The Events of Thursday, May 5, 2011

 

                It is always fun to be the first one up and I just happened to be in a fun mood when I woke up this morning. I snuck downstairs, tiptoeing around the creaky parts in the wooden stairs. As quietly as I could, I opened the door into the downstairs coat closet and walked inside. I fumbled in the dim early morning light for a doorknob leading to the bathroom and put in my contacts (Ha-ha! You thought I was going to do something naughty! But, the only way into the downstairs bathroom is through the coat closet). As I exited, I found that I wasn’t the first one up. But, that didn’t alter my fun mood, so I cheerily wished Daddy a good morning. He whispered back, “Feliz Cinco de Mayo!” Our laundry was hanging in the doorways for some last minute drying, so I ducked under some pants into the dining room. And there was Mommy, working on the computer! That was a bit of a blow to the fun of supposedly being first up. Mom turned and said, “Oh good, you’re up. Why don’t you be first in the shower.” Good morning to you, too.

                The shower in our cottage here in Chipping Campden, England is a little different. You push the power button until it lights up and while you’re doing that, cold water is spurting in your face. If you’re like me, you yelp and jump back, but this being a half-butt shower, there’s no place to jump. So, you have to wait there in the cold until it warms up and then you can enjoy a nice refreshing shower.

                By the time I was out of the shower, the rest of my family was up and hoppin’. We sat down for our last meal in this wonderful cottage and after I asked God to bless our meal (as it is my day to pray on Thursdays), we dug into a breakfast of cereal, tea (for me), hot chocolate (for Mommy), and toast with jam. Why do we have toast? Because there is a toaster. After our meal, we gathered in the living room, where I read from our Christian History devotional book and we had our family prayer time. A while after we had finished, the doorbell rang. Our host, Mr. David Birch had come to say “Cheerio!” After thanking him for his hospitality and lovely home, we each headed to our own corners of the house and within an hour, were packed up and ready to go. Mom opened up the little wooden gate to the driveway and then ushered Daddy out onto Blind Lane, which actually has blind curves! Then, we were off.

                On our drive, the latest tittle-tattle was our course selection for classes next year. We recently received e-mails (from the Herscowitzes, the lovely family living in our house) that had our courses for next year. Onward drove Destiny (our car), past the fields of mustard and lush green valleys scattered with sheep (or rocks?). Mommy changed our GPS’s voice from deep, soothing American Richard to irresistible, prim and proper British Tim. I went so crazy over his voice that Daddy and Mommy started discussing how I couldn’t study abroad in the UK, since I might fall for a British bloke, just because of his accent. Various activities filled our drive, and, as Daddy drove on the LEFT-hand side of the road (with Mom occasionally reminding him to “stay left”), we read, listened to music, and caught up on blogs and pictures. By the time we reached Birmingham, the back seat was buzzing with activity so much that, had our stop been any other, we would have gladly stayed in the car. However, as it was, after more than two months without any connection to the USA, we all bounced with excitement as our GPS, Tim, calmly informed us that we had “reached our destination.”

                There it was. Beautifully familiar, Costco loomed in front of us. The same lettering, the same warehouse look – we jumped out of the car before the car was parked. Okay, slight exaggeration. My parents would never let us do that, but our hearts were already inside – COSTCO! Daddy and Mommy dusted off their long-forgotten American Express cards and showed them at the entrance. A table full of muffins, croissants, juice, and coffee awaited us as a way of Costco thanking its customers. (Costco used to do that in the US, but has sadly stopped). Oh, it was like a sweet bite of home. But sadly, the bite had a few bitter spots. The Costco was a little smaller than the ones at home and differently arranged. There was no potato salad, no familiar cereals, none of the readymade meals or even cheeses and meats we were accustomed to. The food court even had different items. But, Costco is Costco. So we shopped and then after going through checkout, ordered and enjoyed a lunch at the food court.

                “Oh, I am so full!” Caitlin groaned. Her half-eaten, tuna-filled Jacket Potato was next to my own half-eaten, beef chili-filled Jacket Potato. I feel your pain, Caitlin. Daddy was just finishing off his coleslaw filled Jacket Potato, but he looked really full. Ben, with his empty leg, had successfully finished his beef chili-filled Jacket Potato and was now eating the rest of Caitlin’s. Mommy and Abby just barely finished their shared hot dog and cheese-filled Jacket Potato. But, you just can’t eat at Costco without getting dessert, even though they didn’t have the chocolate-covered ice cream bars. Sniff! So, Daddy and I shared a berry sundae, Mommy enjoyed her own chocolate and vanilla swirl, Ben had bites of Mom’s dessert (the empty leg is not so empty, eh?), Abby ordered a fruit smoothie, and Caitlin sat there groaning.

