Random Thursday

I think I'm wearing down; I'm ready to be home. Nothing against anything here, I'm just missing my routine, my hubby, my cat, cooking, all that. Maybe three weeks would have been enough. I've jokingly said I feel like I'm in electronic rehab -- no television, no texting, no phone -- and as sad as it may be, I look forward to sitting down and watching one of my recorded TV shows. I also look forward to air conditioning!

I took myself out to breakfast today to a sweet cafe called The Pantry. I ordered homemade muesli with yogurt and honey, plus a pot of Earl Grey. The tea here really is better. It really is. I just couldn't go for one of the pub breakfasts advertised on the sidewalks -- eggs, beans (as in pork n beans), mushrooms and sausages. Just couldn't do it.

The big news items in these slow news times are (1) Simon Cowell fathering a child with his friend's wife and (2) Prince Charles wearing the same suit to at least seven of his past "events." How do they know it's the same suit, you ask? It seems the suit is patched, or repaired as they say, it's front and center, bottom left side. He bumped into fresh paint on one of his trips and it was fixed by placing a patching over the area. Maybe he's doing his part for the economy. Another newsy bit was about the zero-hour contracts that employees at Buckingham Palace have. No guaranteed number of hours; calling employees in on short notice, etc. And they can't take another job if they are under the contract. Sounds ludicrous to me. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts.

I went into a Marks & Spencer store today. This one has clothes in the front half of the store, and groceries in the back half. A fairly large area, actually, for food, and it's good food too. An interesting combo.

I picked this item up, thinking it was probably a Shiraz candle. It is not, in fact, a candle, but a (plastic) glass of Shiraz, sealed with plastic on top, available for purchase. Right there, next to the shoe wipes. Do not look for this on the grocery shelves in Tulsa!



And my last thought for this post is why would they announce the Jane Austen currency note four years ahead of when it will circulated? What a tease! I was all set to scoop some up for friends.

Train to Croydon

Which is better? This?

Or this?

Yeah, I thought so too. That was my feeling yesterday when we ventured to Croydon, which is basically south London. Busy streets, tall steel buildings, people bumping into you, sirens, yellow ambulances, all the hustle and bustle that Newmarket is lacking.

When they tell you that you grow by taking yourself out of your comfort zone, let me tell you, I must have grown a lot yesterday. We left early, got on the wrong train to London, but at least it was going to London. With plenty of improvisation and good luck, we arrived at the UK Border Agency on time, just a little rattled. It had taken Jennifer six weeks to get this appointment, so missing it was out of the question. After we ran across a busy six-lane street, I spotted this sign.

Oops! After her appointment, we decided we'd had enough of Croydon and took the train (now quite experienced) into central London for a late lunch. Red buses, cute taxi cabs, and tourists passed by as we dined al fresco on Buckingham Palace Road. One gentleman stopped to ask me for directions to Westminster Abbey. It thrilled me to think I looked like I knew what I was doing!

A hot train back home, and we'd had an 11-hour day. It was nice to be back in quiet little Newmarket. The evening temperature required a sweater, which felt great after a sweltering day. The weather is so nice in the evenings, it sounds like a party all around the neighborhood, so many people sitting outside, you hear much laughter and talking all around you.

Have I mentioned this is the driest July in 250 years?!!

The Gallops

It's hot here. Everyone is so excited about the weather. They keep telling me how lucky I am to be here for this weather. Usually, they say, it's quite chilly, rainy, and jacket worthy. I don't tell them I was actually hoping for a bit more chill than I'm getting, but there's still time to experience that I imagine. The mornings are quite nice, as are the evenings, but during the day, no air conditioning means the windows are open with no screens, little breeze, but plenty of bees and flies. There are times that the incessant buzzzzz drives me up the wall. I'm not complaining, just keeping it real for you.

I'm a big fan of thumbprint travel. Take a map, put your thumb down where you are, and explore the area covered by your thumb. That is pretty much what I've been doing the past week.

This morning I walked down to watch the horses do their gallop exercises. This little town is known for one thing  -- horse racing. It's the thoroughbred training center of the country, so fields, stables, and galloping paths surround the area. It's really quite beautiful and very peaceful.


After the horses finish their exercises (after 1 p.m.) the galloping trails are open to the public. I want to walk the trail one evening because I hear the view from the top is spectacular.

And if you're a tall woman looking for a tall man, this is NOT the place to be. It is very noticeable how many small men are here. And the other day at the races? All those retired jockeys? Oh my. It was another world. I felt like a giant.

