My first grey day: I believe this is the very first
time, in all the seventy five days I’ve been here in England, where it has
rained straight, without ceasing, for the majority of the day. (I know you may
find that hard to believe – thinking, but surely it has done that often. If you
would have told me this several years back, I would not have believed it either
myself. It’s like my experience with Washington: when I pictured what it must
be like in that state, I imagined green, green, green and rainy most all the
time. When I finally did find myself there, I discovered it was not the case on
either count. My vision of the UK’s weather in the past has been one of an environment
of constant downpours. Well, not this time around – at least, not so far,
anyway. Leah says, oh, just you wait! For one she tells me that during the
month of June, before I came, there was a LOT of rain!) But today, even that which
we did have was sort of just a very fine mist. Can’t hurt you too much – and besides
the air wasn’t too cool either. The worst thing this kind of rain – referred to
as “spitting” – can do is make your hair curlier . . . IF you have curly hair –
which I do.
This morning I met Leah at a different sort of
“school,” also up the hill, this time up Selly Park Avenue. (Man, I live in a
logistically convenient spot – and I didn’t even know it when I contracted to
reside here. Brilliant!) This was a play group for toddlers and babies at one
of the local churches, in this case St Stephens. (You gotta be a St. something
or other in order to qualify as a church, don’t you know?! I guess we’ll never
make it.) Held in the particular Anglican church where Leah’s good friend,
Libby, is the wife of the pastor (good friends because they each have corresponding
school-age children who have moved up together through the ranks), it is an
awesome concept known as ‘Stay and Play,’ where any child who has not reached
school age – as early as four here in England – is invited to participate.
(That first public school level is known as Nursery. After that you begin
Reception, like our kindergarten, the level Ollie started this year.) There is
a minimal fee – to cover toast and apple slices, etc – and the room is all laid
out with different toddler activities (kind of like the old-fashioned
kindergarten – sort of like back when I was in kindergarten, before they spoiled it by introducing studying and learning to read and all.) Leah had to trick Ella
away from the kid-sized, plastic car thing, which she loves above everything
else, so she could get some play experience with her peers in! Besides free play, there is a craft, snack and singing time. It takes
place every Friday from 10 to 11:30am, and, of course, moms are in attendance –
one of the main reasons for having it, don’t you know?!
On my walk up, headed in the direction of St
Edwards, on my way to St Stephens, I heard the sound of bag pip music lilting through the air. Must be a funeral, I thought, seeing as how in my experience that is
when the pipes are typically heard in our neck of the woods – if it’s not for a festival or something. Perhaps
they’ll be buried in the cemetery across from Leah and Martin’s. Actually I disovered it was a wedding when the church came into full view - false alarm! Hopefully the newlyweds won’t
be doing any stopping over in Lodge Hill any time soon! (See day sixty-seven for a full
view of St Edwards Catholic Church.)
**So I had this random wicked thought: Myfanwy
went off by train this morning to Bristol – to visit her daughter, Kate, and
her boy, Gus – leaving her car behind, parked in the gAyrage. So I was
thinking, what if I snuck it out and took it for a little spin?! Intriguing idea,
but not even! The moral issue aside, as I am NOT a teenager, the potential dire
consequences of such an action are fixed firmly in my mature mind. Just a crazy
passing adolescent fantasy . . . you know, leave me in the house alone and you’ll
NEVER be exactly sure what I’ll be up to!
Awhile back I took a risk and
purchased this really cool sham from a major department store for a song, because the zipper was broken. I have had experience with fixing zippers
before, and though it is not easy, it can be done. I was waiting for just the
right moment, knew that I’d forget all everything else when I got engrossed in the
challenge. This morning I decided I had waited long enough and went for it.
It’s not working, it’s not working, it’s not
. . . and then it does! Hurray, success! I did it – brilliant again!
Another project - dyed my hair. That’s adventure
enough, right there! (more of the "one side of what comes out of the faucet scalds you while the other side freezes you" trauma!)
Photos_
1- Stay and Play
2- *baby love – Libby’s daughter, Katy, and baby
Ella
3- highbrow wedding day at St Edwards (see merrymakers
decorating the getaway car on the right)
3- breathtakingly cool Union Jack (now with properly working zipper – and stuffed!) and map (I have photographed my success story here
along with my map of England that I bought at BYU some number of years back,
took to England, brought back home, have now returned with a second or third
time and found a great use for. At Martin’s creative suggestion, I’ve put it up
on the wall so I can mark places I’ve been with, what are called, knob pins {to
a dressmaker, anyway}. My map is a world traveler!)
4- ***British slug, out looking for dry ground (and
you thought you had ugly slugs – check out this baby. Eeoo!)
5- seeing as how we’re into comparisons, here, how about this: 1.5 kg package of Scottish porridge oaks for £1.49 – aka regular, plain, old, ordinary oatmeal, of the non-processed variety; mostly what you find around here is what we would call quick or instant oats – not what I want to use to dilute the yummy muesli I buy - also had for a song
