This Side of the Pond

The percentage of British occupying the Pridgeon compound has tripled with the arrival of my dear parents, who braved the long voyage from the homeland for more than two months of vacation in the glorious green-up of our Black Hills.

They reside for the moment in an old hunting cabin located in our yard, which we repurposed in a roaring hurry upon hearing they’d booked their plane tickets. Once a lodge for a local squirrel with bare wood walls and a tin roof, it has now been properly insulated and floored and even boasts a tea kettle for that most basic of British necessities.

We are feeling p...