We're back from our vacation in the highlands of Scotland. Pictures of us swimming on horseback soon to come (that sounds odd, doesn't it? The horses were the ones actually swimming, after all. We were more along the lines of 'trying not to float away while the horses do all the work.') In other news, Ella has been working on her colors. In her world, there are two. "Pink" (her favorite) and every other color which has arbitrarily been named "purple." Combine this with her new desire to pick out her own clothes and our mornings get a little more confusing 'Which color shirt would you like to wear today?' 'Purple.' 'This one?' 'No. Purple.' 'This one?' 'No. Purple.' '...sigh...'

I think I've commented before that coming to the UK from the US is like living in a Picasso painting. You think know what you're looking at, it's just a bit off. So lately, we've moved beyond our hunt for good Mexican food into a quest for Chinese. Most of the local Fish 'n' Chips places ("Chippies" in the local vernacular) sell either Indian or Chinese food - but I haven't been able to bring myself to try it. But our cravings for good Chinese cuisine got to the point where we ventured out to the couple of local restaurants and order take out. The menu is almost what we think it should be... Me: "... um, chicken fried rice & an order of potstickers." Chinese Waiter Guy: "Pot what?" Me: "Potstickers." Chinese Waiter Guy: "I'm sorry?" Me: "Pot. Stickers." Chinese Waiter Guy: "What's that, guv'ner?" Ok, he didn't really say 'guv'ner'. In fact, I haven't actually met anyone who says 'guv'ner'. Dickens was a liar. Anyway, how the hell do you explain "potsticker"? I've seen Eat. Drink. Man. Woman. I know for a fact they have them in China. Chinese Waiter Guy was just screwing with the American. He's not fooling anybody.