The British Invasion

Once every six weeks, the cry goes out across the Kent House, "The British are coming!" They arrive bearing gifts in the form of crumpets and lemon spread from the lovely England. Yes, I am speaking about our neighbors who go to a British boarding school in England. If your imagination fails you in envisioning this boarding school, just conjure up your best memory of Harry Potter. For yes, my friend Clare is actually "Head Girl" at this school, and the students are actually divided into different "Houses". Thus, if your faith in J.K. Rowling has not already flown away on a broomstick (and mine has), you should note that Hogwarts was not really such a creative idea after all--but that is a subject for another post. Without further ado, allow me to present the number one reason I wish I was British...

CHRISTMAS STARTS NOW!

Do not shake your heads in confusion. Let me explain. An age-old British Christmas tradition is "Christmas Pudding". This Christmas Pudding bears an uncanny resemblance to an Ocean's 11/12/13 movie. I know you are giving your computer screen a bewildered expression at this assertion...

I must enforce my authority on this subject by stating that I did see Ocean's 13 three times in theaters, so I am more than qualified to make this comparison.

Ahem, where was I? Oh yes, The Ocean's movies are by nature drawn out. There is always a long period of planning and working and waiting, all leading up to an ultimately climactic ending. The same can be said of Christmas Pudding.

The Christmas Pudding saga, like the Ocean's movies, begins with calculated planning. Americans, you deem it natural to whip up Christmas cookies on the 23rd of December. The British scoff at this method (comparable to a Nancy Drew novel). As the leaves begin to change color and the cold British wind starts to blow across the moors, Christmas Pudding takes shape in the minds of British women far and wide.

Then, around the zenith of fall festivities (Halloween), Christmas Pudding begins to evolve. After whipping up the mixture, it must be steamed for 5 hours. In this way, Christmas Pudding is very similar to the Ocean's movies. These movies always include the "waiting" part...this is the time when the planning and working is finished, and they are just waiting for the opportune moment to act.

After waiting 5 whole hours during the steaming, there is even more waiting. For the Christmas Pudding must now mature and rippen for no less than SIX WEEKS!!! Yes, if you are under 7 years of age (or if you act as if you are under 7 years of age-like me), Christmas Pudding is an arduous and unmanagable wait that invariably leads to obstreperous behavior. If you have children or are a child, you will agree with me; however, I digress. Only after at least six weeks is the Christmas Pudding ripe and ready!

Now after all of the waiting, the opportune moment arrives, and it is FINALLY time to eat the pudding (or execute the carefully calculated plan in Ocean's terms). Yet there always has to be a little excitement--otherwise you would get bored and vow to never see Ocean's 14, 15, 16... Let me remind the reader that it is always preferrable to use some natural-yet-planned element in the climactic ending (remember the earthquake in Ocean's 13?). It is unlikely that Christmas Pudding could benefit from an earthquake, so the English resort to fire--and, of course, a little brandy for good measure. Yes, you are now justified in saying that the English are a little crazy. I mean, after all, what person in their right mind would light their dessert on fire before eating it? I don't know the answer to that question, but I do know that Christmas Pudding is AMAZING!! And it does not taste burned, merely warm and toasty! No pun intended with the "toasty" comment although the generous amount of brandy poured on top before the fire does lend itself to a bit of a pun.

So "Have Yourself an English Little Christmas" and stir up your Christmas Pudding today!

Here are some pictures of Clare and I brewing the pudding potion...


I will post again soon with an update on current debates with both my Muslim friends and my liberal, Catholic theology professor. Until then, Masallama!

Winston: Explorer, Friend, Shoe Expert, and Charmer

Some say you never know what you have until you don't have it anymore. They're right. Today we said goodbye to our newest family member, Winston. Perhaps you remember Winston from the infamous beach story. For those of you who remember, I have another side of Winston to tell you about. I don't want you to remember him as that "fiendish dog".

