St. Kenelm

As many of you know, I am not a city girl. I need a place to go that is close to home and a source of comfort and peace. That place has become St. Kenelm church. The church is in a minimally populated area called Romsley. I love all of it. The small paved entryway off of the road,the arch and wooden carving on it as you enter the grounds are just the beginning. The small church is in a sideways view from the entryway. The grass high above the cement on both sides as you enter.

St. Kenelm is a saint by legend, murdered at the site of this church by a jealous sister that wanted to succeed him as as monarch... legend states that he was only a boy of 7 or 8. Pilgrims used to visit the site when it was a spring only in the hopes of miracles and cures for all sorts of ills. The church was financed by one of the pilgrims of higher standard that claimed was cured of illness. St Kenelm is mentioned in the Canterbury Tales....we've all read that haven't we? I did...so many years ago.

The grounds are medeival and evocative. Behind the church are trails that have been managed and renovated, but still hold a kind of magic that I can't explain. Alongside the trail near the church are wooden carved plaques of sorts with the names of Kenelm and his father KIng Kenulph carved in them. They are rather haunting, as are the swashes of clothing tied to a small area of trees nearby. Matt finds them troubling, I find them fascinating and somehow comforting. Apparently, JRR Tolkien found it comforting here as well as he recovered from a war injury in the Black Country. I only discovered that today...I'm not surprised.
The St. Kenelm trail is some 60 to 80 odd miles in total starting from this church and including the Clent Hills...another stunning place...also medieval and magical. We have yet to do even a good portion of the trial...but I hope to soon. The area is peaceful and solitary....that which is a pleasure to come by here. I feel overwhelmed by the noise and amounts of people here and find it unsettling. Perhaps that has brought into light my being drawn to church and of all things, graveyards. Peace, silence. That which I am used to. That which I miss. Inside of the church is an Anglo carving above the doorway. It is over 800 years old.

The interior simple, understated, calming. We had the pleasure of getting the grand tour by 2 elderly gents that knew all there was to know about the church. Whether we wanted to know or not....bless them. We were all too happy to listen and learn.

Some of the greatest escapes are so close to home. Perhaps a home so close to home. At least, where i feel at home.

London. 3rd time's the charm.

Recently had my third trip to London. My trips there never last long and this time was no exception. We went for the day. Intentions of getting up and driving there at 5am and arriving at 7am fell by the wayside as expected. It was a good decision. By the time we got there, the fog was lifting and rain clearing. We arrived around 10am...by noon, it was a sunny nearly 70 degrees. A gorgeous day. Backpack packed with snacks, we parked the car and decided to walk the city. Our adventure started near Hyde Park..(lovely with all the trees and flowers in bloom) and brought us to the trendy Hard Rock Cafe...(complete with Japanese tourists...hard to see a historical or popular area without one...(no offense to anyone!) Matt had his coffee...he was happy.

Moving along...we went through yet another park...(the name escapes me..) complete with men in suits, ladies in skirts and striped lounge chairs standing alone in the wide open..curious. A faint haze above all. Big Ben off in the distance...as it will stay...been there..no time for him today. Off to other spots.

First stop, Buckingham Palace. My first thought....."Is that it?" The 'palace' itself stands alone, rather lonely surrounded by what has to be one of the tackiest gates I've ever seen. (Sorry Mum...) Although, I did see a police officer with a gun...now THAT is a rare sight here. Whether that is good or bad is up for debate...I will reserve my opinion and spare everyone!
After looking around the place a bit and meshing with the tourists from near and far, we moved on to where the Queen's guards stand. They are as stoic as many have seen on the telly. I was thankful they were not wearing the bear fur hats...i'm rather funny that way. Their horses were gorgeous creatures. Many little children felt the need to attempt to pet them, to what appeared to be dismay of the the guards on them. Or maybe it was just the heat....and the crowd.

Next in toward the heart of London and Trafalgar Square...Where the big lions lay. Huge lions with children and adults slopping themselves all over them. I do like Trafalgar, it's a bit like Europe....no...Brits, don't consider themselves part of Europe from my understanding. Dunno...they even maintained their monetary system for the moment. Good for them! ANYWAY.....I'll get by that....

London really is a gorgeous city. Clean (I REALLY appreciate clean), interesting and architecturally significant.

We continue to wander after stopping to feed my now trembling-with-hunger husband. Sandwiches in the pack save us a hefty bill in a cafe....it is London, after all. Matt makes a better sandwich anyway...