 
The stables and even the stable entrances are very elaborate. Very clean and picturesque.

Tomorrow, we venture by train to an area near London (we're 65 miles north), business for my sister; exploration for me. She will be interrogated, fingerprinted, and investigated so she can trade her temporary work Visa for a permanent one. Me, I'm along for the ride and one more adventure.

Jigsaw Festival

You’re going to be jealous, I know you are. I went to the Jigsaw Festival today at St. Mary’s Church in Newmarket. It’s an annual event, with an “ever changing display” of puzzles. There were approximately 275 puzzles on display, all completed and all for sale. Tables and tables of puzzles, all sizes. Some were as big as 5 ft.x 3 ft. There were several in progress with the invitation to "have a go" if you wanted. I added one piece.

Unfortunately, I missed the Singles Jigsaw Championship which was held on Sunday. A woman finished the 1000 piece puzzle in 171 minutes and is the first British Singles Jigsaw Champion. The women who joined me for tea at my table were marveling at her skill.

This just goes to prove there’s something for everyone.

 











Have a go!








This is the competition puzzle that was completed in 171 minutes. Everyone who competed got to keep the puzzle and the winner was awarded 50 pounds.

A Day at the Races

Darley July Cup Day is one of the biggest race days in Britain. On Saturday, July 13, the July Course in Newmarket hosted the race considered by many to be Europe’s most prestigious sprint AND it occurred on my sister's birthday AND her community choir sang AND I got to join the choir for the day. Holy cow, what a day it was. We had to be at the race track at 11:00 a.m., dressed entirely in black. It promised to be a hot day and did not disappoint. There were 25-30 of us, standing in the shade of a tree, singing as the gates opened. We broke for lunch and regathered an hour later in the shade of a small building in the family section of the race grounds. Blankets, coolers, small children everywhere.We weren't too well-received in this area, competing with race announcements and so forth, and finally gave in and let the PA system have its way. A 3-hour break before our final appearance gave us time in which to watch the races, find some shade and take in all the fashion hats, of which there was no shortage. Our last "appearance" was at 5:45, full hot sun, in the parade ring. An exhausting day, but one that will never be matched, or forgotten.

The hat I wore to the races was for practical purposes only, it was not a fashion statement, unlike Ladies attending the race for sport. Quite fashionable they were and every single one was quite thrilled when I asked if I could snap a picture of her hat. You can see all the hats here. There were just too many to post on this page.

Everyone awaits the royal birth. A silver penny has been minted that every child born on the same day as the royal one will receive in a little pink or blue purse. Pregnant mums are indeed hoping their day coincides with Kate's.



Although, you can bet on horses here, it is illegal to bet on the sex of the royal child.

Newmarket is what they call a two-tiered town. One tier has a lot, as in money, and the other tier has little. Most of the shops are geared to those who have little. Many consignment shops, second-hand shops, charity shops, super-saver stores--that sort of commercial makeup.

The one thing the town has no shortage of though, is vibrant flower baskets.You see them everywhere, on porches, street lamps, side walls, shop walls, so fresh, so colorful. That's what puts the charm in this little town. That and maybe the fact that the butchers in small specialty shops wear hats. I noticed it in one shop and thought it unique, charming in the way that specialty shops can be, but then I saw the same thing in another butcher shop. A dress code, perhaps?  Whatever it is, I love it, visually.

Continuing down High Street (think Main Street), there it was, the English version of my favorite store. It cracked me up and of course I had to check it out. Similar items, but not the marketing skills of American store layouts. They even had the same purse I almost bought before my trip, except now it would cost 30% more because of currency conversion. And I wonder, why the K? Do other countries have the same store, but with another second letter? Curious indeed.

And then there were more flowers. They're a little like seashells to me. Once I get started, I can't seem to stop. Each one seems just a bit prettier than the last one, and today, I ended up with picture after picture of flowers. Today was the day of the flowers. I'm sure I'll get to the signs soon. The signs are another one of those things here that make me smile.

Newmarket: A Little Rubbish Town

A little rubbish town is how the driver described Newmarket as we drove in. It sounded negative to me, but he went on to explain he meant there were are only houses and horses, no cute antique shops, no upscale cafes, and such.

This is the door to my sister's house. I have my own skeleton key. Yes, I said skeleton key. I plan to venture out today and find the charm that I know is here. Martin, the driver, may call it rubbish, but I believe I saw more charm than he did. Like beauty, charm is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose. The only thing I have found that I forgot to pack was my calcium, so my first trek out will be to a market. I bet it's a charming walk.