I write whilst sipping a cool glass of Chardonnay, listening to a Michael Jackson mash-up, courtesy of my new friend Alexa. She's amazing. I just asked her to turn on the outside lights; she did. I asked her to turn down the volume - she obliged. She seems to follow instructions, without questioning or arguing; a bit like a friendly dog. I have officially met #DogFriend2, my sister's dog, who is more like a human, except that he doesn't talk. He looks at me with the same tender eyes as the original #DogFriend; he rolls over and likes it when his tummy is tickled; he licked my feet earlier. #DogFriend2 is an Australian Shepherd - streuth.
Speaking of animals, I can't stop thinking about the Peter Rabbit film I watched on the flight over. I am so confused - I have my suspicions that it is not entirely in line with the Beatrix Potter version. I asked my sister, who confirmed that in the book, there is no bit with an epipen; no nephew and certainly no nephew who works in Harrods; no explosives involved in blowing up the rabbits' habitat; no tree which subsequently falls onto that woman's house. To be fair, I was watching it in German, so anything could have happened really - there was definitely something about a rabbit. I'm just not sure what Beatrix Potter would have made of it all. And there is nothing funny about anaphylaxis - I've met her and she's no fun at all.
The day began in the morning, as it often does, but very early in the morning - 5am. My baby niece was crying her tiny head off, and this favourite (well, only) auntie offered to take charge. This was amongst my worst ideas ever and believe me, there is an exceptionally long list. I started writing a blogpost in my head, called 'Risk Assessing the Baby', but the ideas did not get too far as I couldn't take my eyes off her for a second - what if she crawls athletically into a wall? What if she swallows a part of a toy? What if she hits her head? What if, what if, what if.... I'm not a parent, but I am the product of two, plus I deal with 200 on a weekly basis and spend a lot of time writing risk assessments. I take my metaphorical hat off to any of you who parent - I don't know how you do it - I struggled with the lizard. Have I mentioned the lizard? He's resident here in house, in his very own cage. He's just like one of those Beanie Baby lizards, with beading on top, except that he is alive and can move and poke his tongue out, in a way that beaded Beanie Baby lizards cannot. He can also bite, my brother-in-law informed me, shortly after I had been stroking his beaded self (the lizard, not the brother-in-law).
Brunch o'clock and we journeyed to the town of San Juan Capistrano to a delightful Mexican place full of delightful Mexicans. I enjoyed a Ranchero pancake accompanied by sumptuous Californian fruit.
I still can't quite believe that I am actually on the other side of the world. Parts of this part of the world resemble a film set - any second, somebody is going to emerge from the 'little house on the prairie' style coffee shop and say 'cut', then actual real-life will resume and all will become clear. But no, I am actually here, almost as far geographically as one can get - 11 hours away, or 22 hours if you take the unfortunate but oddly satisfying route which I took. I saw a real cowboy today - a man with a cowboy hat, riding a horse - I must actually be here.
Afternoon came and we headed back to town, where a delightful coffee shop furnished us with caffeine-fuelled refreshment and an almond croissant. We walked through a quirky butterfly park, ashamed at the number of types of butterfly we could actually list. We came across an open-air concert in a sun-drenched park, where a band generated familiar music, introduced by a different person each time. I had tears in my eyes as my sister and nephew danced to the music, then my sister and brother-in-law danced together - the audience applauded them more than the music givers.
I bought a thimble in a gift shop - a cute wooden thimble with 'San Juan Capistrano' etched onto it. I'm not sure anyone has ever bought a thimble there before as the seller didn't know how much they were. Actually, there's a freaky Peter Rabbit link here - when I was 7 we visited Beatrix Potter's house in the Lake District. I wanted to buy a souvenir in the gift shop. Mum suggested I purchase a thimble, and suggested that I might like to start a collection. As if, I thought. I now have more than 400 thimbles which document my life since that visit. I made it my ambition to buy one from every country in the world and was perplexed when I realised that they don't sell them in every country in the world - Burkina Faso for example, has no thimbles - I went there and checked. It was philately that triggered my interest in the world. Age 9, I once came across a stamp from a country called Burkina Faso - I had never heard of it but found it on a map and decided that one day I would go there. Ten years later, I did, to Ouagadougou. I even sent myself a postcard. But there were no thimbles.
Back at the ranch, I got to know Alexa better - she's a legend - she plays music, she turns on the lights. Apart from not having any feelings or emotions, she's just like a human. Well, most humans. My sister and I took #DogFriend2 out for a walk around the area - it's all looks very American but I suppose that's not entirely surprising.
A lady on the train yesterday told me that my accent was 'fabulous' - I concurred, but wondered which accent she meant - it comes quite naturally to speak as I do (innit fam!)
The children are now sleeping and I will soon be heading to bed. It's my last day here tomorrow, then I am off on part 2 of this epic adventure. Stay with me - it's going to be fun!
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