Continuing on, we make our way across the Thames working towards our favorite market near London Bridge. Passing Shakespeare's Round theatre...(quaint..) we finally, after what seems like ages get to the market and wouldn't you know it....they are closed or closing for the day....DRAT! No olives, bread or cheeses to bring home. We move on hanging our heads only momentarily. Time to reach and cross Tower Bridge. A huge tourist draw. Not too bad today....not quiet enough to interest me in paying a fee to go up and get a better view of the harbour..not today. Walking across is rather fun in itself...it IS a handsome bridge.

Not far from it is a foot bridge that crosses the Thames towards St. Paul's Cathdral...looked new and interesting. I couldn't have dragged my partner across with a gun or sedative. Foiled again. Oh well....keep walking we do towards The Tower of London. A place with significant and notorious history.....and TOURISTS! There will be no tour for us today...no pictures with a Beefeater, no Crown Jewels, or Dungeon tour. We both have a near meltdown in the gift shop due to the lack of ability to navigate or breath adequately due to the masses of people...the tower will not happen today....we haven't the time anyway. Whew. Shame...will have to see it one day from the inside...

Time to catch the Underground (tube) and head back to the car. Matt, nor I, are big fans of the 'tube', but it sure beats sitting on a bus for an hour during rush hour...I'll take my chances. Not even time for a quick pub stop...this one looked like a winner...next time.

Matt has an evening planned for us at the Royal Albert Hall. Another new landmark to see. Gotta love that. After a quick coffee and lovely French pastry, at a nice little cafe...it's to the car and a freshen up. Change of clothes, wash up, we feel like new!

Off to the Royal Albert Hall! This hall was developed by Prince Albert as a dedication to his beloved Queen Victoria...sadly, he passed before it's completion in 1871. I love this building!

The outside is striking and prominant. the inside comfortable and not too elaborate. The acoustics are amazing. We saw The Fellowship of the Ring film with the actual symphony playing the soundtrack. Fantastic. The choir was especially notable in this building. The place definitely made for the human voice. I imagine operas there are amazing. Howard Shore, the trilogy's composer spoke before the event. *COOL* I have the best husband EVER!

Thanks honey. :) xx

Ironbridge

Having lived in England for nearly 2 years now, I have not seen even a morsel of what is in this country....small as it is. I must admit though, I have come to love certain areas more than others...even if I haven't seen very many. I have come to adore another small village in our travels.
Probably because it is in my favorite area...Shropshire. There is something so familiar and comfortable about it there. Perhaps because it was one of the first areas I experienced, perhaps because my in-laws are there...who knows?

Recently, Matt took me to the village of Ironbridge. This is the birthplace of the Industrial Revolution. In my mind, not an outstanding claim to fame, but it is not at all what that name states. THE Ironbridge was the first arch bridge made of cast iron in the world. any interest can be found here or elsewhere: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Iron_Bridge

It is a lovely, sleepy little town Such a pristine area, the River Severn, trees, parks....and 4 huge, ominous cooling towers. Matt thought they were 'cool'..(no pun intended)...I felt them to be 'eerie'. In the nuclear meltdown at Chernobyl sense. My mind works a bit heavily at times. Coal processing for electricity makes it the second biggest polluter in Great Britain...though walking through this beautiful area, you would never know it. Even the park near the towers is glorious and clean...complete with flowered arch as you enter. How quaint....and surreal....

Nevermind...the shops are cute, the streets and walkways pleasant. Well...any town with a big bear dressed as a Beef Eater has to be good right?

On yer bike....

I like that. Quick and gets the point across. At least here, it is a way to tell someone to take a hike, go away, take a long walk off a....you get it. Just a little quip to introduce my new hobby. Cycling. Well...I hope to develop it into a serious way to stay fit anyway. Now....I have not really even owned a bicycle since childhood...that I can recall anyway. So...after much coersion from my husband, I decided now was the time. Why not? Aside from fear of broken limbs and a serious lack of coordination...I fancied the idea.

I even now have the bike lock, waterproof gear, lights and gel "saddle" as they are called here. If they are an improvement, how did I ever tolerate the other types?? Ah yes...youth and a much smaller rear section would probably be the reason most obvious.

Matt has cycled for a few years off and on and has recently taking to using it as a mode of transpo to work daily to save money on "petrol". He's far more dedicated than I. Needless to say on our first trial run, he is in much better shape as well. Plus, he's a smoker....grrr. I have really let myself go. Near our home there are canals that can take you to most parts of town. Some areas are paved, some grass, some just plain muck. Remember the bikes of yesteryear? I do! I wouldn't have dreamed of attempting an extremely muddy trail...faceplant would be inevitable. Not the bikes of today...at least not mine! I can blaze through damn near anything....I may live to regret just saying that.... anywho....the canals are the way. A small slice of peace in an overpopulated city....birds, trees, railroad tressels, litter infested canal water (can't have it all...)

