caribbean II since Kirsty is completely smitten with Johnny Depp, and Nick told me that he really enjoyed it. I can't say it was as good as the first PotC but if all you're after is a bit of lighthearted fun, it was the perfect choice. I mean, how often do you get to see Johnny Depp put on a Keith Richards imitation in a pirate's costume?? I guess my biggest qualm was that the story was lacking in substance and perhaps the plot was stretched out in too many directions. I also found that too many characters from the first movie were reused without reason, and a few new characters were introduced just for the sake of adding new faces to the series. In short, they probably could have done without half the characters and done just as well. The best part was the fight scene between Jack Sparrow, Will Turner and the commodore that took place on a rapidly rotating water wheel. I am not sure how they tweaked the graphics but I am guessing that in order to make the wheel appear to spin, they rotated the background and had the three actors battle it out on a stationary prop. Anyhow, it looked very real.

Afterwards, we went back to my cousin's place. My uncle Paul was waiting there for us and we had BBQ of chicken, potatoes, chips, tomatoes, sausages, and bacon, and it was amazingly delicious! Kirsty showed me her collection of necklaces in her room, and Mary put on her DVD of Wallace and Gromit that my dad had bought for her just before. We were also visited by their adopted cat Rose who had the most unusual colouring for a cat. For fun, I've been putting together pictures of British cats, and Rose became cat #5 in my collection.

Tomorrow, I bid Wolverhampton farewell for three days and head off to Cardiff, Wales to see my granddad's cousin Pam and her husband Darren. Pam was my dad's good friend when he was young, and was responsible for introducing my parents, so really, I am forever indebted to her!