-Winston was an explorer. Maybe he should have been named Columbus or Cortez or Pizarro...Every day was a new adventure for him, and he was out to conquer our house. :-) In fact, to my dismay, he was succeeding.
-Winston loved us--yes, he even loved me when I didn't love him. "Animal people" say that animals only trust you if you love them first. Winston wasn't like that. He loved all of us.
-Winston was one "shoe savy" individual! I love shoes, and Winston truly had shoe potential. Every time he was around me he would come over and look at my shoes. Of course, this usually led to trying to eat the shoes, but hey, at least he took notice of my superior footwear.
-Winston was a charmer. He couldn't leave the house without everyone who saw him wanting to pet him, play with him, and show him to their family. About 10 minutes after he moved in, everyone on the block adored him and "wished he was theirs".

So, yes. Winston passed away today after five wonderful weeks as a part of our family. He had a kidney disfunction, so he wasn't strong enough to fight off the sickness he came down with. His life was only 12 weeks long, but our memory of him will last so much longer. I'm thankful for every day we spent with Winston. I guess if we had known he would only be with us for 5 weeks, we would have chosen another dog...but Winston was the perfect dog for us, so I'm glad we didn't know! I wouldn't trade the time we had with Winston for any other dog.

The Bible says, "Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father" (Matt. 10:29). Thus, there is providence even in Winston's death.

Here is a picture of Winston and I the day after we got him.

I have always been the girl who "hates dogs". I still don't love dogs, but now, every dog I see will be someone's Winston--and that makes every dog very special.

The Kent Family and the Quest for Deluxe Diner

Imagine 1950's America--no, it is NOT Ancient History. It was the era of soc hops, poodle skirts, and quaint diners. Not so long ago, almost every town had that ubiquitous little joint, which was usually uncerimoniously named "Deluxe Diner" or something of the sort. This was the place where every man over 50 met in the morning to drink coffee and re-hash the "good ol' days". This was the place where the kids dropped in for an ice cream sundae after a particularly rough day at school. This place is no more. Sure, a few towns retain this institution, but for the rest of us, what's left? IHOP? Oh Yes, the Indescribably Horrible Oderous Place--need I say more? Reader, you must not suppose that I am biased against IHOP. On the contrary, I have merely attempted to analyze it honestly, and what I find is not impressive. Personally, I do not enjoy syrup that's been sitting on the table since the Roman Empire--yes, the Roman Empire IS Ancient History.


Thus, as IHOP's power spreads, all hope seems lost for the few citizens who remember the taste of yester-year. However, if you are one of these privileged few, do not despair. Cling to the shread of dignity you still retain, and read on!

Tucked beneath the evils of IHOP's globalization, the "Deluxe Diner" has been fighting a fierce and gruesome battle. Some even believe this species to be extinct. *dramatic gasp from the reader* It is at this point that my story begins. Fearing the extinction of the idyllic diner, my family and I took it upon ourselves to search the world over and try to find whatever may be left of the Deluxe Diner! This is the tale of "The Kent Family and the Quest for Deluxe Diner". Warning: This tale is not for the faint-hearted or weak-spirited.

We began by arming ourselves with disguises...












... and we set out to trace the trail of the Deluxe Diner. Danger was rampant, and we knew our chance for survival was slim, but we couldn't let IHOP win. Justice had to prevail!!!!!!! Our search first led us to London where we scoured the crime ridden streets in search of any sign of the Deluxe Diner.

Just as the trail appeared to have run dry, we found a clue. Heading to Austria, we mingled with the people in the Austrian Pubs and managed to glean enough information to keep us on the hunt. We also met up with a friend so skilled in detective work that she has become a household name--no, I am NOT talking about Sherlock Holmes. For privacy's sake, she will be referred to here as "The Mole". In fact, this is the very same detective who solved the infamous BL Case of 2006. Anyway, masking ourselves as pub frequenters, we got the information we needed from our new pub friends.

However, just as things started looking good, we were arrested! This was indeed a rather time-consuming setback, but do not fear for us. We never let small inconveniences keep us from doing our duty to the world!

Knowing our chances for escape were slim, we devised a plan so fiendishly brilliant as to confound even the smartest guard. Abby is frighteningly good at dog impersonations, so we pooled all our clothes together and made her a dog costume. Then, she re-enacted her best interpretation of a german shepherd to distract the guard while we escaped. After escaping, our Diner trail led over the mountains into Germany. However, as fugitives, running from the law, we had to climb the mountain between Germany and Austria on foot *Cue "Climb Every Mountain" from The Sound of Music*.

