Sunday, June 22

As I was letting myself into my building last night, a group of British guys walked past and wanted to know the way to Ultimate Burger. “Oh, it’s just down the street and around the corner,” I told them, since Megan had pointed it out the night before. They thanked me profusely.

“Love the accent, by the way!” one of them tossed out as they went on their way. Ha! He didn’t say it meanly; it was flirtatious more than anything else. It’s just so fun to think that here, I’m the one with the accent. I hear all the different accents around me, but I’m not conscious of the way I speak when I talk with others. My voice still sounds perfectly normal to me; I don’t recognize it as being different until someone else points it out—and then it’s always like “Oh, right.” It’s weird to think that I can be instantly pinpointed as American by something that I don’t pay any attention to.

We were treated to a glorious afternoon on Sunday and made a special trip out to Chiswick to visit Brielle. Chiswick is a suburb of London about forty minutes from the center of the city. It was quite a nice little area – much quieter than where I live, with rows of white houses branching off a pretty main street lined with shops and restaurants. The flowers were especially lush on Brielle’s little side street. I love being so close to everything but if I were to live in a big city I think I’d prefer the calmer suburb. I feel hemmed in by so many buildings.

We spent the day lounging in the park and watching a little boy learn how to fly a kite from his father. It was a very sweet performance until the kite dive-bombed us—quite literally—and we had to duck for cover. That certainly livened up a quiet Sunday afternoon.