On Christmas morning I got up really early and planted 12 Shi-Shi Gashira sasanquas under the pindo palms near our pond. I was running around in the sparkling dew, petting Maggie and Babs in between plantings and wishing them a merry Christmas. Greg was sitting …
Christmas Eve was so exciting–because it was the beginning of everything, the beginning of all the fun, the beginning of all my days off, my sweet, precious vacation. I spent the morning happily cleaning up cat throw up. Kris and I met at Mom’s house …
I never finished telling you about our trip to England. So here it is, my last installment, and the topic is Shrewsbury, a wonderful little Tudor town full of topsy-turvy timber-framed buildings, some black-and-white striped, some yellow-and-white striped. We were there on Thanksgiving, a frigid, windy day, and I was wearing a terrible outfit (jeans under a skirt) just to try to keep warm.
First we stopped at Shrewsbury Castle—a red sandstone dream. There was a tower with leaded windows, and wisteria was trained against a wall around a heavy, studded door. The castle was red and made even redder by the setting sun. We took pictures and walked around the lush rhododendron gardens, saying, “Neat!” over and over again. I’d seen the place before, you know, long ago, in The Tasha Tudor Book of Fairytales.
I was feeling really worn out and sad in Shrewsbury, and a lot of times that day I was secretly crying, wiping my eyes covertly, averting my face. I cried when we came upon the ruins of Old St. Chad’s, a church that had “spectacularly collapsed” (our guidebook said) in the 1700s. Only the Lady Chapel remained—red sandstone and quite small, surrounded by flat, mossy gravestones that were slowly sinking into the boggy ground. There were signs showing engravings of the church before its collapse and in the state of collapse. And the collapse struck me as so tragic that I stood there crying again. And Rob said, exasperated, “It happened 300 years ago! Why are you crying?”
I cried in the gardens around Shrewsbury Abbey, too. They were so beautiful. There were azaleas and huge clumps of rhododendron. Fragments of old buildings added decoration to the beds. There were stone flowers and chunks of old columns, a stone arm and an angel wing. We strolled in the freezing semi-darkness along the River Teme, and then we sat and admired a grand old stone bridge. And I guess I was sad because modern people no longer include stone angels and flowers on their buildings. Because beauty is given so little consideration. Because American cities are so ugly—barren moonscapes, with so many parking lots.
On Saturday Kris and Sophie had a Christmas crafting party. It was a freezing, gloomy, dark day, so it was so nice to spend it inside Kris’s warm, cozy house, which was all decorated with lush garlands and wreaths and a big sparkly Christmas tree.
Here’s another old journal entry I’d like to share: Saturday, July 25, 2005 On Saturday Kris, Sophie, and Jake met Rob and me at Native Nurseries. It was a surprise; Rob and I hadn’t expected them at all. Sophie was so excited to …
I was looking through my old journals yesterday once again and I came across this funny old memory of Sophie and Jake when they were practically babies (four and one). Those two have always been my favorite comedy duo. Even when they were still in diapers.
Friday, July 8, 2005
Tonight Mom, Kris, Bun, Jake, Sophie, and I went out to eat at the American Café in Governor’s Square Mall. Jake was so funny. At first he sat in his highchair very nicely and sucked his thumb and we talked about how he was probably going to be left-handed because he sucks his left thumb. I tried to get him to color on his placemat. And he did—but with his right hand and without looking at what he was doing. (He didn’t stop sucking his thumb.)
Kris said, “That’s better than he usually does. He usually colors to the side. Or maybe behind him. He never looks at what he’s doing.”
Sophie was busy filling out a crossword puzzle on her placemat. She solved all the riddles all by herself—she’s great at riddles. And she wrote in the answers, too, with Bunny telling her how to spell each word. I didn’t know she could write. She was concentrating very hard. She also did a word search with Bunny’s help. Bunny would spell the hidden word and Sophie would find the letters and thereby the word.
When our bread came, Sophie insisted on cutting everyone a slice with the sharp knife. She handled the knife surprisingly well. She also insisted on squeezing out everyone’s ketchup.
Jake started acting up. He kept getting out of his highchair and walking around the restaurant, greeting people. He got his own table. He sat across the restaurant from us, smiling, playing peek-a-boo. “Bunny!” he’d yell. “Bunny!”
“Bunny,” I’d say, “he wants you to play peek-a-boo with him.”
Sophie had given us all a very generous amount of ketchup. She was also very interested in buttering people’s slices of bread. I thought this was funny because she hates butter and ketchup. She’s a very fussy eater.
Kris was rolling her eyes. Jake wouldn’t eat his grilled cheese sandwich. Neither would Sophie. Jake walked out of the restaurant and went toddling about the mall. Kris caught him and he cried. He cried and cried.
“I guess I’ll have to get my salad to go,” Kris said. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
“Goodbye, Jake,” I said cheerfully. “You were terrible!”
He smiled at me as though I’d given him a great compliment.
Kris took Jake home, but she left Sophie with us. Sophie refused to eat her grilled cheese sandwich. There was ketchup everywhere. Everyone had a huge side dish of ketchup, squeezed out by Sophie. And if she saw you were running a little low, she’d squeeze out some more.
Sophie finished up her work on her placemat.
“Let’s go to the toy store,” she said.
“Hold on one second,” we said. “We’ve got to finish eating.”
“I want to go now!” Sophie said, pretending to pout—but her eyes were dancing and she was trying to suppress a mischievous grin.
When we finally did leave to go to the toy store, Sophie led the way. She walked way ahead of us, the queen of the mall. She was smiling back at us and looking very cute and sassy in her little terrycloth shorts.
“Soph! Wait!” Mom said.
Later Bunny confessed, “I was really worried Sophie would get snatched by a stranger! I couldn’t keep up with her!”
“She’s so bad,” I said. “Somebody might snatch her, but then they’d be sorry!”
I’m back to writing about our England trip again. We started our second day in Ludlow with a vegan version of a typical English breakfast–roasted mushrooms and tomatoes, canned baked beans, hash browns, hot tea, and very sour, very delicious local apple juice. The apple …
Mom had a tree-trimming party on Friday night. The usual folks were there—Mom, Kris, Sophie, Jake, Bunny, Matt, and me. I was one of the first to arrive. I came over right after work and the living room was already full of the old, familiar boxes of ornaments.
On Wednesday we took the train to Ludlow, another little town in Shropshire, close to the Welsh border. Ludlow was probably the most beautiful and perfect town we visited in England–because its medieval street plan, castle, and church were all still intact.
