Urghh...

Bart tried on Iain's hat. It's a cute picture, because Bart and Tony were so lovely with Iain and because I remember that when this photo was taken I'd just emerged from perhaps the most revolting bathroom in Europe.

Take my advice: don't use the loo underneath the bridge by the punting place near the dorms at King's College (the ugly modern ones). Seriously. Worse than the Cork bus station, and that's saying a lot.

Here's a bit more advice: if your car breaks down in the rain on the Sunday after July 4, you won't have a fun afternoon. Even if wonderful friends from Virginia and DC alter all their plans to fetch you, take you in, feed you, comfort you and otherwise mitigate the pain, you still won't have a nice day. In fact, your day will be right on up there with that time you got your wisdom teeth out.

Fun at King John's Lodge

Sometimes, when Aunt Miriam was getting married, or organizing her wedding, or checking on the plans, or picking someone up, or having lunch or dinner or breakfast or talking to people or going somewhere or being awake or sleeping, Iain wanted to ride the slide. Daddy helped.

As you can see, Iain insists on wearing proper slide attire: an oxford shirt and linen trousers with naked toes. Isn't that what you wear?

Other times, Iain preferred to go au natural:


Unfortunately, diaper-only events often include Serious Tickling.

St. Mary's, Milton Keynes

Look what's lurking in Bart and Tony's backyard! This little church dates from the 13th century (but not this building, just the presence of the church). It sits surrounded by its graveyard, minding the corner of a large neighborhood park.


When we stopped by, the church had been locked because of vandals. But while Tony, Charles and Iain walked the dogs nearby, Bart and I poked around the grounds. When we saw a couple of people with keys arrive...we figured we'd had a stroke of luck. Sure enough, they'd come to work on the organ, and they let us take a little tour inside.


Here's the altar, complete with a beautiful stained glass window.

In another window, the glass is clear, but the pattern intricate:

From inside, that's especially lovely.

This venerable fellow is Thomas Stafford, who died in 1607 (age 80). That's the same year the English settled Jamestown, Virginia. He left behind one surviving son (of four) and 3 daughters, each of whose marital history is detailed on his commemorative slab.


The pastor gives his sermon from on high, one of the characteristics of traditional protestant worship opposed by adherents of the Great Awakening (in the 18th century). They liked to bring the pastor down to the people, to eliminate many of the boundaries among parishioners, and to emphasize equality before god.

Back in the altar area, there's this little bench. Do the altar boys sit here? We didn't know.

Outside again, we looked for interesting graves. Perhaps because of the site or the climate, most of the graves were relatively new (19th century). Some looked like this:

So we could hardly read the words, and spent a fun ten minutes arguing about whether someone died in 1744 or not. IN a place like this, I think you really have to do rubbings to figure out the dates. Your eyes are useless.

Bart and I agreed that it was a jewel. This is what I mean when I say that Milton Keynes has a lot to offer - the city may be new, but nothing in England is really new.

Flowers of Britain

In my undying quest to make Iain a gardener (or, at least, appreciative of gardening), I try to expose him to flowers wherever possible. Here, he studies an old garden rose at King John's Lodge.


Pretty...

Here's a closeup. I love this kind of rose so much. Cabbage-shaped, many petaled, grown in sprays, tons of flowers - what's not to love?


A more modern rose, in the formal gardens at KJL:


But flowers of great beauty appear everywhere in Britain, not just in big, expertly-tended gardens. Here, growing by the side of Bart and Tony's driveway, was a lovely little flower growing against a blue/lavender background shrub. Gorgeous.


And when we ventured around Cambridge, Charles found this lavender hedge along the side of an entrance at Queen's.


Back in Milton Keynes, we toured a park devoted to peace, including a Buddhist pavilion and a Japanese Buddhist temple. More on that later. But in the garden there was this sweet Asiatic lily.

In some ways, England is just one big garden. Everywhere you go, you find flowers offering shape, color, and fragrance to brighten the lush green of the parks and hedges.

Venue #3

While Miriam's weddings took place in Royal Tunbridge Wells and Sandhurst, her reception and the multi-day party took place at King John's Lodge near Ticehurst.

Here' s a view of Charles and Iain through one of the leaded windows upstairs in the Lodge:


The Lodge has the most spectacular gardens you can imagine. Secret gardens, wild gardens, rose gardens and fairy gardens - you name it. Apple-munching sheep? Check!

Here's the tiny pond that you can cross with an even tinier wooden bridge onto the tiniest of islands:


Here's the entrance to the Wild Garden. Iain saw the statues and said, "Doggie!"


In the Wild Garden, rambling roses provide an object lesson in the difference between climbing and rambling in the rose world.


Here's a side view of the Lodge itself. Imagine taking your tea here, watching the sun set and smelling the roses.


This is a Ha-Ha. It's a sort of water barrier, with stepping pads for crossing. At least 4 people fell in the Ha-Ha over the weekend, including Little Eddie, who fell in twice. I hear that his mother used to fall in as well, so it's a family tradition well preserved. Good work, little man.


The Lodge in all its glory:

And the Ha-Ha with pear trees and beautiful, fluffy clouds. Truly, a perfect place to enjoy the best of English weather, gardening, and hospitality. I loved it.

Toast, waffles, biscuits, muffins, croissants, rolls, breadsticks...what's left?

That Maddie girl loves her carbs. As does Iain. In the last 2 weeks, he's become The World's Number One Fan of croissants. Maddie, meanwhile, experimented with a product known as "pancakes."

She gives it two thumbs up. Way up.

Go Fly A Kite

On one of our last days in Milton Keynes, the boys took us to a beautiful park next to the historic village of Stony Stratford* for some fun with wind.

Here are Tony and Charles playing with the lines, and below the two of them plus Tony's brother Mick. See that blue thing on the upper right? That's an enormous kite, as big as two men. It has to be launched into the air by one person while the other battles the wind using long handles.

Tony has mad skills with the kite. Charles was learning to fly, and though he learned fast and had a great time, he also experienced the joy of being dragged across a field by an enormous sail. Then I experienced the pleasure of rubbing hydrogen peroxide into his abrasions. Good times.


Tony's brother Mick came by to play, give Charles some pointers, and generally enjoy the weather. I don't know what happened to the England we met in 2007. This time, the sun shone nearly every day and it hardly rained at all. We brought rain jackets, umbrellas and rain-proof shoes, so that probably guaranteed sunshine.

That's Mick, below, looking all nonchalant and cool like he does.



*No, really. When Eleanor, wife of Edward I, died, her body traveled slowly through England in state. Everywhere that the cortege stopped, Edward erected a memorial cross. Stony Stratford had one.

But wait, there's more! Remember the Princes in the Tower? The ones who disappeared under Richard III's watch? The elder, Edward V, was captured by his uncle in Stony Stratford, and from there conveyed under guard to the Tower...never to be seen again.

So it's really historic. Like, really. Even by English standards.