TCK - Going Home all Grown Up

To see the land of my childhood through the eyes of my children

To experience the sights and smells and tastes of my dreams via the senses of my kids

To relive the language and experiences of my growing up with the voice and being of my daughter

To visit long-hidden memories through the actions of my son

Sweet Surreality

There and Back Again

The last two weeks have flown by so quickly, my head is in a whirl trying to catch up again. Or maybe that's the jet lag? Either way, my head is a little whirly.

At this time, two weeks ago, my little family ad I were boarding an airplane to fly to New York - to board another airplane to fly to Seoul, Korea - to board a final airplane to fly to Bangkok, Thailand. At which point, Tuesday night, 11pmish, we were greeted by my parents and whisked away in a car to Hua Hin where we spent the next 10 days enjoying tropical weather, good food, and wonderful company.

Then Saturday the 24th at 12:30am we reversed the whole process, managing to arrive back home by 3pm, still Saturday the 24th. Time is a funny thing.

It was so wonderful being home. And what I find most significant is that it was still home. Which reinforces the idea that home is not a place but a concept. I was able to walk into a house I've never seen before (except in pictures), live in a town I've never lived in before (although I've been there numerous times as a child as we frequently went to that particular town when we were going to the beach), and feel completely as if I had come home.

Granted, much of the furniture of the house was familiar to me (although not all), and the pictures on the walls reflected the childhoods of me and my siblings, and even the silverware and the dishes and yes even a few swim towels are all those I grew up with...and that all helps.

But it's the foods we ate (and the fruit--oh how I have missed Thai fruit--mangoes that melt in your mouth, bananas that have true flavor, som-o, papaya, guava, I must stop raving...), the language that surrounded me, the smells and even the weather that we were blessed with, all of it just felt right. I was finally home.

And now, as I sit here early in the morning, listening to my cottage girls getting ready for school, trying to wake my brain up entirely after a rough night with a little boy who hasn't managed jet lag well at all (its 11pm, let's play!!), and to find my rhythm again, and I find that here, too, I am home. But it is a different home.

It's the home that has been mine in 13 years of marriage; mine through work and tears and adult growth. And the foods are different, the sounds and smells not at all the same, but my home it still is.

And I am satisfied. 

Journal: England Trip 2012 - Part V

The day dawned misty but not soppy wet, which was fortunate as this was the day we were to go on the one hike I knew I was (or should be!) capable of doing. There is a little mountain overlooking Keswick that is called Latrigg.

This particular mountain holds a lot of associations for me. It was the first mountain I ever climbed at about the age of three. My grandparents, both now deceased, frequently climbed this mountain if they just wanted a short evening walk. And the ashes of both grandparents are here on this mountain.

There are two paths up Latrigg. One is from the base, in Keswick. The other, which is the one we opted for given the short climbing legs of Blueberry and the limitations placed on myself by Baby Q, is to start about halfway up the fell, leaving the car at a convenient little parking spot. It makes for about a mile and a half hike up and then back again. Really known as one of the easiest fells to climb up in the Lake District, it still holds beautiful views overlooking Keswick, Derwentwater, and various other mountains including another favorite--Skiddaw.

Despite the low-hanging clouds, we really didn't get rained on, and the clouds obligingly lifted as we climbed, allowing us to enjoy the views, embellished with ever shifting clouds. Overnight, seemingly, some of the trees had started to turn, so we got glimpses of fall color here and there throughout the day as well.

How a person can claim to be an artist of any sort and not respond to the beauty of the Lake District is beyond me. The natural beauty oozes creativity, and even the man-made towns and hamlets and villages and boats call out to be used--to explore mystery and humanity and God. Perhaps it is just that I'm a Romantic at heart, but I fail to see how even the stubbornest post-modern could be unmoved by the sights of the Lake District.

Blueberry did really well climbing up the whole way by herself and only needing to be carried for about the last 5 minutes on the way down. She enjoyed getting to know more sheep and discovered strange, round pellets littering the way that once we were informed her what they were, she pointed out constantly for the rest of the hike as "sheep poopies." We also introduced her to a couple of slugs we happened to find as we climbed.

 Walking up

 Nana and Papa

 We made it!

 Christopher and Blueberry brave the sheep

An obliging pose

 Blueberry and Me

 She's getting good at these camera poses

 Daddy and Blueberry

 Sheep Poopies!

 Taking a break; enjoying the view

 Daring the sheep by herself

"You shall not pass!"

