Black Country Museum

The Black Country is located in the West Midlands of England and is considered the area that birthed the industrial revolution. The name, it is said, comes from the mass amounts of coal that actually made the soil black. Others believe it arose from the industrial filth and pollution that filled the area at the Victorian period. JRR Tolkien being one of those, supposedly basing Mordor on the desecration of the area at that time. Not a great claim to fame. We owe much that we have today on this revolution, good, bad or otherwise.
One gorgeous Sunday morning we met with friends Lynda and Nigel at the museum that tells the Black Country story. Us, and about 100 boy and girl scouts aged 4-10 roughly. Plus the occasional family and elderly couple. A mixed bag, really.

We started with a cable bus ride into industrial heart of the area. Smokestacks and canals complete with canal boat remnants. Within a short time, after a morning cuppa, we watched a blacksmith make chain link, one link at a time. Ugh. I thought I had a mundane job. Everyone in the time took part, women and even children made the smalled links. Payments was by length of links or chain. Metal working I could watch for hours, but it was time to move on.

The remade classic village was coming to life and the tourists were invading. The corner hardware store, the 'supermarket' (a shop the size of your kitchen that sells everything from groceries to hats), bakery, and candy store. Musn't forget the pub and cinema. The cast of characters are volunteers from the older population. I was chastized by the woman in the general store for not wearing my bonnet, and amused by the jovial policeman walking the beat. I could have watched him for hours. This area has a destinct accent like all of England. It never ceases to amaze me how such small areas can have so many different dialects and accents. I have gotten much better now decifering what is being said...although still a challenge, especially with some of the older folks. Babby is Baby, bostin is good, gob is mouth...more of this fun can be found on the site I have listed at the end or countless other online sites.

Nigel talked us into a canal boat tour (I am not a fan of damp, dark old places...especially those dripping with age old limestone) and a walk in the mines. I quibble at the darkness, lack of light and air. Imagine those of years ago, working in these places for hours on end. Many of them children. Small crawlspaces by candlelight, if lucky. Minimal air circulation, dangerous conditions, the stuff nightmares are made of... in my book.
The canals all man-made....propelled in tunnels by children or men lying on thier backs 'walking' the wall or ceiling. Creepy. All in the name of progress. Interesting to most...disturbing to myself. Looking around the place, thankful for the time and age that I live in. What we take for granted.

Considering the size of this country, the events and inventions that have occured here are quite staggering really. The creation of the steam engine included. Ingenious lot these Brits.
After stopping at the pub for a pint of ale and chippy for a bit of chips (no vinegar or crackling for me thanks...crackling being deep fried pork fat or breading bits....cholesterol be damned....) we venture to the garage to see the vehicles of an earlier time. Firetrucks, motorcycles, cars. I like that bit best I think. Being a bit of a motormonger as I am.
We end the day ambling through the museum. All of the Black Country history on walls and behind glass cases. The who's who and where's where. I fancied the blurb about Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin and Judas Priest....no surprise there.

The day and the company was very enjoyable and fascinating. Good weather, good company and good history can only make for a perfect day.

http://www.sedgleymanor.com/dictionaries/dialect.html

Stokeday Castle/Manor House and Long Mynd

Another balloon trip cancelled....windy. Doesn't seem windy to me....sunny day, gorgeous. Drat! We are now in Shropshire county near Ludlow....about 1 1/2 to 2 hours from where we live. Mind you..this might annoy some people...but I LOVE Shropshire county. I feel it is the most stunning county in all of England. Rolling hills...lovely little villages....peaceful. My husband is a clever man...he always finds a little quiet area where we can enjoy the English countryside without the MASS amounts of people. I love him for that.

We stopped in the sleepy little village of Cleobury Mortimer for sandwiches and killer bakery. Down to the pub for a pint in the sunny beer garden. Clean, peaceful, quaint shops...I could live there. Yet, I say that about most villages that are not Birmingham.

This day it would be a drive to Stokesay Castle and Manor House. By the time we arrived, the castle (tourist trap) was closing. No bother to us....the grounds were fun and interesting. Church and cemetary nearby...what more would I want? How about a flowery country road with a pond full of swans and a cat to accompany us that just wandered by....perfect. Plus, anywhere that's located in a place called Craven Arms has to be impressive...at least I think so.Stokesay Castle dates back to the 13th century....full history and some great shots can be found here: http://www.castlewales.com/stokesay.html Near the site is a nice little country road complete with ponds, flowers and livestock. Difficult to go to the countryside and not encounter sheep. We even had the pleasure of seeing a small kid (goat)frolicking in the field...too cute. The road led to a nice trial uphill overlooking the area. We even spied several small bunnies crossing the trail to avoid us. I had more than a healthy dose of small cute fuzzies that day...I couldn't complain.
The day didn't end there. We drove over near Shrewsbury to Long Mynd. More than I could detail is elaborated upon on WIKI: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Long_Mynd It was nearing sunset as we arrived and it was gorgeous! Matt is not one who favors heights in any fashion. I, am not troubled by them, and felt at ease and relaxed. He relaxed after a bit. It is almost an alien landscape compared to most of England that I have seen. It could resemble areas of eastern Montana...desolate and open. Impressive indeed.

On the way home, in the village of Rushbury were the largest display of scarecrows I have ever seen. In front of every home, on every street corner. Apparently a Flower Festival that weekend. A bit surreal...like going from Montana to the cornfields of Iowa. Never a dull moment.

Happiness is a warm gun...

Last year for a birthday gift, I decided to give Matt a Clay Pigeon shoot outing for his birthday. Matt had never shot a gun before that time. Now remember, this IS England. Guns are quite a rare site. This has it's benefits. Although the police force may beg to differ.
The day, after all this time, was finally a do. (Not like the balloon ride that I have had cancelled 5 times in the last year....oh well....) This was to take place near Essex, a bit East of London. Hours of driving and trying to find it's whereabouts...(only 15 minutes late....not bad for us...) We arrived. A small wooded area that appeared to be out in the back 40. A bit of a clearing in the woods.

No time for the instruction, briefing or any details. Get your bullets, wait your turn. I guess for me, it worked out to my advantage.....sick puppy that I am. No warning of the 'nice' little kick that a shotgun can provide. I'm sure the wide-eyed look I couldn't see was well worth it. *snicker* (I know....) Been there...

There were 2 instructors, one middle aged man and an older chap. Both excellent cheerleader in their own right. "Well done!" "Cracking shot!" "Brilliant!" Each shooter gets one or two boxes of bullets and a turn when someone else has had theirs. Roughly about 6 people in all waiting. Bright red-orange earphones all around. I forget how loud those things are. Maybe I'm just getting old...

I wondered about the set up....in between the trees...like being in a tree tunnel. Perhaps it was more intentional....shoot before it falls beneath the treetops, avoid the little creature or passerbys out for the daily stroll.

Matt really seemed to enjoy himself. The initial apprehension surpassed by that lovely adrenelin rush. Great stuff. He reported how it almost seems automatic after time. Just point up that way and when the object flies into view, just shoot it into clay crumbs. I noticed the instructors occasionally just give the shooter's gun just a little nudge and a perfect shot every time. Any of you that are avid shootists may know the secret of this. I know I would likely not be too thrilled that someone was interfering with my shots...but I'm stubborn that way.

As most good things, time went by far too quickly, and soon all 60 shots had been taken. At least Matt enjoyed himself...not the bruising that was to follow in the days to come...but sometimes the adventuresome must pay a little....

Sorry honey....I shouldn't have snickered....

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...