For Johanna's birthday, Mom, Sam, Johanna and I went to the American Girl Place at the Mall of America.  Johanna doesn't have an American Girl.  She has this doll from Vision Forum, but she loves "Felicity" from the American Girl series.  In the picture above, Johanna is posing beside the Felicity display. 

For a snack, we went to the American Girl Cafe where Johanna and Sam were each allowed to choose a doll to take care of at our table.   

Sam named his doll "George." 

As we sat there waiting for our pretzel bread and cheese fondue, a waitress brought out mini-muffins and tiny cups of pink lemonade for the dolls.  Here, Sam is demonstrating to Johanna the proper way to feed the dolls.

We had a lovely time. 

When we were done, Johanna was allowed to pick out her birthday presents - a Felicity movie and a beautiful new dress for her doll. 

I hope Johanna thoroughly enjoys being eight years old.  It's a magical age and never comes back again.  Of course, no age comes back again, but none has the same dreams and amusements as being an eight-year-old girl. 

Here's the birthday boy from yesterday. 

Hard to believe that 12 years ago I was holding my precious baby bundle for the first time.  I never got tired of staring at him, watching the expressions as they flitted across his tiny face.  He was the sweetest, cutest, best baby ever.  Of course, I went on to have three more sweetest, cutest, best babies, but William was the first. 

Twelve years feels like such a short time and such a long time.  He has changed quite a bit, to say the least, but I have changed, too.  Motherhood has brought out the worst and hopefully the best in me.  My older brother, Tom, sometimes complains about being the oldest and how tough that is and I being the middle child must staunchly pooh-pooh this idea.  Now that I'm a parent, though, I have to admit that, at least in our family, being the oldest really is tough.  Poor William is our guinea pig, he leads the vanguard in teaching us how to be parents: how to make rules, set limits, enforce them, be flexible, back down, apologize, start over, do better.  He paves the way for the younger ones, breaks down the parental strongholds, so their lives won't be so difficult.  He's a real Lech Walesa.  Okay, maybe I'm getting dramatic now. 

We had parent/teacher conferences last night and it was so wonderful to hear his teachers talk about what an amazing young man he is becoming.  We talked about his faults and struggles as well, but we really are so proud of our William and can't wait to see what the Lord has in store for him. 

Most autumnal poems are dark and depressing - beautiful and evocative and great if you're in a bad mood anyway and just want to wallow in it for a while - but today, I am happy and I hope you are, too.  So, here is a happy fall poem.  Enjoy!

To Autumn  by William Blake

O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

I don't have much time this morning.  We've got to get going to Micah's speech meet (he's set to recite "Matilda" by Hillaire Belloc), then get some cleaning/baking/schooling done, then go pick up my mom at the airport! 

But I'll show you Teddy's cabin before I rush off for the day.

This is Teddy's Maltese Cross cabin, a mansion by local standards - of the time.  It has three rooms and a loft - all the luxury one could ask for.  He lived here when he first came to the area, before he went further north and built his super-duper mansion cabin with eight rooms! 

This is the view from the kitchen window. 

They have many items which Teddy used while he was there and a nervous little park ranger told us about his time there. 

There is also a display in the visitors' center which we went through: all the TR you can stand in one day!  Of course, our level of tolerance is higher than most people's when it comes to TR.

From there, we headed down south to the other Dakota.

This is one my favorite sights.  Makes me smile every time.

I'm going back here a bit to share from our trip to the Badlands at the end of August.  It really was a great trip - lots of fun and family bonding and no rain. 

The first day we drove.  A lot.  We drove all the way from St. Paul to Bismarck, ND.  If you want to know how far that is, look it up on your atlas; I can't bear to look.  Sometimes it's best when our memories gloss over the worst trauma of an exerience.  In fact, the entire human race depends on women's memories glossing over the staggering pain and agony of childbirth and convincing us it's a good idea to do it again.  But that's not the point here.  What was my point?  Oh, yes, driving.  Not just driving, of course, but driving with four young children one of which is three years old.  Here's what Sam was driven to doing for entertainment:

Sucking on empty water bottles.  What else is there to do?  Look out the window?  Once you've seen one upper midwest prairie you've pretty much seen them all.