Our first day was entirely trail riding and me realizing that I: 1) Still can keep a bike standing while I peddle it...hey, I did wonder.. and 2) MAN, I am really out of shape. I saw my youth and days of effortless workouts flash before my eyes as I whined and cussed the entire ride back home. Matt will attest to that....that is when he was close enough to earshot and not meters ahead of me.....grrr.

That evening, thought maybe I had fallen off of the bike and hit pavement or turf several times without recollection for the pain I was feeling. Or perhaps I actually thought I was still 16 while leaving the bikeshop in my giddy glory with my new found toy. Sure Jule....

What was a pleasant surprise is that the following morning the feeling had passed, I no longer felt that I had been mercilessly beaten. That was encouraging. Albeit, not enough so to make me hop on the bike at 6am Monday morning to pedal to work. haha PLEASE! *sigh* I'll get there.

I found myself making excuses daily....."it's far too windy or rainy", "my trick knee is playing up", " i think I have to vomit"....well...maybe not that desperate. I figured I would just walk home to make up for my sins. Drat....that takes me an hour on a good day...1 & 1/2 on a bad one. I surely can't keep that up for lack of patience, especially in the rain. As my friend Tracy says: "If you wait for the wind or rain to stop, or otherwise have decent weather to bike....haha...you won't use it much..." haha....hush up Tracy....even if you are right!

So...I got my duds on today, being a Saturday and relatively nice day (for England) and did a canal pedal. It was only a couple of miles....but I did it and conquered the somewhat meager hills without quitting, without whining. I even had to tell Matt when I got home. "Ah..oh..that's nice love.." Back to his puttering.... Yet, I felt good and positive, thinking about future trips to the countryside the two of us cycling for miles, battling the elements in our spandex and raingear. Yes....the thought passed. Oh well...it's a start. Plus, I wouldn't subject the masses to me in spandex....I'll just leave it at that...

Stonehenge

Finally got to Stonehenge last month. Even though quite a mecca for tourists, I found it an amazing piece of history.

We started our day out by visiting the small community of Avebury. A lovely village in the countryside. We took a stroll down the only street admiring a small local church and the thatched roof homes. I, of course, had to stop in the small eclectic New Age gift shop. The stones are the longest stone circle in the world....over 1400 ft in diameter and covers roughly 28 acres. Some of the stones have their own names...Barber Stone (a skeleton with small belongings was found beneath it dated 14th century), Swindon Stone (the largest, about 60 tons) and Devil's Chair (a popular with those wanting to dabble in the black arts, legends say)...among others. These are not stacked or "dressed". They stand alone, those that are left, after flooding and other natural occurances. It is rather an amazing circle and sometimes not seen for those that only find interest in Stonehenge. Shame. I found it more powerful and magical. Perhaps due to the lower amount of tourists and lack of admission fee. These stones have been cleaned at occasions due to the appearance of graffiti. Kids. Go figure.

Then we were off to Stonehenge. I have longed most of my life to see these stones and they are quite a sight I will agree. They can be seen somewhat from the road...if you can see beyond the fence and clusters of amateur and semi-pro photographers. The fee, a measley 7 pounds (about $11.50) to see something that is admired and a vision of awe around the world. The area is fenced and roped. By my ears, the majority of the tourists Eastern European or North American (Canadian or American...never assume...the Canadians hate that)....a few Asians thrown in for good measure with the even more occasional Brit. One can never get close to the stones, and must be content with getting "close enough" and "enjoying" the audible tour guide you wear strapped around your neck. The stones are not as massive as I had envisioned, but incredible in any case. We were lucky enough to be there as the sun was lowering in the sky. It is quite a site indeed. I was impressed and glad to have made the trip.

The drive away and into Salisbury was through winding countryside with the sun setting. Glorious. Matt knows that I have an overwhelming urge to visit cathedrals all over the country. The night was unreasonably cold...even for a Yooper such as myself. The cathedral (although one side almost entirely covered with scaffolding) was a sight to behold. Lit up and brilliant in the night sky. The inside was peaceful and uncrowded (hallelujah). We were just in time for Evensong and politely directed to sit for the service and not be wandering about. We chose to sit under the unreachable ceiling and not with the choir as we could have (the inner chapel's seating area has one on each side of the wall facing each other...not the standard all-facing- front style...reminds me of Parliament actually). The choir and ministers walked in procession style and stood around a very large, realistic display of Christ's manger. I don't know if any of you have been fortunate enough to visit a cathedral during mass or Evensong...it is worth even staying for a moment or two. The environment, accoustics and singing can move one to tears. Even one of no religious affiliation or belief such as myself. It is an amazing experience.