Masquerading as tourists, we managed to slip past the authorities in several German villages while searching for the trail of the Deluxe Diner.

But alas, the trail took a twisty turn and led us to Texas. Due to unpleasant circumstances, we had to swim across the Atlantic Ocean all the way to Florida.

Thankfully, once we got to Florida, we rented canoes and canoed the rest of the way to Texas--Reader, please do not roll your eyes in disbelief. Although this feat would be impossible for normal individuals, we have never professed to be normal. Thus, this is completely plausible. Furthermore, when spurred by a desire for justice and truth, people often do remarkable things.

Arriving in Texas, we accidentally got caught up in a political protest but eventually managed to search out the individual we needed information from (for privacy purposes, this individual's name cannot be disclosed at this time). By this point in the search, we felt we were close to discovering the truth, but our only clues led us to yet another destination. This time, the Wild West. We got in the car and started driving to Nevada. However, we soon found ourselves pursued by flaming liberals who disagreed with our conservative bumper sticker. Unfortunately, my driving is safe but slow, and after a wild car chase, the liberals caught up to us. We feared the worst.

They proudly brandished their Democrat Pins...

Our fears were well founded...the liberals arrested us for "supporting incompetent political figures".

Fortunately, President Bush pulled another "Libby" maneuver, and we didn't end up in jail. After some serious sleuthing around the ghost towns of Northern Nevada (think Nancy Drew) and an almost fatal shoot-out in Virginia City, Nevada, we were once again on the road. Determination held us within its grips, and we held firm to the standard we had set for ourselves. However, Alaska proved to be the most challenging situation yet. The bitter cold drove into our bodies robbing us of all warmth and hope for truth.

Yet just as we felt the Deluxe Diner cause to be hopeless, we stumbled across the rugged mountain man, Edgar.

Helping us through the uncivilized Alaskan terrain, Edgar also connected us with necessary political figures to further us in our search. At this point we felt indescribably close to finding the Deluxe Diner, but our journey was not over. The clues all pointed towards Canada, so off we went. Upon arrival, we had to blend in with the Canadian people to gain entrance to the country (see me blending into the crowd in this picture).

We got through customs, but our path was blocked by the 8th Grade Badminton Championships which were being held in Victoria. We had a quick group meeting and decided our only option was to play our way through. Fortunately for us, Brenda was a Utah State Intramural Badminton Finalist when she was in college. Using the badminton skills she'd been honing ever since her defeat in the finals of the 1980 Intramural Badminton Championships, Brenda disguised herself as an 8th grader, and won the championship. Victory was indeed glorious, but our race was not yet over. IHOP continued to gain support, and we knew that every moment lost was another lost customer. Winding our way through the crowd of sulking 8th graders, we went directly to the Empress Hotel where we had been told someone could help us in our search. This person told us, "the secret lies in the Middle East", but refused to give any more information. Resigning ourselves to the inevitable, we boarded a plane for the Middle East. We arrived and set out to find the "Deluxe Diner"!

The only locals we could find clearly didn't trust us, so we knew we had to figure out a way to gain their trust. Just as we began to despair, they told us about their community theatre pruduction of Seussical. Feeling that this was meant to be, Emily quickly described her theatrical experience and offered to reprise her previous role as Cindy-Lou-Who. Dear Reader, do not be confused. If you have seen Seussical, you are probably thinking, "I don't remember a Cindy-Lou-Who in the show." Please believe that I would not lie to you. There is a Cindy-Lou-Who and Emily has been described as "that freakishly good Cindy-Lou-Who". Thus, the natives were thrilled, and Emily proceeded to be a part of their play while gaining their trust. After the play, they had become much friendlier towards us and told us where to look for the Deluxe Diner. We set off on wild camels with our friend "The Mole" to find this secret spot in the desert. *Cue Arabian Music*

