A field trip, hummus, and 24 snowflakes

Yesterday was a rather lovely Wednesday.

I’d been looking forward to it for a while because the kindergarten had scheduled a field trip.

I love field trips more now than I did as a kid, I think.

We piled onto two large coach buses at 9am and set out for Chaoyang park. Chaoyang seems to be part park, part amusement area, part educational facility. We went through the science building, which boasts hands on activities to teach kids about light and sound.

There was even a 3d movie.

So, in this picture one of my students' faces in blurred out, 

because I am not his parent, and I'm not releasing his image to the world.

Overall it was a good outing. No one went missing or got lost, and I got a cool lanyard out of the deal.

A photographer followed us around taking pictures, which I thought was weird, but I assume it’s for advertisements… “Hey, look how awesome our school is. Not only do we have real live white people teaching our kids English, we also occasionally remove them from the confines of our campus and take them on educational adventures. Now pay us lots of money so that your kids can be part of this, too!”… It’s a wonder I didn’t go into advertising, right?

There’s also the possibility that specific parents paid money for their children to be photographed on this education adventure, because I did notice that he was paying special attention to a few of the kids in my class.

In other news, I have adopted the Chinese custom of drinking hot water.

It used to disgust me to even contemplate drinking anything warmer than room temperature water, but I have been converted.

I have yet to see any of the health benefits that the head teacher of the Bumblebee class swears exist:

“You have menstrual cramps? Drink hot water.”…“You have a headache? Drink hot water.” Even so I am currently, as I type this, drinking a steaming cup of water.

Now, it is no substitute for the Twinings’ English Breakfast that I have prominently displayed in my kitchen, but it is soothing to my chapped throat. (Can a throat be chapped?) And it doesn’t have any caffeine.

Buy decaffeinated tea, you say? At 46rmb for a box of 25 tea bags, I say no. (46rmb is a little more than $7.50) I shall continue to drink my tea in the morning, and water at night.

I have also purchased a kettle for the English Office at the school.  It now has pride of place where the monitor of the defunct computer had previously been. We’re still trying to figure out the logistics of where the ½&½ might be stored, but we have decided that the winter would be long indeed without the sustaining influence of a cup of good tea in the middle of the day.

The decision to purchase a kettle was reached when I looked for a thermos at WuMart and found that one of suitable size and color was more expensive than a kettle, and three accompanying mugs. So now we have access to all sorts of heated beverages throughout the day, and will not have to be limited to whatever we fixed in the morning, and poured into the thermos.

Variety, that spice of life.

Hot chocolate has been mentioned as a Friday treat. As have biscuits (the English biscuit, not the southern kind. Although, I do have a hankerin’ for some buttered drop biscuits and raspberry jam).

In still further news, Tuesday was the second anniversary of none other than Super Husband and Wonder Wife.

We celebrated by going to a vegan restaurant we’d been recommended to. We were rather looking forward to the hummus. Three months without hummus is a long time. Too long.

Veggie Table is in a small hutong across the main road from the Lama Temple. It has comfortable purple couches, and nicely sized tables. The menu isn’t terribly extensive, but they have a variety of spreads and dips, a few soups, some sandwiches, and a couple pastas. We ordered the large hummus, and were pleasantly surprised at the size of the plate that came out. For 45rmb we received a dinner plate supporting a layer of hummus ½ an inch thick, all the way around. While I found it a tad dry if you weren’t careful to scoop up a drizzle of olive oil in each bite, it was definitely worth returning for.

Sadly, we didn’t feel the same way about the other two dishes.

Super Husband ordered the mushroom burger. It was good. Fine… but not worth the over 60rmb (60rmb = $10) that it cost…

Now remember, prices here are much lower for food. We consider a meal really, really expensive if it’s over 120rmb for the two of us, here. Whereas in Houston we wouldn’t scoff at spending the equivalent at least a couple times a week.

Back to Veggie Table

I ordered the sun dried tomato pasta, and was less than enchanted. The first couple of bites were great, but my ardor soon waned.

Veggie Table didn’t thrill us this time, but at the very least we now know where to get a good plate of hummus, even as late as midnight. And it’s only three subway stops away.

Today, in class, my kids made snowflakes.

I’m going to take credit for the genius of this idea, because it was my idea.

