Cast of Characters

The Adventures of The Wetherby Hillbillies

Please let me introduce the main characters:
My husband, Grover, the ring-leader.

Grover’s a mad genius and about as eccentric as one can get. With his wild, thick grey hair, he’s been described as a cross between a disheveled English professor and a mad scientist. But because he’s intelligent, kind and generous he somehow gets away with his outlandish behavior. He works from home managing a small hedge-fund, keeps around-the-clock hours, and sleeps when he can. His microscopic home office is covered with yellowing Barons newspapers, Doom and Gloom reports, reams of performance reports that he prints out on a weekly basis (and then leaves all over the house), faxes sent from his office in Palo Alto, old magazines etc. He refuses to let any of this rubbish get thrown away. His office is overflowing with so much paper you can’t see his desk or the floor, so he now he has taken over our daughter Lindsay’s playroom. Mostly you’ll find him in his white bath robe hunched over the computer. When he’s not doing that, he’s on the treadmill, walking in his white robe and leather loafers, yes loafers! He wears large headphones and watches Bloomberg on the television or most recently, episodes of 24 or the Sopranos on DVD. He’ll occasionally take a break to walk up the stairs to our kitchen and open a fabulous bottle of Bordeaux (sometimes a magnum depending on how rough the day was) to let it breathe in time for dinner. He somehow squeezes in a shower before we all have dinner as a family at 6:30 with candles, wine, the works…

Grover and I couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. For some strange reason he doesn’t like fresh air and never opens a window. At one point, while we were living in Portola Valley, after years of listening to high-decibel snoring and suffocating in our bedroom which had forced-air heating blasting out from overhead vents, I stomped out of bed, found an old sleeping bag and yelled: "I'm outta here!" I slept outside on our deck and even though it was nearly freezing I had never slept better in my life. Knowing that it was supposed to rain (or possibly snow) the next night, I dug out a tent from storage and pitched that. I forgot about the rain fly, so when it did indeed rain, I got soaked. The next night I made sure I secured the rain fly and slept happily ever after for the next 4 months, where at that time we all uprooted and went to our home in Canada for the summer. When I returned back to California, I discovered that my tent had disintegrated from the harsh UV rays. I never bothered getting a new one so ended up sleeping under the stars for the next year and loving it. The major problem occurred when it rained: I had to move my makeshift camp (feather bed and down comforter) back inside and return to suffering in the heat. And it wasn’t just the sleepless nights that were awful—the flaky skin and nose bleeds weren’t so great either. If I could, I’d still be outside, except Central London isn’t the best place to live out my fantasy of sleeping with the moon and stars every night.

The lead in the supporting role is Paul F, our assistant from California who is currently living with his family at our home in Portola Valley. He claimed to have moved from his house two hours north of San Francisco into ours in order “spend more time at the office” in Palo Alto. As outrageous as this sounds, it has worked well for both of us because while we are in London he looks after our beloved dog Rusty, who we got from the pound nearly 14 years ago. In addition to not paying rent, property taxes, or any utility bills his children get to attend the local PV schools which are considered some of the finest in California. But somehow all this is justified because he and his wife also look after Lindsay’s best friend Stevie and her Taiwanese mother who have been living in our guest house for several years. They have been staying with us until Vickie’s legal affairs (citizenship, probate issues) get in order. Her husband and Stevie’s father, an American, died without providing them with an adequate income or a Green Card. Grover has spent countless hours advising her legal team, but it has paid off. We just got word that she received her Green Card and she can legally stay in the US as long as she wants. We love Stevie like our own daughter and are thrilled to help her.

When I return to California I don’t even think of staying at my home in Portola Valley. There’s no room for me! Luckily I have a great flat in Pacific Heights in San Francisco, so I’m happy to spend all my time there. Of course, I miss Rusty but I know he’s happy because he plays and sleeps with Paul’s 6 year-old son.