That night, we stayed in a motel in Bismarck.  We went swimming and relaxed.

Next morning, we decided to stop and see the ugliest capital building in the entire United States, maybe the world.  The guidebook claimed that it is "Art Deco" but we found it "Plain Ugly."  It does have a lovely statue of Sacagawea, though.

This was our first bison of the trip and was surprisingly docile and friendly. 

From there we drove on west to Teddy Roosevelt National Park.  As many of you know, John is a big fan of TR and William's middle name is Roosevelt (for Teddy, not Franklin, you may be sure), so this was an exciting pilgrimage for all of us. 

This was what we could see from our campground and is pretty representative of the landscape there in the southern half of TRNP. 

That evening, we took the scenic loop around the park and, as we had hoped, encountered wildlife along the way.  The first real, live bison we saw had its south ended pointed toward us and was...uh...making a buffalo chip (how's that for euphemism?) so we decided not to take a picture of our first real, live bison.  

Moving on.

We eventually came across some more real, live bison, much better behaved than the first.  Bison are awesome and intimidating, especially up close.  These were on the road ahead of us and beside us.  They walked right past us. 

This fella was farther away and slightly less scary, but quite photogenic. 

At one point, we got out and hiked to the top of Buck Hill.  Sam found a cool hole in one of the rocks and thought he should stick his hand in there.  Thankfully, I reached him before some angry rattler could! 

There are several prairie dog towns in the park and we had fun watching the dogs pop in and out of their holes.  Some of them were a little to comfortable with modern living - several holes were right at the edge of the road!

Wild horses caused quite a traffic jam at one particular turn off in the road.  They were beautiful.

Once the scenic tour was done, we headed back to the campground where a park ranger was giving a talk about Teddy Roosevelt and his time on the ranch there.  Sam wasn't particularly interested, but the rest of us enjoyed it. 

That night, we fell asleep under a huge sky-full of stars.  We don't get that in the city so it was an extra special treat to look up and enjoy the beauty of God's creation.   

Tonight is the last of Wm's regular season football games.  Have to rally the troops and get out the door in a minute, but I thought I would share a few pictures from the season.  I'm all hopped up on Tylenol with Codeine so I hope this makes some sort of sense. 

In the huddle.  William is on the far right behind the kid who sees the camera.  :-)

Isn't he just so cute?  I mean, in a manly sort of way, of course. 

Look out, other team, William's on the field. 

Main cheering section.

Night game.  This was at the beginning of the season when it was warm enough to have night games.  See the ref with shorts on?  Yeah, well, night games at the end of October are not quite so warm.  *shiver*  Break out the long undies and snow pants!

The season and William's attitude toward playing football have both been up and down, some real positives with a liberal sprinkling of negative thrown in there.  Don't know if he'll want to play again next year; we'll cross that bridge later.  But he has shown a lot of improvement.  He even made a couple of tackles during the last game. 

Okay.  Time's up.  Here we go!

"The Wart did not know what Merlyn was talking about, but he liked him to talk.  He did not like the grown-ups who talked down to him, but the ones who went on talking in their usual way, leaving him to leap along in their wake, jumping at meanings, guessing, clutching at known words, and chuckling at complicated jokes as they suddenly dawned.  He had the glee of the porpoise then, pouring and leaping through strange seas."  from The Once and Future King by T.H.White

Isn't that where so much of the joy of education comes from?  I know that glee, don't you?  And I want my children to know that glee, as well.  This is one reason why we read aloud books like "Kidnapped" by R.L.Stevenson.  They don't know all of the words - heck, I don't know all the words - but we stumble along together, picking up pieces and puzzling them together and, when we understand, we know that we have accomplished something. 

Don't get much better'n 'at! 

Well, by God's good providence, the baby we had thought to add to our family will not be coming after all.  After the baby's birth, the mother decided to place her with another family. 

This news sounds quite bad, I know, but we really do feel that it is all by God's good providence.  We are disappointed to be back to waiting, but we know that the baby has gone to a good, Christian family, and we know that God will provide just the right baby at just the right time. 