Our stupid, useless, worthless, horrible, no good, very bad curriculum doesn’t cover anything about winter, or any of the winter holidays, until the 26^th of December. Which is rather late, if you ask me.

I had to take things into my own hands.

These kids are going to learn Christmas carols, by jove.

And I have a whole 12 days of Christmas thing that I’m trying to flesh out and plan properly.

But today we made snowflakes. It’s actually a huge amount of fun.

The old adage about no two snowflakes being alike really comes to life when you’re hacking away at folded bits of paper and then unfurling them to see what you’ve created.

I was going to add in step-by-step photos on how to do it, but then I realized that I don’t have any scissors here in my apartment. I’ll take photos tomorrow at work and add them in later. So, if you want to make snowflakes, check back again later…
Okay, it's later now. And I decided that instead of putting those picture of the How-to here, I'm going to compile all of the cool crafty things I do with the kids from now on, and post pictures. So, if you look up at the top there, there's a link that's called Crafts for Kindergartens. There you will be dazzled by the lovely instructions for cutting a paper snowflake.
As a side note - I'm going to be decorating my apartment in these, to lend it some holiday cheer. I'm excited.

But here are some pictures of the awesome job that my kids did!

(And when I say “my kids” I mean my students… just in case that confuses anyone)

A Thanksgiving Abroad

Yesterday, as many of you are aware, was Thanksgiving in the U.S.of A.
As an observant and observant American I searched high and low to find the perfect Thanksgiving dinner. Something that would have not just the turkey that is so representative of the holiday, but the mashed potatoes, the stuffing, the gravy, the sweet potatoes...
Maybe the recipes wouldn't be as good as those passed through my family for generations, not as honed and time tested, but it would have to do.
Not having a proper oven, or the day off, really cramped my Thanksgiving style.
But what I found was pretty spectacular.

We celebrated in the shadow of The Great Wall of China. 

I'm kicking myself now for not taking a picture of all of the dishes, mostly because the sweet potato casserole was purple. 

Everything was delicious. 

We started off the evening at around 5 with wine and hors d'oeuvre.

The fried shrimp was served cold, which I found odd and unappetizing, but that was completely made up for by the herbed cranberry bread skewered with small pieces of wonderfully spiced pastrami. 

There were also lotus root chips, which I had not sampled before, but found extremely tasty. 

At 6 we were all ushered to our seats so that the main event could begin, and the main dishes brought forth.

Our table of six consisted of a couple visiting from Switzerland for the week who had booked a room at the hotel and new nothing of the American Thanksgiving celebration that awaited them, and a pair of young "ABC's" or American Born Chinese students originally from the greater Los Angeles area. And of course the esteemed Super Husband, and his lovely Wonder Wife.

Our first course was a very tasty cream of mushroom soup. I'm not overfond of mushrooms, but this was just the right way to do it. 

Quickly following that came a lightly dressed salad, by which I was neither impressed nor disapproving. 

Then the REAL meal began. 

Plates of white and dark meat appeared in the center of our table, along side a lovely gravy, and an even prettier cranberry sauce. 

Shortly thereafter the aforementioned purple sweet potato casserole arrived, accompanied by normal colored mashed potatoes.

The stuffing, or dressing, was really very tasty, but rather oddly shaped into squares. This is, perhaps normal to some, but I've never seen it such.

Some time after the beginning of the meal a broccoli and cheese béchamel dish was brought out. This is not a traditional dish in my family, and I was rather less than taken with it. I would have much preferred a green bean casserole, complete with the frenche's onions. But that is asking rather a lot.

After dinner we were informed that the desserts were buffet style, and we slowly made our way over there.

We were greeted with a plethora from which to choose. 

Hot apple brown betty, hawthorn custard, homemade ice cream in vanilla and chocolate, brownies, cookies, lemon ice box pie, and cream puffs.

Needless to say, I was in heaven.

I didn't, however, sample all of them. 

I contained myself to a tiny slice of ice box pie, the apple brown betty, and a single bite of chocolate ice cream.

All shared with Super Husband, mind you.

But most of all, the conversation was spectacular.

We discussed topics ranging from the pollution in Beijing (it reached a record for our time here of 387 on Thursday morning, but cleared up nicely due to high winds), to the crime statistics of Geneva, Switzerland.
And so very many things in between.

