Painswick Hookie

On Wednesday (1/28/09), Rachelle and I dropped off the kids at school and picked up Karen Monks (one of the New Americans). The three of us headed off to Painswick, a small Cotswold village that challenges Bibury for the prettiest village in England.

Our first stop in Painswick was the 18th century Rococo Gardens, where we wandered a hedge maze and imagined how beautiful the grounds must be in the spring. We then walked around St. Mary's church, which has 99 yew trees that look like they could have inspired Dr. Seuss. We had lunch in front of a big fire at a charming and cozy pub dating back to the 1500s. I rested my ankle in the pub and worked on my laptop while Rachelle and Karen went for a walk recommended by the pub owner. Rachelle and Karen said it was a beautiful walk through the hills, but my quiet time in the warm pub was precious too.

Bumps and Bruises

Liv and I dabbled in the U.K. health care system this weekend. To avoid worrying the grandparents, let it be known that everyone is safe, relatively healthy, and happy. Here is the story:

Liv's Forehead

On Sunday night, Liv came bopping down the stairs and took a sharp right turn into our family room. Unfortunately, she took the right too sharply and banged into the too sharp door frame. I heard the slam, yell, and came running. She had a straight, vertical, 1 inch gash in her forehead. I grabbed the bag of ice that was on my ankle (story to follow) and held it to her forehead as Rachelle called the neighbors for the postcode to the local emergency room. Within minutes Emily was guiding us to the hospital. Our brave trooper was fretting about going to the hospital in her PJ's and about how bored she would be if she had to miss school on Monday, but, other than that, she was in good spirits. Noah distracted her with various invented stories she could share at school about how she cut herself.

Although the ER was packed with people (I think there was a whole football team there), the open-wound-head-injury-child combination allowed us to skip right in to the physician. The physician verified that there were no issues regarding a head injury (she was alert, did not black out, etc.) and we debated about how to best patch up Liv with the least chance of scarring. It was determined that glue was the best solution, so Liv was super-glued back together and given the green light to go to school and skip bathing for a few days - Liv was quite pleased about both of these recommendations.

Family and friends, once she was glued back together, there is only a small red scratch-like line starting at her eyebrow and going up about an inch. You'll have to imagine cute Liv with a small forehead cut, because, despite my pleading, she has refused to let me take a clear picture for the blog. However, I did sneak this picture of her snuggling with her mum.

Lindsey's Ankle

I really shouldn't post these two segments together because Liv's is a story of bravery whereas mine is of stupidity. They did happen over the same weekend, so here it goes.

A friend of mine needed an extra player for a 7-aside soccer match on Wednesday evening, so I joined in and had a good game. The next day I received an email from someone who said that they heard my name and wondered if I could join their Social Sciences team against Maths (that is not a typo. It is called Maths) on Friday at the University. Despite having gone on serious runs Monday and Tuesday, played soccer Wednesday night, and then had a hard soccer training Thursday evening, I agreed (stupid decision 1).

At training on Thursday, a friend told me to be careful playing intramural soccer because there are some low-skill hacks. I decided to play anyway (stupid decision 2). So, Friday was a hack fest. You would be surprised how rought Maths students and professors can be! By the end of the game, I was bruised up. I woke Saturday morning with a swollen and sore ankle.

Sunday was a big Belvedere cup match against the number 1 team in Division 1. Rachelle suggested I skip the game because of my sore ankle. I decided to to take some ibuprofen and play (stupid decisions 3 and 4).

So, even I have no sympathy for me as I sit here with a bag of ice on my cankle (the condition where your ankle and calf are indistinguishable; rudely applied to Hillary Clinton by her detractors) knowing that I will have to avoid sports for a week or two.

Although Liv might be a little dirtier than usual and I might be sporting a cankle or even a thankle, we continue to enjoy ourselves here in Bath.

Rachelle and the Ramblers on Tour

On Tuesday, I (Rachelle) joined some Rambler friends for a tour of "Legal London". I hopped aboard a touring bus with 40 white-haired tourists and traveled to the Royal Halls of Justice (see picture with gates). Our guide was a former solicitor (lawyer), who was very knowledgeable about all things legal. I now know the difference between a solicitor and barrister (a solicitor dispenses general legal advice and prepares things like contracts and wills while a barrister is in the courtroom)and was able to see actual court cases in action.