Arriving at the ruins we had been directed to, we felt we were very close to discovering the existence of the Deluxe Diner and stopped to have a quick picnic. We were frolicking around the picnic area when suddenly out of nowhere, down swooped the evil Mr. C. This fiendish villian laughed a ferocious laugh and said, "I've been watching you, always watching you. As the Executive Director of IHOP, I cannot allow you to get any closer to the Deluxe Diner." Then, brandishing his evil sword, Mr. C. gurgled, "Get into the car." With a flourish, Todd pulled his grinch pajamas out of his bag and began wrapping Mr. C. in the pajamas. This tactic, which was more surprising than successful, did not work. Mr. C. cruelly ripped the favored pajamas. This was indeed a crushing blow to Todd, but he took it with a noble heart. Fearing a swashbuckling defeat if we attempted to resist any more, we acquiesced to Mr. C.'s request. As all villians, Mr. C. had a secret lair deep in the desert, and he maliciously drove us there. When we arrived, he locked us into his Arabian jail and with another evil laugh, swooped away again leaving us to roast in the desert sun. (I warned you this tale is not for the faint-hearted.)

All seemed lost to us Kents who had endured so much and just didn't have anything left to give. Yet, "The Mole" had a solution. In an act of utter genious, she whipped out her travel pack of vaseline, and lubricated the door, which reluctantly opened. Then, in a very Kim Possible-ish maneuver, we escaped! As we returned to the city, we were starving, so we knew we needed to find food quickly. We stopped at the first place we saw, and when we entered...lo and behold...we had found what we had been looking for all along. Yes, disguised amongst the Indian Souqs in Doha, Qatar, the "Deluxe Diner" lives under the alias of "Ric's Kountry Kitchen" (pictured below)!

"I'm Elisabeth Kent and this has been a CBS 60 Minutes Special Report. Thank you, and good night."

Rewind: Helsinki

As my graduation present from my parents, Dad and I went to Helsinki, Finland in May. Dad had a conference there, so I went along to do some sight-seeing. This is a picture of us in the taxi on the way to the airport. It was 5:30am, and we were both exhausted, but also very excited.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Setting: Munich Airport)
Dad: "You should check your email."
Me: "I don't really need to. I can check it tonight."
Dad: "It is IMPORTANT to stay connected when you've been traveling for a long time!"
Me: "Dad, we've only been traveling for eight hours."

Later that day...

(Setting: Hotel Arthur, Helsinki)

This is where things get ugly. The only possible word to describe the Hotel Arthur is "ubsgunalternettelinerschudgenpoinfel". Yes, I know you are gasping in horror at the idea of a hotel that can only be described with such a word, but I am committed to telling you the truth, however ugly that truth may be. Do not be fooled by the picture of this hotel room. In the picture, this room looks small but clean, a bit shabby but comfortable-- THE PICTURE LIES!!!!!!

Lest the reader be overcome with grief and pity at the thought of little me having to stay in this room, I will not describe the depths of heinous sorrow that this room produced upon my first encounter with it. Let it suffice that my journal later indicates that "the hotel and I have come to a point of coexistence." Thus, let the story continue.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day...
(Setting: Around Town)
I forgot to inform the reader that my bag didn't make it to Helsinki with us. This may not sound too terrible, but please imagine yourself in 35 degree weather with a wind off the sea trying to explore Helsinki. The prospects for success are grim. However, I am a fighter, and I refused to let the wind, rain, cold, and sleet (OK, there wasn't actually sleet, but it sounds dramatic) keep me in the Hotel Arthur, hereby refered to as The-Place-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named. I was forced to choose between the two evils-- unbearable cold or The-Place-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named. If you cannot guess which I chose, please re-read the above section detailing The-Place-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Now, where were we? Oh yes, I set off to find the Uspenski Cathedral.

Upon arrival, it hadn't opened yet. This is inevitably the scene where the heroine, who is of course in despair, sits on the top step of a famous landmark and feels like the whole world is against her. Yes, I know you remember scenes like this from your favorite movies. --Dear Reader, Do not be discouraged. Although this may seem like a horror story, redemption is at hand.-- I dragged myself down from the Cathedral, shivering in the bitter cold, and found my way into a little cafe. After a hot cup of coffee, the world looked much nicer--doesn't it always in this type of movie? I visited the Uspenski Cathedral (once it opened), the Catholic Cathedral, and the harbor marketplace where I bought a beautiful necklace for Emily. By this point, I was still cold, but the cold had become bearable, and I began to be truly excited about exploring the city. If there had to be a specific turning point in this change of mood, it would be as follows... after visiting the Cathedrals and marketplace, I began wandering back towards the hotel. I was shuffling along the sidewalk when I looked up, and there before my eyes sat the largest H&M Megastore I have ever seen.