Two side notes here: 1) Our dinner is going to be broadcast on CCTV 4 at some point, as part of a special on The Schoolhouse at Mutianyu, which is where we were. I don't know if it'll be available for viewing anywhere else, or if it would even be worth looking in to, but I thought I'd mention it.

and
2) The Swiss couple is going to be in Texas in a few weeks and are looking for recommendations on where to go, what to see, and what to eat. I already gave them some recommendations, but if you have any "Must Sees" for the Houston, San Antonio, and Austin areas, or anything that lies along I-10 west, e-mail me so that I can pass the info along to them.


I mentioned in an earlier post that I was trying to get a traditional Thanksgiving meal for the kids. This never did happen. But we talked about turkey, and my classes colored Thanksgiving themed pictures, so at least they have a passing concept of what it means.

She can't have the liver

I would like to take a moment to announce that I am now the very, very proud owner of a brand spankin' new, red and white bicycle. 

And she is loverly. 

Complete with a black basket, and a lovely little back, rack-thing that's designed to have things strapped to it. 

I am in love. 

And, perhaps most importantly, my once thirty minute commute is now a trifling ten minutes. I now have time in the morning for a leisurely cup of coffee, instead of being reduced to it gulping down. 

I could, if whimsy struck me, stop off on the corner for a bit of friend breakfast bread. (Not that that's something that sounds particularly appealing to me, mind you) Or even, if I decided, stop off at 7/11 and procure some sushi. Which is something that my coworkers do weekly, but I've never had the time for; 7/11 being on the opposite side of a rather busy intersection. 

We have Super Husband to thank for this revelation in speed and beauty. 

As our second anniversary is nearing he decided (after much hint dropping, and a bit of outright telling him that I wanted a bike) to surprise me with my very own Giant. 

Isn't he just marvelous? 

Yes. Yes, he is. 

I have gotten many a compliment already, and I've only had it for four days. 

But on to other things... things like:

We decided, on Friday evening, to try a restaurant that we had walked past a few times, but never ventured into. They have chuan'r, and what looks like naan grilling to one side, and lovely golden wallpaper all around the restaurant.

The owners, and waitstaff, are not Chinese, but I'm not sure exactly where they're from. 

The menu sports mostly Chinese dishes, but with a slightly Middle Eastern twist. 

My assumption is that they're from Kazakhstan, because there is a large Kazakh population here in Beijing. 

So, we went in, and proceeded to scour the menu. We chose foods mostly at random, playing Chinese Roulette, and were pleasantly surprised. The cucumber remains one of my absolute favorites, in a slightly tangy sauce, it's really, very good. As was the meat and fried bread pieces in a basket. I thought when ordering that they were hunks of potatoes, but the seasoned bread was even better than any potato.

We did, however, heed the recommendation of the man grilling the chuan'r and order the lamb kidney. He pointed it out especially to Super Husband, and did a thumbs up. So we ordered it, along with a naan, and some other meaty selections.  

When our kebabs arrived the man put the kidneys on Super Husband's plate, and said, in no uncertain terms, although not in English or Chinese, that I was not to be allowed to partake of that particular choice meat. 

No skin off my back, as I wasn't exactly clamoring for the chance to eat kidney. But it was a little strange. I've done some research, but we're still not exactly sure if it was some slightly sexist insistence that the best piece of meat go to the man, or if there are some purported health risks associated with the consumption of kidney meat. Either way, Super Husband ate, and very much enjoyed the kidney on a stick. 

Yesterday, Sunday, we hopped on Line 10 and headed down to the Canadian International School for their Christmas Bazaar. 

I have to say, I was underwhelmed. Maybe I was spoiled by the bazaars we used to have in Jakarta, but this was, while well thought out, not worth the 10rmb required at the entrance. 

Sporting not even 50 booths and watery hot chocolate, well, I was disappointed.

We did however find the Bread of Life Bakery, 100% of whose profits go to charity, and purchase a pecan pie from them. 

We haven't sampled said pie yet, but it looks good. My only complaint would be a lack of sufficient pecans. But this is Beijing, after all, and as I hadn't seen a single pecan previous to the ones gracing this pie, well, beggars can't be choosers. 

And on that note, I'm going to beg off, and buy myself a coffee at the corner shop.

Happy Monday, all. 