Journal: England Trip 2012 - Part IV

After two days of heavy rain, Wednesday broke bright, light, and beautiful. Which was fortunate as my dad was scheduled to go with The Ramblers on a hike. As this is a more exclusive group, my dad was going as a guest of one of the members (Steve--the same man who owns Primrose Cottage), and it was going to be his big hike of this trip (which he was super excited about). Well, two minutes before he was to leave, his boots broke. Literally, the sole came off the bottom of one of his boots--which if you've ever done any real hiking, you understand this is not an okay thing if you plan on actually successfully taking a long walk. Fortunately, after a few minutes of panicked hunting for super glue, Steve came by and upon realizing the crisis, was able to lend my dad a pair of boots. This alone is a miracle as my father is not a tall man and finding boots in his size is difficult at best--but these were perfect! Thank the Lord for providing miracles.

 Lake Ullswater

My daddy hiking...happiness.

 As the rest of us were not invited on this particular trip (and frankly, speaking only for myself, I at least would not have been able to keep up with Baby Q in tow!), my mum and I did what sensible women do when one husband is out of the way and the other is offering to stay home to babysit--shop! Hit some of the stores we didn't go to the other day, including a gorgeous shop devoted to all things Beatrix Potter (much self-control was demonstrated by me in not buying the shop out; however, I will confess my mother may have helped in that by buying a few things for me!).

The other accomplishment of the day was starting in on some laundry. Which basically involved turning the entire house into a Chinese-laundry with clothes draped over all the radiators throughout the house. I will not lie; I love dryers. I missed my dryer for three weeks. While hanging clothes outside is something I like to do (I like the smell of air-dried clothes) and I appreciate doing for the economical benefits, when one lives in a country which is very damp, having a dryer to finish off the drying process is really helpful! And yet in all the houses we stayed on this trip, only one (and I didn't stay in that one!) had a washer and a dryer. Sigh.

Following naps, we headed out for a play in the park. We first had a mission to accomplish in the way of a side-trip taken near the park. In the small world of ex-patriots, my parents have neighbors in Thailand who have relatives who live in Keswick. In particular, one aunt (great-aunt?) of the wife whom the wife was concerned about as she had broken her hip and the wife was not sure she was fully reporting on how well she was doing (or not). Mum had been asked to deliver a letter and actually check in on this elderly lady to give an accurate report back in Thailand. Well, we finally hunted down the ladies flat (gorgeous views, by the way--I'd retire to a place like that, if just for the views. Mountains out the front door and the river flowing by her windows, looking straight out onto the Keswick park. Beautiful.), and after knocking on the door and explaining who we were, she invited us in for a spot of tea and a chat. Obviously rather lonely and eager for some company, she turned out to be absolutely fascinating. She grew up on a farm which actually had been located right where we were staying. Has a love of dogs (tons of stuffed dogs and pictures of dogs around the apartment--Blueberry was in seventh heaven), and had traveled a lot. Spent some time in the RAF during the war, spent a year or so traveling the entire USA in a car (or rather--several junker cars!).

Blueberry and the doggy collection

Sadly by the time was finished there (with an invitation to stop by a few nights later for sherry and cakes! which we sadly could not do), it was raining again and so the park was never actually visited. The evening we feasted on a very traditional type of English meal--sausage and bacon and potatoes. Yum. The only mar was that Blueberry attempted another food standoff of not swallowing her food. Fortunately this one was much shorter lived (round went to the parents!) and we all had a pleasant evening playing, what else, cards. Specifically the game Hand and Foot (think similar to Canasta but slightly different?) Because that's my family does when we are together in an evening with no specific plans. I will record, because this is an honest journal, and I therefore must record such significant events with all openness, that we played four games while in Keswick and I successfully won four out of four.  However, I was completely trounced later in the trip, so pride really does only take you so far.

 Blueberry and me. Got to love the cow leggings.

 Nana and Blueberry. There is a picture out there somewhere

of me with that exact expression on my face. I think I might

have been a little bit older than Blueberry though.

Blueberry, Doggie, and Papa

Journal: England Trip 2012 - Part III

The problem with visiting an area of lush green beauty is that there has to be some natural reason for the lushness and the greenness. Namely--rain. And if you insist on traveling to that land during the fall, one has to be prepared for rain. Lots of it.

Our third and fourth day in England and the Lake District could best be characterized as wet. Very wet. Floods happened elsewhere in the country, shutting down a major highway for a few days. Remember the lovely river Greta that flows through the town? What I didn't mention earlier is that the banks of that river have been built up with high walls, flood gates, and other such items because of several very bad floods that have caused major destruction in the town (incidentally, including getting my grandparents boated out of their house one very cold winters day because the flood waters had risen so high!).