This is not a low-budget, cheesy movie, but if it was, the clouds would suddenly part and beams of sunshine would illuminate H&M. Alas, the clouds did not part, and there was no sunshine, but I was immensely excited to find this haven from the cold weather!

Later that day...

Dad finished his meetings for the day, so we set off to find a good place for dinner. Now let me remind the reader that I love food! I have always loved food. Some people get tired of food. I do not get tired of food. Thus, when Dad and I saw the restaurant "I Love Food", we couldn't resist eating there.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Next Day...
Perhaps this day should begin with a quotation from my journal--The heroine of this sort of movie always keeps a journal.
I write in my journal, "Already I have reached day three of this adventure, and I have found the Finnish people very interesting. The are rather pre-occupied with scurrying around town and getting where they're going as quickly as possible. Of course, one can hardly blame them as their country is rather cold. In any case, The-Place-Which-Must-Not-Be-Named and I continue on our terms of co-existence. Dad likes to remark that, 'The beds are pretty comfortable.' I reply, 'This is SO not about the beds!'...This moring I visited the Rock Church, Contemporary Art Museum, and Parliament."

This is the Rock Church. It doesn't look very impressive in the picture, but it was cool because it is actually carved out of rock...

The next memorable moment in this story is Fazier's. If you have seen this movie before, this is the part where you always say "wow!" Even the best of heroines have a weak spot, and Fazier's is mine. It is an adorable little chocolate/ice cream shop and has quite a reputation in Helsinki. Rationalizing our over-eating, Dad and I couldn't help but have some ice cream!


This is Dad's infamous "don't tell Mom I ate this" smile...

Dad is indescribably good at walking around cities, just exploring. Thus, after Fazier's, we looked around the city for a while. Since it stayed light until around 9:30pm, walking around in the evening was fun.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Next Day...
By this point, the utter horror of the first day has dissipated, and this has become a very happy, smiley trip. Dad had this day off from the conference, so we headed to Suomenlinna, the sea fortress off of Finland.


Imagining the many battles that had been fought on the island, Dad and I bravely explored. It was an extremely fun excursion!

After returning to the mainland, a trip to Fazier's seemed in order, so we obliged ourselves. The "realization of the day" seems to be that there is an extraordinary large population of pregnant women here. I write in my journal on the subject, "Do not suppose that I am exagerating, for it is true in every sense of the word."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Next Day...
Helsinki's charm does not come from museums or landmarks. It comes from the pleasant, crisp, beautiful atmosphere! As I wrote in my journal, "Just walking the streets is a fabulous experience!" Every building is individualized and unique. Thus, the architecture is a ton of fun! Also, there is an abundance of coffee shops and cafes. This is truly a winning factor! After walking through the cold, rainy streets, a hot mocca is a pleasurable retreat!

Up to this point, I have failed to mention the Eurovision Song Contest, which inhabited Helsinki while we were there. Eurovision is in fact the contest that discovered ABBA, and as you can imagine, there was an influx of every type of people into the city. While the intrusion of crowds was undesirable, there were performance venues all around the city. I loved watching the performers, who were from a multitude of different countries.

There was a stage next to the Cathedral, so everyone sat on the Cathedral steps while they watched the performances.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Next Day...
My final day in Finland was wonderful enough to make up for the disastrous first day. Dad and I visited the little Finnish villiage of Porvoo. It was adorable!

The shopping area was so quaint and fun! Dad and I had tea in a little tea shop.


Originally, all the houses in the villiage were made of wood. There are still a few left along the riverbank.

The crowning joy on the day was definitely when we saw a three-wheeled car!! We were walking along, and I said, "Dad, does that car only have three wheels?" It was a randomly hilarious moment!

In the end, I wrote in my journal, "Finland is a charming country, and I shall always think of it as a very happy place."