Travel / Travails.
A letter to my husband.
I'm great.
Feeling wonderful and you will love this place when you come back with me
some day. I'm writing down details in my journal so I don't forget and
will tell you all about it over a bottle of wine in our little mountain cabin
later this summer. I slept for hours and hours last night and this
morning. It's 4:08 pm here while it's 8:08 am back home. The room is quiet,
bright, it’s all done in white, and smells of fresh air and roses. The back wall is floor to ceiling windows
that look out over a deep lawn with flower and vegetable gardens. My roommate
is very quiet and often goes to the coffee shop to write, so I was tempted to
stay in bed all day; however, I forced myself to get up a few hours ago so that
I would adjust my inner time clock.
It's cool and bright
and breezy. Green, green, green. Everything is built of brick. Flowers
and fat furry bumblebees. Big white clouds. Tiny shops. The
Great White Lion is perfect! Had fish and chips last night.
Fantastic! Also salad, melted cheese, and fried cauliflower!
Made the decision to
take the Iphone with me to Europe, not so much for the phone but for the
camera. I was worried about roaming
charges or whatever goes on with extra charges when you leave the country, so I
didn’t really plan to use it to call home, just for emergencies. Well, the phone never made it to London, or,
I should say, it did, but not with me…
The phone must have
been stolen because my fellow plane passengers saw me make the “I’m off” call
to you when I got on the plane. Then later I went to double check that I
had turned it off properly and it was gone. The crew took the plane apart
and my bags looking for it before I left the airport. They were so, so
sweet. I love the English! You would love them, too--so polite and
sweet and they all look just as you'd expect in their little hats and jackets
and such. Anyway, I left our home address and this East Finchley address
with them at the airport in case the phone does turn up. I cried because
they were all so concerned for me, which teared them up a bit as well, and they
walked me to my baggage claim and kissed me on the cheek before saying goodbye. I highly commend the Virgin Atlantic flight
crew! Lovely people.
So, now I'm over that
and don't care except that now I have no camera. This is bothering me
already. There are so many wonderful sights. Guess what? The
Great White Lion has a sign out front that it has its own Secret Garden, which
it does. The Secret Garden is forever popping up in my life, and it’s always
magical. First, my favorite children’s
book, then the garden we began after the devastating bark beetle infestation
that killed so many of our beautiful pines, then the musical play – and now
here in London, right outside the glass doors of our room and at the closest
pub.
I'm going to try to
find a reasonably priced camera. Sorry! What must be, must be.
There are none to found in this neighborhood, but we're going into the
city tomorrow so I'll try again there.
Tomorrow night is my
London Literary Pub Crawl. Tonight will be writing, dinner, a glass of
wine, and early bedtime. The squirrels here are orange! The lodge
has kitties! Siamese and assorted others. Tea and china and a beautiful
lawn-- not at all fancy though--very much untouched up. It's probably
looked just like this for a hundred years and I believe it's quite a bit older
than that.
More soon, my love!
I miss you very much and am sleeping with Kathy's Rosary. Safe and
sound with the little kitties! Kiss the pups! I love you, Your Hunno
P.S. I’m going to
share this post as my first London Blog and will try to keep posting there
throughout the trip.
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