This odd living situation may soon change because Grover has been trying for the past three years to buy his Grandfather’s ranch in Central California. The trustee (his sister) wanted to sell it to sell it to a man from LA, but Grover has been fighting hard to keep it in the family. If everything goes as planned, it looks like Paul and his family may move Fresno in order to be closer to the ranch. In fact he’s planning on getting his Master’s Degree in Soil Sciences. We’re all hoping this huge investment will pay off!

Paul has also just requested that we hire him a personal assistant. It sounds crazy, but after I listened to just a small percentage of the things he needs to accomplish over the next two years, I also agree that he needs one. So, yes, our PA, now has a PA!

Jenny Mickel: our Scottish nanny who’s been with us over three years. She’s a cute, sporty brunette whom we met through another friend of ours from Canada. Since Lindsay is in school eight hours a day, Jenny has plenty of personal time. She goes to the gym in the morning, and since she’s a devout Jehovah Witness she spends her days studying The Truth and doing ministry work. If anyone’s perfect to “spread the word” it’s Jenny. She’s very friendly and chatty, and is an excellent listener. When we met Jenny she wasn’t involved with the Witnesses at all, but after she met her boyfriend (a personal trainer at her gym) he introduced her to The Truth. Since her involvement with their local congregation, I’ve seen many positive changes in Jenny’s personality. She’s much happier, has a great attitude and is very well-grounded.

Jenny has become much more than a nanny to us: she graciously runs our errands, grocery shops and cooks dinner when Janet (who changed her name to Janelle), our part-time cook, isn’t working. She lives at our Courtfield Road flat, two blocks away from our flat on Wetherby Gardens, and keeps it in tip-top shape. We have a revolving door of guests so this isn’t always easy.

Jenny’s first week of work didn’t start off that well: on her second day, I heard moaning coming from her bedroom on Courtfield Road (where we all lived previous to Wetherby Gardens). I went downstairs and found her clutching her stomach. She kept saying that she really isn’t a complainer, but something is seriously causing her pain. She mentioned that she had taken an extra dose of Senacot (a mild laxative), so at first we thought it was just her digestive system acting up. But after an hour of the pain getting increasing, I took her to our private doctor down the road. From there things only got worse. We had to call an ambulance, which showed up nearly an hour later as it had been dispatched from Surrey (50 miles away). The ambulance took us to Chelsea & Westminster Hospital where we both in the emergency room for 6 hours. She had every intern in London checking on her. Some had manuals, others had medical dictionaries. Not very reassuring…. Finally she was diagnosed with an ovarian cyst, was wheeled upstairs and operated on the next day. She remained in the hospital for 5 days and was more worried about the fact that she had just started her job than her operation. She’s totally fine and still with us. Her first encounter with Grover’s personality can be read on my posting “Blackout”.

Janet ‘Janelle’ Langford: We met Janelle on Salt Spring Island. She's an attractive blue-eyed blonde who speaks four languages. Her passion is cooking and she seems to enjoy all that goes along with her job, including grocery shopping at the world-famous Harrods Food Halls and walking up to the markets along Portobello Road to by fresh produce and spices. She lives with Jenny at our Courtfield Road flat. She has an easy-going attitude that is necessary when working for a man like my husband. He’ll often call her at 4pm telling her we have five more people showing up for dinner and he’d like osso bucco, (which takes at least 4 hours to prepare). She does a lot of meditation and boundary work which I think is the only way she manages to stay sane while working for us. She also blesses the fruit and vegetables and claims she’s able to pick up sonic vibrations from the produce: the ones emitting the strongest force end up in our dinner.

It’s not unusual for us to have to have between 6-10 people for dinner 3 times a week. Our kitchen in London is very small (by American standards) and I honestly don’t know how Janelle manages all the courses and the dishes that pile up. More than once the sink has backed up and the dishwasher has stopped working several times. This is a disaster because Janelle ends up having to hand-wash the dishes in the guest bathtub downstairs. Of course this always happens on a Friday or Saturday which means we can’t get a plumber in until Monday. Let me tell you, when this happens, you don’t want to come anywhere near the kitchen the following morning.

