England Swings like a Pendalum Do

Ellie visited us in London in 1969. She'd just finished her sophomore year of college and with a girlfriend was touring Europe. My newish husband and I, along with our brand new (and I mean Brand New) baby, Jane, were living in West Hampstead on the third floor of a Victorian walk-up. West Hampstead was nothing like Hampstead, but it was close enough that I could walk to my doctor appointments in the real Hampstead. Ellen had written to me earlier in the spring saying she and her friend were going to be in London the first week in June and could they stay with us. I was overjoyed that one of my closest friends from home was coming for a visit. My husband, the Voice of Reason, said don't you think you're taking on too much. I mean we're going to have a baby. I wrote her back and said we'd LOVE to have you stay with us. We can't wait. Ellen and Gail arrived when my baby was 12 days old. When my baby was 14 days old, we had a party. Yes, that's right...a party.

There are photographs of that party evening. Everyone looks so young and hip. I look young, hip and exhausted. Ellie looks beautiful and happy...carefree and quite sane.