 We have appreciated the outpouring of love and encouragement from family and friends and can only be thankful for God's direction in our lives.  He led us to this point and he will lead us on.  "Yes, even on through death itself, our constant guide is He."  That's from a Psalm - which one I can't remember right now - but in The Book of Psalms for Singing, that line swells and rises so that one can hardly help smiling and, since we are not a shouting kind of church, one must supress a desire to shout the good news.  My heart shouts it, though, and God hears.  He is our guide.  Praise His name! 

So, we are waiting, sometimes patiently, sometimes impatiently, but we wait with hope in our God. 

Well, I'm skipping a lot of fun summer activities, but if I start where I left off with July 4, I will never catch up to what we're doing now.  Christmas pictures will come up in July.  So, over the next few months, I'll share some stuff from our summer.  When the snow flies and the temperature is below zero for a daytime high, I will post sunny, green pictures and we'll all feel a little warmer. 

For now, I'll let you know what's going on with us at this moment in time. 

William is playing football, taking violin and trombone lessons, and in 6th grade at Liberty Classical Academy.  Somehow he has kept up with everything quite well so far.  I was prepared for meltdowns and/or emotional explosions, but he has kept his wits about him and is doing very well.  Nevertheless, we will be glad when football season is over. 

Micah is taking piano lessons and is in 4th grade at Liberty Classical Academy.  This is his first year in formal school since he went to Kindergarten at BCCS.  He loves it.  And, much to the relief of his homeschooling mama, he is doing well academically and - amazingly enough - socially!  He is currently working on his poem for the October 30 speech meet - "Matilda" by Hillaire Belloc.  Look it up; it's quite a funny poem and Micah has quite a sense of dramatic humor, so we think he'll do well, as long as nerves don't interfere!

Johanna is taking piano lessons and is in 2nd grade at The Shaw School for the Inspiration of Academic Anemics.  Despite our academy's name, Johanna is an excellent and occasionally eager student.  She is currently learning about butterflies for science class and she and I are reading aloud to each other "Betsy-Tacy" by Minnesota author Maud Hart Lovelace.  I am loving having one student and a female student at that - we can be all girly and no one minds. 

Sam is busy, adventurous, hilarious, destructive, and adorable - you know, three.  He loves to play whatever his siblings are playing and his mouth as well as his body is in constant motion.  He enjoys his celebrity status as youngest child.  He has no idea that his world is about to be rocked. 

As most of you know, we are in the process of adopting.  We have accepted a referral for a baby girl who will be born some time soon (due date is Oct. 12) in North Carolina.  When we know she is free for adoption, we will travel to NC and pick her up.  This is nerve-wracking and exciting and we would love to have your prayers for all of this!  For now, we wait.  Waiting for a due date is always hard, but at least this time I don't have heartburn and I can sleep on my back if I want to! 

This fall, John took on the job of co-coaching the Liberty middle school soccer team.  They haven't won much, but John is enjoying himself and the kids seem to like him and respond well to him.  He continues to be busy with church work, writing sermons and all that.  Last week, Mission OPC hit a big milestone: we were organized as a particular church of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church.  We installed John as pastor and two other men as ruling elders.  After the worship service, we had a party!  Well, we had cake and punch, anyway, so that makes it a party, right?  This organizing is not an end in itself, of course, but it does mark an important event in our church life. 

I am staying busy enough with homeschooling, parenting four kids, church activities and life in general, so I am happy to not have a job outside the home.  Obviously, this joblessness has not translated into more blogging, but I am hopeful that it will.  Soon, I'll have baby pictures to put up and that will motivate me. 

So, there's the run-down of our family activities.  Tell me what you're up to!

Don't look now, but I just might be blogging!  I've consulted a psychiatric expert and we think that I am avoiding this blog post because I feel immense pressure to end this travel series with dash and verve and I'm afraid I will disappoint my fans (both of them have what I think are unrealistically high expectations).  Besides which, I don't want this trip to end and when I stop blogging about it, it will all be done and then I'll have to be sad.  Then the expert gave me a valium and told me to go write a blog post. 

I don't know if I can say anything witty about it, but the last full day of my adventure was a truly tremendous way to top off a truly tremendous trip (see? words already fail me.).

