No real content, but look: pretty flowers! English flowers!

When the alarm went off this morning, I could feel a storm brewing in my head. I got up, took a migraine pill, and set the alarm for an hour later. I dozed and slept and the head was much better when I got up. All day, though, I've felt a little off, a bit loopy, a tad "morning after the night before", and to be honest if I'm going to feel like that, I want to earn it*.

*Says the girl who doesn't drink. But you know what I mean.

Of course, life rarely listens to what I want. Anyway, this is all by way of explaining why I'm going to throw you some pictures in lieu of anything requiring thought. I expect you'll enjoy The Flowers of England, or at least I hope so.








This picture, by the way?


As you can see by the tree trunk, it should be turned 90 degrees clockwise. And the usually compliant Picasa let me do it, but wouldn't save it. No idea what bug crawled up Picasa's nose, since that's usually something it will do in its sleep. Just saying.

Signs of England

Before I get into the signs, I would just like to state that hormones are evil things, and that although I am pleased that I have fewer migraines than I used to, I simply wish that I never got any, ever. That is all.

(Though at least on a long weekend, losing most of a day to a horror-headache doesn't screw me up quite as much as usual. Much of yesterday is a blur of ugh, but today was 99% fine headwise, and thus laundry and other things have been accomplished.)

Meanwhile, here are some signs I took pictures of in England, for your entertainment.

Proving that I had my camera out the whole time, here is a photo from Heathrow. It amused me that instead of men's room or something similar, they had this:


Then there was this truck, whose slogan reminded me of the Little Caesar's ads: Pizza pizza!


We also discussed a possible competitor: Sofa SoGood. Someone should use that. Help yourself. You're welcome.

When I noticed the slogan on this newspaper, I had to snap it:


Modest, aren't they?

This is looking on the bright side and thinking positive:


In the US, a similar thing would be:


I wonder if you can call to complain in the UK, or if they only want good news.

Now, does this sound funny to you? I find it sort of old-fashioned, but cute somehow:


In Cranbrook, I was reminded of Window Arts Malden:


More dismayingly, I found these two error-ridden (and inconsistently error-ridden) signs at my old school. Tsk, tsk.


That should be "to receive"; ouch. Then there's only the one error in this version, which was right next to the first one, but they misspelled "receive" in a different way here. Way to hold up those educational standards.


In a car park in Stratford, I was amused by this:


The poor rejected coins...

Apparently the meaning behind this next one is that if the nearest machine is broken, you have no excuse, and must find another to pay the fee. The fact that that message wasn't clear to me is doubtless a cultural thing.


This one I just liked:


While here, I was looking for the missing question mark.


Attention, Typo Hunt Across America: your services are needed abroad as well.

You may need to click on this to make it big enough to fully appreciate the oddness of this sign.


It's odd to me, anyway. And not as amusing as this one:


Because I love the idea of buying reject pots. Human hair, not so much.

Here endeth the lesson. Good night!

The crafty side of England

A short one tonight, it's getting late: I spent the evening getting a few groceries, making dinner, and being a lap. The cats are still Velcro, which as I've been home for a week now is wearing ever so slightly thin in the charm department. But! There is no telling cats about time. And after all, it is nice to have been missed.

Plus, I can prove I was thinking of them while I was gone. Not only did I take photos of three actual cats, but there was this:


You don't have to see the cat's face to know it's saying, "I'm just watching the fish".

I had no earthly need for these dishcloths, but I found them quite amusing anyway. One:


And two:

Oh, to talk about England...

Eight loads of laundry in an afternoon feels like quite a lot.

Sorting through, Snapfishing, captioning, and sharing my photos with friends and family is a lot!

I'm rather tired.

But! I must show and tell you England before I forget what it was like (or before you lose interest). Indeed, I want to tell you; it's just that being so tired and sleeping so much have cut into my leisure time something fierce. No matter! Here we go!

Actually, first let me say, more pictures will pop up in future. I have funny signs, flowers, and other random photos that aren't quite first run, but don't deserve to be left in the dark, either. But this should be the highlight reel. Ready? Remember that if you want to see any picture bigger, click on it. Go!

My good, good friend met me at the airport Friday morning at an hour my mother calls oh-god-hundred. She is a good friend. (She doesn't even live near the airport. This is a good friend, and I would say so even if she didn't read my blog. Hi!) From there, we drove South-South-East-ish, into Kent, toward the school where we met, lo, these many moons ago (September, 1986). Isn't it pretty?



We drove around the towns we remember visiting on Saturday afternoons: Biddenden, Tenterden, Cranbrook. We saw a very, very small car.


We went into Rye, which I at least do not remember visiting, but which was charming, and not just the ice cream (although that was good, but it wasn't even the best of the trip).



Mid-afternoon, we both had crashing energy levels, so we found the B&B where we were to spend the night, and each were happy to unpack and nap a bit before dinner-time. It's great to agree on such a plan! And there was a bunny in the garden (the first of three I saw during this trip).


Dinner was at a local pub, the Red Lion in Biddenden, and was delicious (though I'm glad not to have seen the saddle of rabbit, as I was not able to contemplate that on the menu without rather disturbing Bugs Bunny images crossing my mind). I did try the treacle tart for dessert, and it was lovely. Yay for being slightly adventurous!

It was the next morning, before the actual event, the Seniors* Day for which I had timed my trip as I did, that we had the best ice cream, and I don't just mean of the trip. It was creamier than anything I ever tasted, and absolutely worth crossing the Atlantic for. I also had pear juice, which turned out to be from a farm in town. Local, indeed!

*My fellow Americans: for Seniors, think Alumni, and for Seniors Day, think Reunion. Roughly comparable.

Why do you suppose he wears reflective gear, in broad daylight, on the sidewalk?


Certainly a pretty part of the world, no?


Seniors Day was amazing. Just seeing the school again 20 years later was such fun. A lot has changed, of course, but the essential building is just the same as I remember it.



I mentioned royalty: Princess Anne was speaking. Here she comes:


The current students were very excited.


And there she is (left of center, white top and dark skirt).


Lunch in the Hall:


The new Chapel window (I knew you'd want to see that):


She was quite a good speaker, actually. Very relaxed, and it was interesting to be part of a group she referred to as "we". Quite the experience. I'm glad I went.


When I first saw this sign, I thought it said "...in the world", so I was glad when a second glance revealed that they were not so far-reaching in their claims.


Isn't it pretty?


All right, who ordered the hot-air balloon? Isn't that a bit much? Who's going to believe that?


Well, anyway. Next day, Shakespeare's birthplace. Welcome to Stratford!


Indeed, welcome to England!


I wish this was my local library.


My favorite modern feature of Stratford: they tell you how many spots are open in nearby parking lots. How helpful!


What would you say: pretty as a picture?


How about this one?


Wait, now: are those reactors? Seems out of place.


And this building gives Boston City Hall a run for its money in the ugly category!


London: charming!


More small cars. I don't know that I'd like to drive it, but I'd like to park it! I hear that they're so short it's legal to park them nose-in to the curb, but I didn't see one that way.


Water near Camden Market:


What lock is it?


Oh, thank you:


See, there's small, and there's don't be ridiculous:


Here's where I knew it was time to come home:


Anyone still with me? Do you feel I used any restraint? I promise I did! But now even I'm worn out with England photos. Perhaps I will manage to talk about something else next time!