Because I am easily amused. : )
If I were asked to name the chief benefit of the house, I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace.
– Gaston Bachelard
Happy weekending to you.
Pictures are piling up again. Spring is finally here it seems though, and we have been enjoying it so very much. So while I promise Bath news is coming, meantime I leave you with the old mill stream – literally. Before breakfast I walked along the stream beside the old Beckington Mill in Somerset which dates back to 1086.
It was a frosty morning but the sun quickly warmed things up. The days have been successively more seasonal and sunny since, pulling us outdoors. This is as it should be.
The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see nothing but sand; the angels come to visit us, and we only know them when they are gone.
– George Elliot
Don't let it rush past.
I had a long rambly post about mid-life redirects and change and daring to reinvent oneself. And Typepad ate it.right.up. Not meant to be apparently. Suffice it to say if I have talked to you lately, and you are looking at a curve in the road, you probably know who you are. I hope you know you have all kinds of untapped potential, that the world is a fascinating place full of unexplored corners and side trails, and that you can do things you never thought you could.
Here's to new destinations, yes?
I left them for a second and she ran off with my props <g>
“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"
"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"
"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.
Pooh nodded thoughtfully. "It's the same thing," he said.”
My older daughters and I spent a long girls' weekend in Bath with friends. I hadn't made the reservations nor really investigated much ahead of time so our inn was a delightful surprise. We decided not to stay in Bath proper but rather at a farm not far away. That of course is a real treat for a farm girl. : ) It is fascinating to see the many variations there are on this theme throughout the world.
The mornings begin with a full English breakfast. I was familiar with the tea, but honestly never gave much thought to the term itself, much less how it differed from a continental breakfast. The continental breakfast, common in hotels in the States as well as on mainland Europe, tends to be served buffet style and is on the light side. Cereals, bagels, yogurt, and maybe cheese or cold cuts are common. A full English breakfast is exactly that – full. Huge. Hot. Awesome.
First came the steaming French press, brought out by the lovely gentleman who ran the place. Jugs of fresh local cream sat on the tables topped by weighted doilies, presumably once meant to keep out flies but there were certainly none around. Teapots joined shortly. On a side table there were already bowls of chopped fresh fruit and yogurt waiting.
Then the courses began arriving. There were eggs – boiled, fried, scrambled. Bacon rashers and sausages. A side note on that too is that Americans tend to use side cuts for bacon resulting in what the English call streaky rashers. The more common bacon here is back cut, more like Canadian. There was then toast and croissants. Fried mushrooms and tomatoes. Hash browns.
The farm was bustling early in the day as farms tend to be. Horses were exercised and fed. Chickens, ducks, peacocks, and turkeys meandered just outside the conservatory windows. A little slice of heaven.
“Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for.”
– Maya Angelou
Any guesses where my girlies and I are this weekend? : )
Starry Sky Journal 