Fly high. A now familiar send off to step dancers. That is just what they did in their first feis in England. It was a little intimidating, like moving into the big leagues. Our dancers did a respectable job and were quite inspired. Dean Crouch, a successful young dancer turned musician, played in one hall which was a treat in itself. Even better was seeing friends from our old dance school who had come for the feis.
I should have mentioned it was a long day. : )
The happy thing to talk about is tea today with these two. It has not been easy to get a table at this little tea room near the antique barn. The posted hours seem to be more suggestions than hard-and-fast opening and closing times. We tried to bring Megan a few weeks ago. We tried a couple days ago to take all the girls. That time we came very close. It was open when we arrived at the barn, but all the lights were out and doors locked before closing time. I was half expecting the same this afternoon when we came on Alannah's day off but we hit the jackpot. Tea and cakes while watching the wind and drizzle pick up out the windows.
That is the happy thing. The not-so-happy thing was the tree down in the road later in the evening. Or the lorry that hit us from behind. This is life too, yes? Not all tea and cakes. Still, we are all three safe and well and the driver has sent all his company's information to cover us it seems. Just am a little rattled still which explains editing in the wee hours. So off to bed with me now.
"The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?"
– JB Priestly
It was serendipity if ever there was that. A three day weekend and totally snowed in. A pile of kids spilling out of the doors and into this white wonderland. It wasn't terribly cold so it was a challenge to keep people "properly dressed." There is also someone eating snow in almost every frame from the day. Before long the snow was airborne and they were dodging in and out of hedges and snowballs were launched up and over walls. The washer and dryer were humming into the night with wet mittens and jackets and socks.
"…only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself."
~Ruth Stout
My beautiful baby girl – a willing walking partner, a dedicated dancer, a gentle spirit. I am so glad you were born.
….across the Atlantic Sea….
The thing about the Manchester road trip is that I can't stop singing this song. I have Hair lyrics echoing in my brain everytime I go to write this post. Which has been a few times now.
Zach was fortunate enough to have a college friend in Manchester who had tickets to a Manchester United game. We haven't been to that side of the country so the girls and I decided to drive them up and make a couple days of it. The game drew a spectacular crowd which shut down the streets for blocks around. I dropped Zach and Megan near the stadium and then drove back out against the tide of bodies pressing forward to the entrances. It was like parting the Red Sea. That part of the trip however was a highlight for Z. He is sharing this video. Just remember this is England and it's a soccer game. I am not responsible for any language you might overhear. <g>
https://www.facebook.com/v/10151296547274381
Beyond that this was not the most wildly successful road trip to date. It was Boxing Day for starters. That's the British equivalent of Black Friday. While the stores were open pretty much nothing else was either that day or the following or apparently many of the days between Christmas and New Year's.
We didn't get to see some of the things Zach had on his list like the old library. We did get to walk around and stopped into the People's Museum which houses a collection of memorabilia from various labor movements. Some was fascinating. Some downright disturbing. Some made me chuckle, like the informational sign about "Tom Paine" who came off like a rabble rouser from the 'colonies'.
There was a very urban and industrial vibe there which isn't usually our thing. Ok my thing. Still, it was a legitimate adventure. The drive home was a challenge. It has been so wet some of the roads were closed due to standing water and our GPS doesn't recover well in those situations. We all fell into bed right quick afterwards. We did get to travel through some beautiful open farmland land while detouring on the way back. Way more my speed. I hope to share soon.
"Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments, embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour." – John Boswell
After a full and bustling December we are settling into a somewhat quieter January. Breath in, breathe out. It is a little window before things pick up again and I have learned to gather moments where they can be found. This week we have brought home into clear focus again, taking into account the things scheduled in coming weeks and months and balancing those with a steady rhythm in this house and a generous dose of idle hours. We need those too.
There is a board where local bird watchers make notes of recent sightings. We didn't see anything too exotic but lots of ducks and swans. And birdwatchers. Hard core bird watchers. I admit to some camera envy. Holy cow. The equipment there rivaled the sidelines of an NBA game.
If you look closely you see the blonde backs of some lowland cattle grazing in the tall grass prairie.
Our landlord has been puzzled by our family. Having mostly dealt with single airmen and working, childless adults he had come to some conclusions about Americans. One of those was that we don't like veggies. At least, not much beyond french fries, spaghetti sauce and salsa. He was surprised when we processed all those apples. Amused when we gleaned the onions. So he began to drop by with other things, like the carrots and leeks.
During our last visit we were discussing some local markets and farm stands and he was asking if we ate celery, 'beetroot', and so on. Then he thought for a moment and asked if we liked sprouts. I said, "Oh yes, we LOVE them!" Then he puzzled me by saying, "Do you now? I have a stalk right over here." I was trying to imagine who travels with alfalfa sprouts when he returned with these, commonly known as just "sprouts."
Fair enough. We actually DO like those too. In fact they were incredible steamed and buttered. (even though I let them sit a bit too long in the conservatory and had to peel away a few bad leaves seen here) They were so sweet and tender and not the least bit bitter, as frozen sprouts tend to be. I am going to have to track down this farmer.
We couldn't let her leave without seeing the ponies after all.
“He stood staring into the wood for a minute, then said: "What is it about the English countryside — why is the beauty so much more than visual? Why does it touch one so?"
-Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle
Starry Sky Journal 