This week I passed my UK driving test.  The silver fox who administered the exam said that I ride the brake, but that my roundabouts are excellent.

The relief I feel is so complete, it’s almost crushing.  When I arrived in this country, I got into a taxi and squealed with terror as the driver drove safely around a roundabout.  It didn’t make sense.  They drive on the wrong side of the road for starts…and there’s something gladiatorial about roundabouts.  They’re both circles.

For thirteen years I told myself I couldn’t do it.  But for some reason I decided to try.  It took me over a year from the theory to the practical test.  It took many lessons with a patient instructor. Once he even had to console me as I wept silently,  from the weight of it all, as we drove through Staines.

I know taking a driving test is not stressful in the scheme of things.  It’s not life or death stuff.  There are surgeons operating on little kids, NAVY SEALS rappelling through windows whilst firing machine guns;…Dennis Rodman having to pretend Kim Jong Un is better at at basketball.

I’m still very proud though.

Mini Bounty Bars and an Apple

I’m tired this week, so this is the fanciest thing I made.  I suggest you try it.  It’s delightful.

Or try this.

Party Punch