Well, we didn't quite get that bad. But it would be accurate to say that the water rose a good couple of feet in one day of rain and showed much more ferocious tendencies than it had the day before.

 River Greta on Sunday

 River Greta on Monday afternoon!

So what does one do when one is in England and it rains? Go out in it of course!

Day 3 we climbed in the car and went for a drive over hilltops and past sheep. Originally it was a ploy to find a sheep show that used to exist and then it turned into an attempt to find an animal farm for Blueberry, but eventually it wound up just being a drive through beautiful--if soggy--English countryside as we found neither of the first two options.

We did find the hills streaming with what are known as sour milk gills. They are literally these streams of water that appear when it is raining. And the appearance of them looks rather like a giant has taken a bucket of sour milk and overturned it, sending it sloshing down the mountains.

We stopped near Lake Buttermere to stretch our legs and Blueberry managed to at least be introduced to sheep. One even obligingly baa-ed at her, forever convincing her that sheep really do "baa."

Lake Buttermere

Sheep say "baa"

Following our short and wet excursion, we drove through what is known as Honister Pass through Borrowdale (which incidentally holds the distinction of being the wettest spot in England) to get back to Keswick. Incredibly beautiful views, this area has a mining company that mines beautiful green slate for which the Lakes are also known. My parents also spent their honeymoon in this area of the Lakes and was where my dad first fell in love with this spot in the world (fortunately Mum loves it too; otherwise, there might be quite a competition there!).

Honister Pass - sadly due to the rain, I didn't get many good pictures of this. 

Go to the previous link above for better pictures.

We warmed up from our wet morning with a lunch of fish and chips....ah the glories of Gluten Free in the UK! More about that later!

As the following day dawned wet and soggy again, we decided to brave the shops in the shopping district of Keswick. Spent an enjoyable morning avoiding the rain drops, browsing fun things that I couldn't afford, and picking up some presents and other items that I could. 

As the day progressed, the rain slowed, the sun finally began to make a weak appearance, and the river Greta began to recede. We made our way down to lake Derwentwater to enjoy a, well, I'd call it a sunset but to have a sunset one has to have more sun. So perhaps just to enjoy the growing twilight.

A hint of fall. Sadly the trees had not really begun turning colors yet, but we did see tantalizing bits of color here and there.

 Gates and doors...I find them fascinating. And why do so few American houses have names while so many European ones do?

  

 Derwentwater - at the water's edge
Incidentally, I have discovered that Derwentwater apparently means "water thick with oaks." I don't know if they are oaks or not, but it could certainly could be called "water thick with trees."

My Mum and Dad, or for the Dicken's fan, my APs.
 

Me, Blueberry, and Nana

All wrapped up for the cold, wet day. 

Blueberry styling with her ladybug (ladybird) raincoat and panda bear hat underneath.

Part IV

Journal: England Trip 2012 - Part II

Day 2, Sunday morning, dawned bright and clear and chilly--but NOT raining (very important!). Sadly, Nana woke up not feeling well, so she stayed in bed while the rest of us got ready for a church service at King's Church. Blueberry decided that the amount of rough and tumble boys going to the children's service was a little much for her, so she stayed in the main service with us--and wound up taking a nap on mommy's lap instead.

Blueberry charming the world in her tweeds. 

In the afternoon, Christopher decided to brave the heights of the Lake District and went on a gentle (ha ha) seven mile hike up Walla Crag with my dad and Steve. Blueberry and I stayed home and had an hour long battle of her refusing to swallow her food (really?!) eventually followed (battle was a draw) by a walk downtown Keswick. The number of beautiful dogs of every breed imaginable in Keswick is extraordinary, and thanks to Blueberry's incredible powers of observation, we did not miss seeing one of them if they were within half a mile of us. 

Our night was punctuated by Christopher and I both having bad jet lag and finding ourselves awake at 2am, unable to sleep (8pm US time). Watched an interesting show on some musically talented kids who have Tourette syndrome. Still would rather have been sleeping!

 Left: Steve, owner of Primrose Cottage, former fell runner turned fell walker when his knees gave out. Definition of fell runner: one who literally runs up the mountains (fells) of the Lake District rather than hiking up them as most sensible (read: "less fit") people do. Right: My daddy, in his favorite place in the whole world--on top of a Lake District fell.

 Keswick is located on the banks of lake Derwentwater.

 Keswick from the top of Walla Crag.

 Walla Crag as seen from Ashness Bridge.

 Ashness Bridge

 Derwentwater

Part III coming soon.