Yes, the barristers and judges still wear those silly white wigs, although our guide said that this is likely to change for civil cases, but not criminal. There seems to be lots of complicated tradition surrounding law in the UK. For instance, there are 4 "inns" that barristers belong to. They have actual halls where barristers meet and are required to share at least 12 meals with their colleagues.

We stopped for lunch at a pub, which was famous for its location between Sweeney Todd's barbershop and his mistress's pie shop (see Ramblers at pub). Tunnels connecting the two ran right under the pub, allowing Sweeney to supply his mistress with fresh meat (human meat) for her pies. I refused the pies and dish called "faggots" given this information.
We also stopped in the Temple Church, those of you who read the Da Vinci Code might remember it. I loved the sculptures of faces of those in Purgatory (see picture).

All in all, it was an interesting day.

Rachelle's Birthday, Teasing, and The New Americans

Rachelle's Birthday

Rachelle's first birthday in England was nice. She received presents from overseas, sweet cards and gifts from her kids, and perfume from her hubby. That evening, Kevin, Janet, and Kaidyn joined us for a fun birthday dinner, cake, and singing. Her bigger present is to spend the night in Wales with me and rock out to the Airborne Toxic Event at the Bar Fly in Cardiff on Sunday, February 1. The dynamic duo will sleep over with Kevin, Janet, and Kaidyn and Rachelle and I will take a train to Wales, slumber at a B&B, dance the night away, explore Cardiff, and then take a train back in time to gather our kids. Details to follow!

Teasing and The New Americans

A few months ago, I corresponded with Jim, a professor from Virginia who would be moving to Bath with his family for a brief sabbatical from January until May. Well, toward the end of December, Noah came home with his head low. His friends had somehow heard that a new 10-year-old American girl would be joining the school in January. Of course, all of the little Brit boys joked and teased Noah about his "new girlfriend".

Fast-forward to the present. Jim, Karen, and their two daughter, Katie (13) and Tess (10) arrived in January and Tess attends St. Stephens. Although she is not in Noah's class, his dear friends still joke with him and occasionally try to push Noah into Tess when they happen to be near one another. Noah does not see the humor in this situation.

On Sunday, we had the new Americans over for dinner and they are delightful. Really great. Surprise, surprise. Neither Noah nor Tess really talked the whole evening (I do not know if she is receiving similar kidding). Well, as it always does, the conversation rolled over to soccer. Jim mentioned that he would be interested in joining me at training as he has played some soccer. Gulp. Okay. I could just envision the teasing I would endure from my teammates, "Aw, you brought out a real player there Lindsey! You Americans should stick to throwing the football not kicking it."

Thursday night rolled around and I gave Jim a ride to practice. The guys were very curious that a new player was coming, and, since he was American, they assumed we knew each other. There were some whispers and smirks shared among the Brits and I broke an early sweat.

Drum roll. Jim rocks. He is a great player. He played in college and I would guess toyed with the idea of going pro in his younger years. He burned me for a couple of goals. At the end of practice, I walked around telling everyone, "Of course he is good. He is American! We are all great soccer players."

So, I skirted some jabs. I'll keep you updated on how Noah endures his plight.

Cold and Frosty

We started the new year by house/dog-sitting for Kevin, Janet, and Kaidyn, who had gone to Holland to visit friends. Liv enjoyed laying on top of the two large dogs and it was fun to live like gypsies for a week. I was disappointed to find that the grocery stores did not carry collard greens, which - as all good Southerns know - should be eaten on January 1. I did find black-eyed peas, and all of us had at least 1 pea, so we will have good luck for 2009. That is nice.

The weather has been hovering right around freezing, which with the wetness in the air, leaves frost trimming the trees, bushes, and grass. It is somewhat of a winter wonderland, especially before the college students returned to campus. See the picture of Liv just behind our cottage.

On Friday, Rachelle and I dropped off the kids and headed to Castle Combe for lunch and a hike. It was cold but gorgeous out, and our hike along a river and through the forest was great. We did manage to get lost once, but a fellow hiker pointed us back to the trail. We lunched at the Castle Inn, a gorgeous stone inn that dates back to the 12th century. See the pictures of a tree, Castle Combe village, and Rachelle in the pub.