We’re even busier in Canada. Again, not unusual to have lunch for 12-14 people and then dinner for 8--on the same day! But at least we have a bigger kitchen and the appliances and plumbing seem to work okay. My mom loves it because when she comes to visit, usually for a week, she gains at least 10 pounds. She’s one of those rare people who actually need to gain weight. It’s a miracle I’m not 500 pounds, but I guess with my rowing, kayaking and swimming I manage to burn enough calories to get through the summer without having to buy an extra seat on the plane.

Richard R: Richard is Grover’s research assistant and analyst. He has a first-class degree from University of London and then went on to win a scholarship to Oxford where he majored in Anthropology. He is an author of seven books which have been translated into 12 languages and has presented four history documentaries for Channel 4. Richard spends a lot of time at my little flat on garden flat in Pacific Heights, San Francisco. In between working 14 hours a day, he waters my plants which have somehow survived for over ten years with absolutely no TLC.

Richard’s wife, Robin, helps us out too. She is the most organized and methodical person I know. When she went to visit her husband in San Francisco she got more done for me (organizing a move from one house to another) in one week than most people could do in a month. Robin’s a Native American Cree Indian from Vancouver who speaks with a posh English accent. And luckily for me she has OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder). She’s a neat freak and likes everything to have its place. This is a huge advantage for us because she is currently sorting out Grover’s small home office in London as well as Lindsay’s play room. Hopefully when she’s finished we can actually see the floors! Robin also sadly suffers from bi-polar disease. But fortunately things have leveled off for her and she’s doing really well. As long as she keeps busy there’s nothing stopping her.

Katie and Stacy Burke: Sisters Stacy and Katie are originally from Montreal, Quebec. They spent their childhood traveling throughout Canada, living in a van while their musician father looked for gigs and their mother looked after them. They’re very proud of their free-spirited upbringing and are currently both pursuing careers as musicians. They are extremely talented singer-songwriters and have each cut recorded a CD. We met Katie on Salt Spring Island seven years ago. She started working for us as a nanny when Lindsay was just a year-and-a-half and has been with us in some capacity ever since. She has lived with us in London, San Francisco, Portola Valley and Canada, and has traveled with us on many vacations. Stacy has been there for us too, helping out in Canada and traveling with us when Lindsay was little, and most recently to St Barth’s. Even though Katie and Stacy have been working as musicians they still continue to work for us in the summers. They mostly fill in as baby-sitters when Jenny isn’t available, which is critical when we have loads of children at our house. Our home in Canada is like a summer camp for all the little girls (and a few boys) on the island. Some days there will be as many as 20 kids at the pool and at least ten nannies sunbathing in bikinis. Of course my husband loves it! He’ll fire up the barbeque and crank up the granita machine which churns out the most sickly-sweet slushies. The little girls can get enough of them. I try not to think of their glycemic indices shooting into the stratosphere, but since it’s a holiday I look the other way. Half the time the slushies end up spilling all over the deck which attracts swarms of bees. The girls love this too because they get to play with the “bug whacker” which looks like a tennis racket with electrically charged strings. They then run around screaming and zapping the bees before they get stung themselves.

Stacy and Katie also fly with several little girls in our De Havilland Beaver (an extremely safe, low-flying float plane) once a summer to the infamous PNE (Pacific Northwest Exhibition) in Vancouver. I didn’t exactly know how to describe the PNE so I asked Lindsay and she said it’s “the funnest carnival in the world”. I choose to pass on this action-packed day as I’m not fond of crowds, excessive heat rising from the acres of pavement, stomach-hurling rides or greasy corn dogs and mini donuts. The girls have a ball and come back exhausted. I, on the other hand, know that this is the one day I can enjoy my beautiful home on the harbor all by myself. Bliss.