Sunday, October 21: Two Kings One Field

A bit of a late start this morning, but that was to be expected. Garry and Pauline did tell us we were most welcome to attend the family service at their village parish church at 10:30 if we so desired. St. Michael and All Angels in Fenny Drayton celebrates a family service on third Sundays at 10:30 A.M. Oh how tempting! My family would have deserted me.

Instead we started the day by walking the dogs...and the boys...through the village. We did stop at the church and I was able to poke in before the start of the service. I did feel a bit guilty when pounced upon by the greeter whom I believe was hoping had found new potential parishioners. Still, she presented me with Fenny Drayton Parish Newsletter for October and a flyer about the church itself. We continued on to a small playground and then round to a memorial to George Fox, birthplace of the founder of the Society of Friends, i.e. Quakers. I was more impressed than the boys of course.

When we returned, Pauline had prepared a traditional English breakfast for us. A "fry up." Oh my! I may not be able to tuck in to the rashers and sausages, but I still had quite the post-rugby World Cup breakfast. Following a refreshing autumn walk through a charming English village, who could ask for more? Well, Liam I suppose, but we did cut him off at one point.

Garry held up admirably and escorted us to Bosworth Battlefield. My entire family, as well as my host, were wonderfully accommodating and humoured my love of history. I am very aware that we simply walked around a field that sports a few battle standards and a handful of historical plaques. The spot where Richard III supposedly took a sip of water looks much as a small child shouted from a distance. "Da, it looks like a barbie!" (That would be outdoor grill, not anatomically impossible doll, for the Americans reading this blog.) I am an unabashed Yorkist who firmly believes Henry VII undeservedly and through a pure stroke of luck achieved the English crown. Richard III has been sorely maligned throughout history and the princes in the tower disappeared on the order of Henry Tudor. Be that as it may....

The battlefield exhibition is under rennovation, but the visitor center did enable Jamie and Garry to watch a brief film while the boys drew pictures of knights and I rung up our inevitable souvenir purchases. The walk around the battlefield was just glorious in this weather. I did a few "brass rubbings" and then we left for the Coventry train station. We actually caught a slightly earlier train an would have arrived even sooner had not a small child not pulled the emergency lever. We wondered what had happened when our train stopped in the middle of nowhere. I am so ever grateful the train manager bawled out a mother that was not me. Though given her ethnicity and the expression on her face I'm going to take a wild guess that she hadn't a clue what he was yelling at her and we were quite lucky the little shit didn't do it again.

Jamie taught Liam how to play a variety of poker variations while I taught Colin how to nap on a train. I win!

After returning home Jamie contacted a co-worker who had arrived earlier today to begin training the "superusers" at the newspaper tomorrow. We all went to an Indian/Bangladeshi restaurant where the children were total shits. I ended up leaving a bit early with Colin, poured him into the tub and was asleep before Jamie could get both Colin and Liam to bed. All night long I dreamt of hiding out in a tornado shelter as oodles and oodles of tornados descended upon Melbourne, FL. Before and after I moved into the bed with Colin because of Jamie's snoring. I wonder if that means anything.