                Loading up the car was a bit of a challenge. Our trunk already had one seat, six small suitcases, two large suitcases, a cooler, and a bag of dry foods in it. Now, we were trying to stuff our booty from Costco into this already packed car. Eventually, however, we managed to fit everything, with the exception of my chili-filled Jacket Potato leftovers. Oh, well. We drove out of Birmingham and back into the green fields of southern England.

                About two hours later, we stopped at a rest stop for a restroom break. The signs pointing to the restroom had those stick figures, both male and female, holding themselves like they really had to go. England does have a sense of humor. The toilets had no seats, which we are getting used to, but the cool part of this bathroom was the washing station. You put your hands into a dark hole and pushed the button that said ‘water.’ Water would gush out of nowhere onto your hands. Then, you pushed a button that said ‘soap.’ Soap would squirt on your hands. After you had rinsed your hands again, you pushed the button that said ‘air.’ Within a minute, your hands were dry and you could be on your way. I am a girl of simple pleasures. As we drove on, Mom excitedly yelled, “Look guys, cows!” Now, that doesn’t sound that interesting, but then, we obediently looked where she was pointing and stared. On the overpass crisscrossing the highway was a never-ending herd of spotted cows. They filled the entire overpass and there was no human in sight. Weird!

                “Croeso i Gymru!” A sign in Welsh welcomed us into Wales. And I’m not kidding, as soon as we crossed the border, it started to rain. It was just a drizzle, but that drizzle continued until we reached our destination. After we got lost twice, our new home, a large white farmhouse, ‘Tyddyn Isaf’ came into view, hiding behind a green hedge. ‘Tyddyn Isaf’ translated from Welsh into English is ‘lower cottage’. As soon as we pulled into the spot behind the house clearly labeled, PARKING, a man came up to our car and inquired, “Mr. Taylor?” Mr. Jones was a very welcoming man. He and his wife own the farm, house, and surrounding acreage. As we strolled up the walk to view the house, we could hear the sheep on the other side of the road bleating, but we couldn’t see them because of a tall green hedge. The house was large, spacious, and cozy. The last farmhouse we stayed in was in France, and in the beautiful countryside, like this one. Unlike this one, the last farmhouse had uneven, cold stone floors and crowded bedchambers. However, the kitchen in the last farmhouse was much bigger than Tyddyn Isaf’s. Later, we decided that, in France, cooking and eating is more important than sleeping, while, in Wales, it is the opposite.

                We brought in our luggage and booty from Costco and were soon settled. Mommy and I cooked up a dinner of rotisserie chicken (Yeah! – an old Costco standby from the RV portion of our trip), rice (from Spain), and cooked vegetables. It was a truly delicious meal. After dinner, we hopped in Destiny and rode off into the sunset towards Tabernacle Church. On the way, Daddy joked that it must be rush hour, as we had just passed the third car we had seen since entering the town. We found parking (which wasn’t hard) and headed towards the church. Small in size, the church has a circular body made with beautiful stone. But, alas, it was closed. You see, we had heard that in Wales, they love to sing in choirs. It is an important part of their culture to sing. Usually, after a performance or rehearsal, they invite the audience to join them at a nearby pub. Then, after they are good and merry from all the food and drink, they all sing again, this time, inviting the audience to join in, and it is a wholesome and jolly experience. But, it seemed that they were not having a rehearsal that night, so we instead took a driving tour of Ruthin and headed back to Tyddyn Isaf.

                On the way, Abby saw a soccer, oh pardon, football game going on, so Daddy dropped Mommy, Ben, and me off at the house, and the rest went to watch the game. Here at Tyddyn Isaf, there is a coin-operated electricity meter (crazy, right?), so even though the sun was sinking behind the green hills of Wales, we huddled close to the windows with our books to utilize the natural light as much as possible. But, finally, it was too dark and we had to turn on the lights. We had just turned on the lights, when Abby burst through the front door, yelling, “I have to go to the bathroom! Caitlin almost got hit in the head with a ball! Ah! I have to go to the bathroom and my shoe won’t come off!” She ran upstairs. Caitlin and Daddy soon came in and we settled in for a relaxed evening. Then, at nine, we all headed to bed, all the kids together in one room, whispering excitedly about our first day in Wales. Nos da fy ffrindiau!