Here we are again in jolly old England, spending the Bank Holiday in The Cotswolds. The weather is a balmy 78 degrees with blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The charming young school children dressed in floral frocks and danced around the May Pole. I think I might have just stepped into the pages of a idyllic children’s fairytale.
Yesterday we were at Kenilworth Castle hobnobbing with the queen and her gentry. We met the fool and the falconers, and watched knights joust with fresh fruit, bread and flowers. To top it off a lovely British woman was cooking up a lamb stew in a cast iron pot over the open fire.
It was all very historical and interactive and British. And so I felt this quote was quite appropriate given my circumstances, because it’s also quite true. I have even found my voice tilting up at times with a lovely English lilt.
What it must be like to grow up in a place so steeped in rich history and culture? What must it be like to visit castles and ruins and fortresses on your school holidays? Very different than the world I knew growing up in a small town of 3000 people on the far left tip of the United States.