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Monday, December 01, 2008

Missing England

I was sitting in the St. Philip room the other day, casually surrounded by Renaissance splendour, when I found myself suddenly longing for a fry-up in a cafe in Chester. For the sound of Cheshire accents. For an afternoon spent stomping around the fields in my wellies. For a day book shopping on the Chester wall. For crumpets. For a beer in my aunt's kitchen.

...

I'm homesick.

* ~ * ~ *

Things I miss, (not in order of precedence).


Proper manly Norman ruins. (Not these yippity-skip fluted columns and fat baroque flying infants.)


Beeston


Beeston again

The wildflowers:

Cowslips


Lesser Celandine


Wood Anemones


Daffs in March


touch-me-nots

Being at home:

Christmas in my little house.


and with the mad fam.


Uncle Mike on the Pontycyllte aquaduct

Stomping around the country in my wellies:



on the Sandstone ridge


on the Sandstone Trail


more of the trail


from Maiden Castle


pheasants



The village:

The village


St. Alban's


row cottages in the village

Random things:

the deanery of Chester Cathedral


the nicest English nuns in the world


Nice English friends.

The canals:



narrow boats

The Food.

Ohhhhh! bacon and black pudding! Yes, I miss the food. Something fierce!


Oh, how I long for a fry-up!

2 comments:

  1. I've lived abroad (five years in northern Spain) where the fry-up was one of the shibboleths that made me foreign, whatever else went on in my life.

    Chin up. Enjoy the pasta. Black pudding is still available at home, even if that's not where your house (indeed, your life!) happens to be at this time.

    ReplyDelete
  2. what, bored again?

    ReplyDelete

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