..... I put plans into place for this....
Here are my lovely renewed passport and my TICKETS to bring me north, far, far north. My European friends, take note, I'm coming to a place near YOU. At the end of August I jet out to catch up with lovely friends. First a short stop in Denmark - a first for me and I'm rather looking forward to it. I'll be staying with Kathrine (our scout daughter we hosted last year) and her family, on the mainland of Denmark. Then I jump back on a plane and flap my way to the UK where I'll spend the larger portion of my trip in Northern Yorkshire with Liz. We may do a zippy trip down south to Oxon to visit Liz's dear Aunt - whatever happens I'll be giddy with excitement, while also feeling a deep sense of peace and homecoming that always washes over me when I step foot in the UK.
Green, green grass. Lush, thickly leaved trees with stout and solid trunks. Dry stone walls. The standing stones. The history. The crisp cool that is always a shock to my subtropical little bones. The softness of the colours (I NEVER understood watercolours until I first saw Cumbria. Aha. I finally get it.) Lorry's instead of trucks. Rain. Manor houses. Gardens full of delicate flowers that would never survive in my wild tangle of tropical jungle. Tea rooms -ooh, I hope we go to Betty's. Such a treat. Black pudding. Yorkshire puddings.... This will be my fifth trip - I think. I won't say that I can't wait as that means that I'll have a shorter time to savour this whole experience. My stay is always too short yet each time I absorb a little more into my bones and heart and they pine, far away here in the heat on the other side of the world until, yet again....a red book of tickets and a passport bring me 'home'. Hmmm made myself weepy.
Green, green grass. Lush, thickly leaved trees with stout and solid trunks. Dry stone walls. The standing stones. The history. The crisp cool that is always a shock to my subtropical little bones. The softness of the colours (I NEVER understood watercolours until I first saw Cumbria. Aha. I finally get it.) Lorry's instead of trucks. Rain. Manor houses. Gardens full of delicate flowers that would never survive in my wild tangle of tropical jungle. Tea rooms -ooh, I hope we go to Betty's. Such a treat. Black pudding. Yorkshire puddings.... This will be my fifth trip - I think. I won't say that I can't wait as that means that I'll have a shorter time to savour this whole experience. My stay is always too short yet each time I absorb a little more into my bones and heart and they pine, far away here in the heat on the other side of the world until, yet again....a red book of tickets and a passport bring me 'home'. Hmmm made myself weepy.
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