Tom and Katie and I spent the day together visiting the British Library and the British Museum.  The Magna Carta, Jane Austen's writing desk, handwritten music from Mozart and Beethoven, illuminated manuscripts, and that was just the Library.  At the Museum, we saw the Elgin marbles (frieze figures from the Parthenon), Lewis chessmen, gladiator equipment, and this cool automaton from the 16th century:

It "sailed" across the royal dinner table and fired its tiny canon to signal the start of dinner!  

When we were exhausted with antiquities, we took a cab to the south bank and had dinner overlooking the river. 

Then...oh, then...we went down the street to The Globe to attend a performance of The Comedy of Errors.  You must imagine how I felt getting to finally attend a performance there, for I could not possibly try to describe it.  "I were but little happy if I could say how much."  -Much Ado About Nothing.  

The stage.  Can you believe it?  The stage!

Being wealthy patrons, we had seats as opposed to the mere groundlings below us.  It costs considerably more than a penny to be a groundling these days. 

Here's the theatre full and ready for the performance.  I had never seen or read The Comedy of Errors before, but a quick synopsis was enough help to keep the two sets of twins, jealous wife, long-lost parents, conniving merchant, and concerned prince in order...more or less. 

   (Don't look at the dreadful hair - it was a long, windy day!)  We had such a wonderful day together.  It's rare enough for the three of us to spend a day together, let alone in London. 

St. Paul's, taken from in front of The Globe.

And so ends my British Isles Adventure.  It was an amazing trip, the memories of which I'll treasure for a long time.  Many thanks again to the family and friends who made it possible for my family to survive without me long enough to do this, and to my wonderful brother who invited me in the first place.  Thank you to you, my faithful readers, who have read along and encouraged me as I recounted my grand adventure.  Let's do this again.  Real soon.   

On Thursday, my next-to-last day in London, Katie set me on my way and I managed to get myself to St. Paul's Cathedral - even changing trains once along the way! - where I met Tom and the rest of the group.

I took a picture (forgetting for the moment all of the "No Picture" signs!) and was immediately reprimanded by a docent.  By then I was such a hardened tourist that I didn't even feel bad about it!

When we entered the cathedral, we were very happy to hear a choir rehearsing - beautiful music always enhances the experience of a beautiful cathedral.  As we wandered up the aisle, we saw the choir, standing on risers, and Tom recognized the conductor.  Lo and behold, the conductor was Anton Armstrong and the choir was from St. Olaf's, right here in Minnesota!  It turned out that they were doing a concert at 1 p.m., so we decided to hang out until then and enjoy the concert.  Probably the only time I'll get to hear the St. Olaf's choir live and for free! 

We got some lunch and sat on the steps of St. Paul's to eat it.  The little old bird woman was absent that day, so the pigeons made friendly overtures to the Americans, some of whom actually fed the darling little rats with wings. 

We went back into the cathedral (thankfully, they let us in again without paying!) and sat for half an hour and listened to the concert.  Heavenly, truly heavenly. 

When the concert ended and we descended to earth again, we headed off for the Tower of London.  Yes, London's most famous church and London's most famous prison all in one day.

Tower Bridge - technically outside the Tower of London, but still worth a photo, don'tcha think?

The ominous Traitor's Gate through which so many entered who never saw the light of freedom again.  How's that for melodrama?  Still, it is kinda, you know, like, creepy.

An "archer" firing from the top of a turret.  I thought the boys in particular would like that.

Inside the White Tower (the oldest part of the castle), they had a fascinating display of Henry VIII's armor - both battle and jousting - and of course, I took too long looking at all of that and had to hurry on.  Since I was there just four years ago, I felt less rush to see everything.  I did see a "new" tower which I hadn't seen before.  Just to be there and wallow in all that history was wonderful.  And every Beefeater gives a slightly different tour, so a visitor can learn more on each visit. 

This item, described by our Beefeater as "a coffeetable with a plastic pillow on it," was new since I was there before.  It sits on the spot where so many famous people were beheaded: Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, etc. 

When we finished at the Tower, Tom, Dean, Nancy and I took a cab to Liecester Square for dinner and a movie.  We sat on the patio at Apogee, a Morroccan restaurant.  The dinner was delicious and the company was excessively delightful.  After, we went to see "The Young Victoria."  It was a trifle inaccurate in its historical detail, but such a lovely movie that I could easily forgive that and thoroughly enjoy.  I'm afraid that it won't be coming out in theaters here in the U.S., but I hope to get a copy if it ever comes out on DVD on this side of the pond. 