A Treatise on Doppelgängers, and Other Things

Not long after arriving in Beijing Super Husband and I made the realization that everyone has an asian doppelgänger.
We've seen my sister, my sister as a small child, his father, his younger brother, and countless other friends and relatives.

We've rather made a game of it, actually.

On Sunday I saw a kid/guy that was the closest I've seen yet. I actually did a double take, thinking that somehow, unbeknownst to me, my cousin Ethan had made his way to subway line one.

I'm sure there are people that don't have a Chinese counterpart, of course. 

My father, what with his red beard, is probably going to be hard to match.

But I'll amuse myself for now by searching out the faces of my nearest and dearest. 

Speaking of my father, I'd like to take a moment to wish him, and my Tio Steve both a happy birthday.

And here, for your viewing pleasure, is a very Chinese Happy Birthday video.

It's getting colder here. Much, much colder.

My apartment is very warm, but as soon as you open the front door you're greeted by a blast of icy air. 

It's the wind, really, that makes it bad. Without the wind, the cold would be merely chilly. 

But then it whips around and spears you, like a thousand tiny icicles. 

At work I'm trying to get the head teacher to see the wisdom in giving the children a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

We're supposed to be teaching them all about Thanksgiving, but they don't really need to know about Squanto. 

What does that leave? 

Mashed potatoes. 

Gravy, dressing, cornbread, turkey, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, and pecan pie. 

So far, it's not going that well... But I shall not give up.  

Singles' Day and Salons

China has become normal to us now, I think.

Or at least, for the most part.

I find myself saying "Oooh, China" and shaking my head a whole lot less. 

But then I found out about Singles' Day.

A day where single people are supposed to go out and mingle.

11/11

This year it's a Sunday, today, and that puts a damper on things, I'm sure.

I've also heard that, like Valentine's day, it is a highly commercialized effort to get people to buy romantic gobbledygook.

And anywho, I'm not single.

I finally visited a salon with a coworker of mine today. All my split ends, and styling woes have disappeared. 

I had taken a picture of an article in The Beijinger about what to say, and what to listen for, but thankfully my coworker took care of all the translation needs, and I am quite happy with my cut.

I'm doubly happy that I didn't have to stress about every pronunciation detail, perhaps saying that I wanted bangs, or layers, or a faux-hawk. 

I could not successfully rock a faux-hawk.

Super Husband's midterms are this week, so he is a stick in the mud. 

Buried under a pile of textbooks and notes, mumbling to himself like a crazy man in Chinglish.

Okay, that last bit might be tad exaggerated.

But he is studying hard, and I've been pinning things on Pinterest. 

Educational resources, of course... and... well, uhm, a bunch of yummy recipes, too. 

I really, really need to get a toaster oven. 

That way I could at least make myself a cookie.

Or some baked zucchini chips.

Or personal lasagna rolls.

I miss my kitchen.

And now it's time to hit the hay.

Study the backs of our eyelids, instead of textbooks. 

Election Season

This election season has been interesting.

I don't go in for the cutthroat antics that seems to be marking our political system more, and more. 

It seems worse from over here.

Facebook is littered with people calling each other idiots.

That may not be that new.

I'm just seeing it more, as Facebook seems my only connection with my 

"Real World"

Here in Beijing we're being affected by a changing of the guard.

You can't buy knives in major supermarkets.

Or ping pong balls.

China's google is incredibly slow.

Sometimes the system here confuses me. 

Sometimes it makes perfect sense.

But the big news is still the major election happening on the other side of the world. 

Big news for me, anyway.

China is going on around me, blissfully unaware. 

We're just all hoping that people make the right decision.

The problem is, we don't all agree on what that decision is.

Wool Coats and Steamed Buns

It SNOWED on Sunday.

Today, Monday, there is still snow on the ground.

And at the bottom of the slides on the playground.

It is easily the most snow either of us has ever seen in a place we live. 

We didn't make this snow man, but stumbled upon him outside a fast food restaurant

It may have snowed Sunday, but Saturday was punctuated by nothing more than rain, rain, rain. That didn't stop us from walking to the market, however.

I am now the proud owner of an electric hot water hand warmer. It's honestly the niftiest thing I've seen in a long time. They have them in all kinds of characters and designs. Some are very chic, with silk covers. Others, like mine, are like little warm stuffed animals. Mine features Doraemon, and has served me well in the 48 hours I've had him. 

