My traveling companion and I arrived too late for lunch and too early for tea, so we stowed our luggage and set out for a walk in the gardens that surrounded our English cottage that would be our home for the week.
It was rather warm and it had been six weeks since they had had rain. The gardens looked a bit dry and wilted. Not to worry. The flowers were still blooming. The air was clean and my favorite fragrance Gardenia was everywhere. As we walked the fragrances mingled into something wonderful and I knew I was in my happy place. Why do the English love flowers so much? And gardens? And hanging baskets filled with color? Why do I love them so much?
When we came upon the church I had to go in.
I remembered it from my last visit. It smelled musty and it was chilly inside. A brief respite from the heat. There’s always fresh flowers displayed throughout this small 12th century parish church of the Holy Rood (Rood means cross). It is my peaceful place. I pray for spiritual revival in my own heart and in the hearts of those I love when I go there. And I pray for the two nations I love. Mostly I like to sit quietly and let my mind wander uninterrupted.
I looked at my watch. 3pm. Time for afternoon tea. Jet lag is starting to settle in. A nap sounds better than tea. I choose tea and so does Nancy. The other cottage guests join us. They are loud and laugh about everything. I don’t see the humor in all their stories. Nancy seemed amused. And that was what mattered. This trip is about her.
I excused myself early so that I could have some alone time in our Room With A Nice View. I unpacked and got my things settled and I pulled out a novel. A fiction novel. This is important to note because I only read nonfiction. However, I told my oldest daughter Ashley and my dear friend Debbie that I would read a fiction book while away on holiday. Honestly, I was having trouble getting started and besides my eyelids were far too heavy to read anyway.
I could hear talking. I knew Nancy was talking to someone I just didn’t know she was talking to me. I had fallen asleep and now it was time for dinner at our English cottage. I wondered what kind of interesting dinner conversation our first evening together would bring.
I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. Evidently I was quite funny and I didn’t even know it. The other cottage guest that cackled all the time said I looked like a baby who was falling asleep in her food. Great. Just the impression I wanted to make. Oh well. The delight of the evening was a dessert called an “Eton Mess.” More on that later. Let’s just say that the dinner was delicious and if the rest of the week is like this we are going to be spoiled. Oh, my!
Our evening was filled with getting to know one another and gaining much information about our excursions which all looked interesting and adventurous.
Jet lag was getting the best of me, so it was off to bed.
Musings from England,