I am thankful for days like these...they make me realize where I am and what is really important in life. Moments.

Time to rest...

I recently had the honor of attending the funeral of our dear old neighbor Jess. Jess was in his late 70s, a right ornery old cuss with family, loved by most others in the community. A true "Black Country chap". It was not my first funeral in England, but was the most traditional in most respects. Not as traditional as some have been, and still are...no horse drawn hearse...but more traditional than I know. Yet, I was not family. Nonetheless, I felt it was a calming experience for all in attendance. Many of you may have attended such occasions, but for all of my years, I had not.

A large hearse arrived on our street, full of windows and the casket in full view. All the attendees stood along the street to watch it pull up in front of the family home. A young woman emerged in a smart black suitdress complete with cane, hair pulled into a ponytail with a top hat on. She approached the door, removing her hat, knocked on the door and escorted Jess' wife June to a limosine behind the hearse.The male staff then removed what seemed like 20 or better bunches of flowers that were placed on the casket or tied down to the top of the car upon a rack. A few were the letters...Dad...Uncle and others. The immediate family rides in the limo and others follow in cars. The procession went a mile or two down a busy street midweek.
The graveyard had a small hall that seated very few...many of us stood...not a problem. Cat Stevens "Father and Son" piped in outside and in as we entered. Who knew he was a fan? The minister was a young man (40 tops) with spiked hair and piercings. He oversees the "church" near our home. He and his wife have a youth group for teens several nights a week...this country needs more like him. He stated a few words, those from family and his own, then a prayer. Short and appropriate. "How Can I Tell You", another Cat Stevens song playing as we exited the building.

We went to the grave and he was laid to rest. A very lovely tribute to a life. Even the gathering after was very understated and pleasant. Rest easy Jess.

Lately, I have noticed that motorcycle funerals are quite popular here. The English love their motorcycles as much, if not more than Americans. I am sure that they have been done many times over in the states, but I had never seen a bike procession or least of all a bike hearse before. Fitting for those who spend most or all of their time on 2 wheels rather than 4.

Friends Make the Stay

There have been many months of darkness and cold. The trips and weekends away have been few. This has not been easy for me...since this house is small and the neighbors cannot breathe without my knowing of it. Winter is never a great time for me.

One aspect of the time here in the last year gone that has kept my sanity in place many times over, is the friendships that I have made along my way. There are some that know exactly what I am going through, for they experience it themselves everyday. That would be my 3 dear friends, Maria, Tracy and Julie....( all of whom I feel I've known for years and have only known about a year and 1/2). I am blessed to have the support and encouragement of these ladies that are American Expats as I am. Our get-togethers can be a bit infrequent at times, but when we do meet up (which was twice this month...I am happy to say!), we just pick up where we left off...(yet, we do keep in touch by email normally..modern technology!) Plus, they like the coffee places as much as I do...:))! Starbucks is usually our place of choice...the familarity and all...(yes...they are taking over England too....) I don't care what anyone says...Starbucks is like a slice of home...(even if they won't take our group picture for us...right ladies..? Well...whatever! We make do....:) These girls have helped me through many a rough time....and I am grateful

I also have friends that I work with that are from many places.... Nigeria, India, Jamaica, Pakistan, Malaysia, Phillipines, China, and here in the Black country. Some here to stay...some passing through as I am and also trying to find their place far from home. I have been so fortunate to find such kind people that offer support and understanding daily.

My first job in England (thanks to my brother-in-law Nick :), also was marked by working with kind and special people that I still remain in contact with. We recently had a bowling day out on a Sunday that we hope to repeat again very soon. Along with the occasional night out for dancing and a few pints, they are the sort that are thought of with good memories and the hope to catch up with them soon...good Black Country folks. Down-to-Earth, caring and sincere. The English yooper, if you will. :)

Matt also has some really great friends that we spend time with as well...although not as often as we would like to. One couple in particular, we frequent what is now our favorite Balti house near home with them. They are fun and caring people, dedicated to their children and each other. The sort of people you feel better just being in their company. That means a lot. When one is far from what they know, they come to realize that it isn't where you are, but who your surround yourself with. Even though I am far from home, because of the friendships I have made, I feel closer to home in a way. As I always say....I really am blessed.