The Events of Thursday, June 2, 2011

                I slipped out of bed and tiptoed over to the window. Since Daddy had already opened the blinds to wake me up, I opened the window and let it swing out into the quiet street. Across the street, I could see a little stone frieze embedded into the wall. It was of St. Francis feeding the birds. Oh, how the birds sang this morning. The cool breeze hit my face and woke me up a little more. As I closed the window, I could hear the sheep at the farm down the road bleating softly. The Yorkshire Dales have been so tranquil and soothing. I am really going to miss these lovely hills and the animals and people who live here. With a sigh, I made my way into the dining room to have breakfast with my family.

                The treat of today’s breakfast was the pineapple that we got at the market yesterday. The pineapple had some small brown bruises, but we paid these no mind. Daddy sliced it up into big chunks. Abby, the major pineapple lover of the family, finished hers first. Later, as we were packing up the car, she said, “Mommy, I don’t feel good.” Mom responded with, “Well, then get out of the hot stuffy car!” No sooner had Abby hopped out, she threw up. Obviously, she hadn’t chewed her pineapple well enough. Daddy hosed off the driveway, and, with a wave to our landlord and his son, we headed out through the imposing black iron gates, down the road, and out of our little village of Hanlith.

                After almost dying twice (from “lorries” hogging the road) on the skinny, curvy roads of Yorkshire Dales, we drove onto the smooth, boring motorway (the British freeway). While Daddy and Mommy chatted quietly in the front seat, all of us kids had our quiet prayer and Bible reading times. One by one, as we finished, the laptop, reading books, tour books, iPods, and other activities came out. After about one hour of driving, Mommy instructed us to put our books away and prepare to disembark. We were approaching Leeds, England.

                Gypsy, our GPS, matter-of-factly informed us that we had ‘arrived at our destination’. But as we glanced out the windows, the familiar Costco warehouse look was nowhere in sight. We anxiously craned our necks to see through the luggage-packed windows. Costco was missing! We checked the address and plugged it back into Gypsy, but every time it told us that Costco was right where we were. But it most certainly wasn’t. Finally, Caitlin suggested that we ask someone. So, she and Daddy got out of the car and went into a nearby carpet factory outlet. The friendly clerk informed them, “It is just up this road on your right. You can’t miss it!” Meanwhile, back in the car, the rest of us were trying to figure out if there was another Costco nearby. We had no success, and therefore, we were all extremely excited when Daddy and Caitlin came back and told us the good news. Just a minute more of driving and we would have found it anyway. (I must say that I felt somewhat silly).

                Once we had parked, Daddy grabbed a cart, and we started shopping. So many familiar goods and sights, this Costco was organized almost exactly the same way as the one in Elk Grove! After another delicious lunch at the food court, we shoved our Costco booty into the already crammed back and continued on our way. We drove and drove and drove. Oh, and then we drove some more. About two hours later, we made another stop at a shopping center and utilized their restrooms. After stretching, we switched seats and headed back onto the motorway. After another two hours of driving and driving and driving, Mommy again instructed that we put away our activities and prepare to disembark. We were approaching North London.

                “Destiny” crawled slowly forward in the dense traffic. (That sounds funny, doesn’t it?) When Gypsy announced that our exit was coming up, we all woke up and began to look around. We had been passing construction site after construction site. Daddy thinks that they are preparing for the 2012 London Olympics. We passed under the Thames River through a dark tunnel. When we popped back up again, we were in the neighborhood of Bermondsey. We were definitely in a residential area. People were walking their dogs and sitting on benches reading newspapers. When Gypsy announced that we had arrived at our destination, Daddy and Caitlin got out and explored the area until they found our house.

                Our house was number seventeen on Toussaint Walk. Behind a short wooden gate, the door was concealed by towering bushes, whose leaves reached into the walkway. The door had some pretty stain glass on it. We found the key and soon were inside. After we brought in all our luggage, Daddy left with the car to find a safe legal parking spot while the rest of us explored our new domicile. The house was quite hot, outside it was the hottest it had been since Spain … 74⁰F. So, we opened up the windows as we went exploring.

                On the ground floor there was a small bathroom and the kitchen, with adequate appliances and an elevated dining room table with bar stools. The living room was airy and spacious with fresh flowers in vases decorating the coffee table. On the second floor there was a bathroom and two bedrooms. One of the bedrooms had two single beds and the other had two bunk beds. The third and final floor consisted of three single beds.

                Mommy set up a “linner” (lunch for dinner) of PB&J sandwiches, fruit, vegetables, and cookies. We enjoyed our meal on the elevated table and bar stools (which really hurt my parents’ backs). In preparation for tomorrow’s early departure, Caitlin set out breakfast supplies and the rest of us packed a picnic lunch and downloaded podcasts on our iPods. With the bells of St. James Church slowly tolling the hour, we headed to bed to dream of London.