Krish, a Latvian family friend who is attending a boarding prep high school nearby came to dinner on Saturday. Krish is a very mature 17-year-old and delighted us with stories about Latvia, England, his travels, and his mom, who was instrumental in Latvia gaining independence.

Today, Sunday, January 11, was a relaxing day for Liv and me who snuggled in bed reading until noon (my football match was canceled because the field was frozen). Rachelle is hiking with the Ramblers and Noah is at a friend's following a slumber birthday party.

Shirley and George Visit the UK, Part II

We headed out in our 7-seater for Exmoor National Park in Devon on the Southwestern coast of England. No one liked being the solo rider in the way back, so we rotated that spot amongst the non-drivers (everyone except me). After a couple of hours, a billion roundabouts, and some dramatic views along the cliff-hugging road, we arrived at our destination: Lynton. Lynton is a village that sits on the cliff overlooking the beach village, Lynmouth. There is a steep road, a very steep walking path, or an extremely steep train car (http://www.cliffrailwaylynton.co.uk/indexb.html) that shuttles people between the sister villages.

Our B&B was a wonderful Victorian home managed by a nice couple and their 9-year-old daughter. Shirley and George were kind enough to let Rachelle and me have our own room and they took the 4-bed suite with Noah and Liv. Using our B&B hosts and the numerous hiking books (Lynton and Lynmouth are called the walking/hiking capital of the Exmoor National Park), we set off for a walk on the coastal path. It was truly breathtaking, especially for those afraid of heights (like George). The path looked out over the rocks and ocean far below (see video), and we saw many wild goats clinging to the steep terrain. After a couple of hours, the path wound us back to a pub, where we joined other hikers for some food. We then finished the walk back at our B&B. That night we walked to a local and festive pub for dinner.



The next day, Rachelle selected the hike, which was to the highest peak in the area in the middle of the desolate moors. As we got out of the car, she showed me the description of the hike, which began, "This hike should be done on a hot summer day." Now, I will admit that it was fun; however, I would also state that the inverse of the statement might be true too - "This hike should be avoided on a frigid winter day." (see the picture of Rachelle and Noah huddled together) That said, Noah and Liv loved sliding on and cracking the ice with their shoes. Of course, when Liv broke some ice and buried her food in thick mud, we were less than thrilled. We abandoned those shoes and put her in some Wellies (rubber boots). After warming up at a pub for lunch, we did a nice walk along a river and in the woods near Lynmouth. That evening after dinner at an old smugglers' pub, Shirley and George put the kids to bed and let Rachelle and me loose for the evening. We walked down the steep path to Lynmouth and around the town and back up the path. This was fun and also great exercise because the path is probably a mile and you almost need a rope it is so steep.

Day 3 was another blue sky but cold day (hovering right around freezing). Rachelle and I had selected a hike described as "one you must do before you die" and "the number 1 best hike in the region." The 6-mile loop was incredible. The hike took us along ridges in mountains, along a river, through the woods, past a waterfall, and along the rocks on high jaggedy cliffs overlooking the sea. We saw wild goats, deer, and very few people. It was awesome.

We all voted to stay another night and had dinner at a different pub that evening. The following morning, Rachelle and I slipped out to do a quick final hike while the others had a leisurely breakfast. We left Lynton and Lynmouth before noon and decided to lunch in Glastonbury, a spiritual/hippie center and the alleged burial place of King Arthur and Guinevere. Our first stop was at the Tor, a tower on a hill, which is supposedly home to Gwyn ap Nudd, King of the Fairies. There are other myths surrounding the Tor, and people have made pilgrimages to it for centuries (http://www.glastonburytor.org.uk/). See the picture of Rachelle and Shirley near the top of the hill. We walked up the hill and back down, only then noticing that George was not with us. I was sent back up to find him, but came back empty handed. He had taken the wrong path down and had to hike around the base to find us. We headed into Glastonbury for lunch, and the town lived up to its spiritual-center reputation with every third shop selling either crystals, incense, or tobacco-water pipes. See the picture of Rachelle and kiddies by a crystal shop. We had a great lunch at a vegetarian restaurant and then wandered the town.

We headed to Bath for some badminton and relaxing. Early the next morning I took mom and George to the train station and said farewell. It was a great visit for all.