To use a bit of countrified lingo: them confounded dates! Everything looks good; we're doing a Mother's Day post, and we hit Publish, and it comes up on the screen--wham! Deception uncovered. The heading reads, "Saturday, July 3, 2010. Mother's Day Photos."
It doesn't take much for the average person to be able to sleuth it out: we are not avid, intense bloggers.
But then, we're busy doing more important things. Like touring England, as of 9:00 this morning! So, will do my best to keep our blog followers--all three of you--updated on our daily scrapes and adventures.
Roight, then: no time like the present.
Departed out of Toronto airport around 9:30 Canadian time. It was a rawther restless flight, on account of trying to sleep most of the trip, and failing utterly. It didn't help that Sarah and I were struggling to overcome rotten-timed colds. But all things--good and bad--come to an end sooner or later. We arrived in Manchester airport at 9:00 this morning, without fellow passengers and crew assaulting us on account of my trying to imitate their accents, and more than likely making the attempt sound like a mockery. They sound brill, though.
Auntie Jean and Uncle Mike were a sight for sore eyes. Great to see them again after, what, three years! :) From there, it was a two-hour trip to Driffield on highways much like the Q.E, then through green, rolling countryside.
To BED. Fear we didn't make very good company for Granny and Lisa; crashed for two welcome hours; then woke up a bit brighter and ready to face more relatives dropping in for a visit. A livingroom full of friendly humanity, chocolate biscuits, and English-style humour; great stuff, that.
Broke out for a run through the village later in the evening. Aaaah ... how can I possibly describe the utter bliss of running down a rough track in the brisk evening air ... feeling a slight mist as cars drive past in the puddles ... flushing out a flock of birds in a nearby field, and hearing their wings rustle ... seeing the faint brushes of red sunset light in the sky, and chatting personally with the Artist? I can't. You should've been there.
Wish ya were,
Jenn