A quick Amazon search shows that much less fashionable ones generally sell for $30, but I can assure you that I paid no where near that much for mine. 

Doraemon cost me a whopping 30rmb. 

I also bought an elephant humidifier, mostly because the steam blows out of his trunk, but also because I'm not used to these dry, cold environs. The cold I can't help that much, but the dry... well, my new elephant friend is diligently solving that problem for me. 

The heat came on, for the entirety of Beijing, at midnight on Saturday. 

Not that it's very helpful.

I'm going to spend part of my evening at WuMart, picking out a small space heater. 

Yay.

It's not cold at night, under the covers, but it'd be nice to be able to stick a toe out of bed in the morning without it immediately turning blue.

Or perhaps sit on my couch, in the living room, without taking the duvet with me.

Sunday, in addition to frolicking in the snow, we ventured over to the Wudaoko clothing market and truly outfitted ourselves for a Beijing winter.

There are a few things we still need.

Gloves are still a priority.

But now Super Husband and I each have a new hat and two new scarfs. 

Super Husband also picked up a new pair of shoes.

And I am the proud new owner of a lovely black wool coat.

In addition to the aforementioned gloves I still need a new pair of boots. 

And another hat.

And more scarfs.

Maybe I'm going a little overboard, but I've never lived in a place where you need to bundle up for the majority of the months with "R" in them. 

I'm relishing the need to buy scarfs and boots.

I imagine that it's due to the inclement weather, but the chuan'r men have been absent since Friday evening.

This greatly disappoints me, as chuan'r is a large part of my weekend sustenance. 

In lue of chuan'r we hied ourselves over to a delightful little restaurant that sells the best baozi I've ever tried. 

Baozi, if I've not explained it before, are the tiny steamed buns, filled with delicious. 

I am determined to take some of the lovely bamboo steamers back to Texas with me...

Now I want some boazi... and chuan'r... 

Maybe I can have some chuan'r tonight, if the men have returned to their posts...

And on that note, I sign off.

Taata

China Days, Voting, and Red Bicycle Envy

Tuesday was a “China Day”.

If I haven’t explained China Days they are the days where everything that is annoying, or wrong, or mind boggling about life in China combines on a single day and slaps you in the face. Twice.

Let me backtrack to the beginning, so that you can see why it was particularly annoying.

Here, in China, I have a visa. For some reason, or no reason at all, I can only get temporary visas. My first visa expired 60 days after I entered the country. That was Monday. Yes, Monday. Now, I’ve been bugging my agent for three weeks about getting me a new visa.  She just kept telling me that she’d get in touch with me about it later. On Monday morning she called the school’s phone wanting me to meet her at a subway stop on line 10 during my lunch break to sort out my new visa. I agreed, of course. Not even an hour later she texted me saying that it’d be better to meet after work.

As I was under the (misguided) impression that everything was going to be sorted out then, and there, I agreed.

She wasn’t at the subway station, but sent me off to go get the requisite photos, the ones that no one had mentioned before.

Finally, after standing around for a while outside the subway station, she appeared and we made our way up to some office building where my presence was about as necessary as stubbing your toe.

I wasn’t needed, at all.

But what we learned is that there were no more visa pages in my passport.

I had been previously assured that the “amendments” page was perfectly acceptable for attaching visas, but the lady from the agency insisted otherwise.

So, I made an appointment to go to the U.S. Embassy.

Which leads me to Tuesday. 

Now that I recount it, it wasn’t all that bad.

Pointless, yes.

A waste of time? Yes.

But, not so terrible.

I had a 10:30 appointment at the embassy, so I didn’t have to wake up at 6:30, which was nice. Although, even though my alarm was set to 8:30, I woke up at 7. I lazed around until around 9, when I dressed, looked up directions to the embassy, and set off.

Isn’t it interesting, though, how it feels luxurious to laze about in bed on a Tuesday, but isn’t quite as luscious on a Saturday? It feels like a mini-vacation.

I took this picture with my iPhone, so that I would remember how to get there... Herumph

Anyway, the road that Google maps told me to turn down was closed, so I ended up walking about a kilometer out of my way, making a giant circle around the embassy. Once inside everything went smoothly. As a citizen, with an appointment, I was able to bypass the horde of visa seekers standing in long, winding lines and proceed directly up to Citizen Services.  Adding pages to a passport only takes about 30 minutes, and costs $86, so while I was waiting I took the opportunity to vote.

