Make no mistake. As a native Southern Californian, I miss home ever single day that I’m in Britain. That’s no offense to Britain — it’s just that Southern California, and Orange County in particular, is home. Still, even I have to smile at certain things about Britain. Below, the scene that greeted me when it was my turn to pick my youngest son up from a course he took last week to learn cricket:
Everyone all in their whites — perfectly cut green lawn and the church as a backdrop to it all. Nice day.
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This seems slightly more relaxing than traversing the 91 West to 55 South interchange on the way to Garden Grove in a Ford Fiesta with no air conditioning and outer body rust-through.
Stop making me homesick, or I’ll fly to O.C. and take pictures of whatever it is that people typically do there… or maybe not.
Jeffrey, that’s just down right scary. I mean, I’ve pretty much done that — only years and years and years ago