I voted in the 2012 presidential election.

From China.

Squeeee.

After getting my passport back I was supposed to go to my local police station to get an “emergency” registration (because by Tuesday my visa had already expired, and I needed one for just that day, apparently). But those offices are closed from 11:45 to 2pm for lunch. So I walked over to the Starbucks that I had seen on my meander around the area and was finally able to skype with my sister. Not that the connection was very good, but still, it was better than nothing.

I rode the subway back and got the registration from a very nice lady who spoke enough English that I didn’t have to call my feckless agent (who had said on Monday that she would be doing these things with me, acting as translator… I didn’t see her all day. I did it all on my own. Because she’s worthless).

Then I made my way, on the subway again, to the Lama Temple stop, the conjunction of lines 2 and 5, to the PSB: Public Security Bureau. Which is a building full of foreigners getting their visas.

I waited there for 90 minutes before the agency that my agent paid lots of money to expedite these things finally showed up, led me over to a desk, told me to sit in a chair, and then told me I could leave.

That was it.

So, now I’m waiting the seven business days for the return of my passport, with it’s visa that wont expire until the end of January. Or, perhaps even the beginning of February, depending on what day that actually stick it into my passport.

Wednesday was Halloween, but I had no desire to go to work with a sunflower on my head again, so I improvised a bit and with a scarf, some sunglasses, and a strand of pearls I was generically “Movie star”. Grace Kelley, maybe, except she’s blonde. A little Audrey Hepburn, because she wore jeans.

Super Husband joined Zach, Scott and I for lunch, as well. They berated him for not having a costume. Zach was “America’s last hope for ping pong gold” and Scott was a very convincing Dr. Who.

Super Husband isn’t very “into” Halloween. I’m steadily working on bringing him around to the absolute best holiday there is, ever.

I told them his costume was Clark Kent, as his new briefcase/messenger bag looks very “reporter chic”.

Side Note: My iTunes Genius has decided that “Stop” by Spice Girls is a good match for “Tiny Dancer” by Elton John. I haven’t decided how I feel about it yet, but I only downloaded “Stop” because it was in the running for my Bumblebee Showtime performance… I am, admittedly, singing along, though. I even remember the moves my friends and I choreographed to it in fourth of fifth grade.

But, that conveniently brings me to my next point: Elton John is coming to Beijing this month!

I’m really, really excited.

All of the cheapest seats are sold out, so it’s going to be a bit of a splurge, but Elton John deserves a splurge.

Tonight, Friday, Super Husband and I are meeting his friend from UH in Wudaoko for pizza. But first, we’re going to investigate the mall that’s close by. Super Husband keeps calling it a mall, but I have no idea if that means something along the lines of The Galleria, or Pondok Indah Mall, or a maze of tiny stalls hawking everything from real pearls and fake diamonds to hair dryers to mattress covers.

I need some new scarves.

And winter shoes.

And a jacket.

People keep giving me weird looks as I walk to work in Super Husband’s oversized gray hoodie, and I realized, this is a very fashion conscious society. I might not understand, or enjoy some of the choices they make: platform sneakers, an abundance of frilly ruffles, weird color choices… but they certainly don’t wear their husband’s hoodies.

The teachers and helpers at work even come dressed up, some of them quite fancy, and then change into sweats for the day. At around 5:15 you’ll see them all tromping back out, wearing their fancy getups again.

I don’t know if it has anything to do with being ashamed of being a kindergarten teacher, or if this is fairly common practice.

I really need a bicycle.

There’s a woman that rides by the school every morning at around 8:15. She rides a beautiful red bike, with a matching red basket.

I want to steal it from her.

I even figured out where I would park my bike during the day.

The apartments next to the school have a covered walkway where people lock their bikes, so I can park my bike there, and then dash quickly to the front of the school. Now, I just need to procure said bike, and all will be well.

I’m a little nervous about riding through Beijing traffic, but people do it with babies on their bikes, so I’m sure I can do it on my own.

It’s time to get ready for work.

They sky is grey again.

It’s supposed to rain tomorrow.

If it doesn’t, and decides to clear up and be lovely, Super Husband and I are going to 

The Summer Palace.