So ended another lovely day in London. 

by John Updike

The breezes taste
Of apple peel.
The air is full
Of smells to feel-
Ripe fruit, old footballs,
Burning brush,
New books, erasers,
Chalk, and such.
The bee, his hive,
Well-honeyed hum,
And Mother cuts
Chrysanthemums.
Like plates washed clean
With suds, the days
Are polished with
A morning haze.

Last night we survived this year's Minnesota State Fair.  This being our third year, we felt as though we knew our way around a little better.  For example, we know exactly where both of the Sweet Martha's chocolate chip cookie stands are; the fastest way to get to the horse barn; where the carousel is; etc.  We still spent the largest part of our time standing in line for rides or food, but at least we didn't do a lot of dithering in between times.  And that counts for something when the rented stroller doesn't have a functioning belt and the three-year-old jumps out and heads down the street as soon as the stroller stops.  Even its disguise as a blue race car couldn't induce Sam to stay seated when the wheels weren't actually in motion. 

For the first time in a long time, I forgot my camera!  So, I have no pictures to share, but I will favor you with a list of all the food we bought along the way.  We share most things (except corn dogs; ick) so we all got a taste of these items:

pancake on a stick; walleye cakes; corn dogs (Micah, Johanna, Sam); brat with onion and peppers (Wm); fruit smoothies; roasted corn (yum!); fried alligator meat (tastes like chicken, only really chewy) with fritters; two different kinds of root beer; mini donuts; chocolate chip cookies; milk

Even with a coupon book, we spent about $100 on food!  We won't be eating out for another six months, but that's okay.  Our digestive tracts need time to recover.

As for rides, once again Johanna and Sam opted for the carousel, which I also had to ride since Sam is too small to go alone.  I think it's a scam, though, because they charged me for a ticket, too.  Anyway, William never could decide what to ride, so he just ate food and that suited him just fine.  Micah, though, found a daring and different ride.  I don't know what it was called, but he climbed up onto a trampoline, then was strapped into a harness attached to long bungy cords, the cords were pulled taut and Micah could jump.  Reeeeeeaaally high.  Each tramp had a worker there who helped the kids jump higher and Micah occasionally got so high that his smile faltered.  Otherwise, he was grinning the whole time.  He intended to do flips, but found it a more daunting endeavor once he was actually in there.  Maybe next year.  Even without flips it was an adventure! 

Our souvenir from the fair is a new yard stick!  Our current yard stick is one that came with the house and is missing inches 1 through 2 and 5/8ths, so it's nice to have an entire yard in our yard stick.

So, a good time, lots of fun memories and all that, but I'm glad it's done because, man, my legs ache!   

I realize that it has been quite some time since I posted my further adventures from May and now we're off on another!  Today we leave for the wild west of North and South Dakota!  When I return, I will finish the last two days of my European saga as well as share all the fascinating detail of our trip out west-ish.  Pa is loading up the wagon now, I've got the bags of flour and cornmeal ready to go, we're deciding what to leave behind, and then we'll be ready to go.  If you feel so inclined, please pray for us as we will are a couple o' gringos and are attempting to take four  young children camping in tents for four nights!  What's that phrase about God having pity on fools and children?  Well, we're covered then. 

Adios, amigos!

After we left Stratford, we made good time down to London.  Tom got all of the students checked into the guest house and then he and I descended into the underground world of The Tube.  We met Katie (our sister) at some big, famous station which I can't think of at the moment...no, not Paddington...Victoria, that was it!  ("The cloak room at Victoria station?" "Yes.  The Brighton line." "The line is immaterial.  Mr. Worthing, I confess I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have told me.  To be born-or at any rate bred-in a handbag, whether it had handles or not seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life which reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution.  And I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to?"  Pardon me.  I couldn't resist a reminder of The Importance of Being Earnest.)  Anyway, we chatted for a little while and then Tom headed back to where he and the others were staying while I went on with Katie to her place.  She rents a room in a charming old Georgian style townhouse, well, charming until one has to take luggage up several flights of stairs.  I can only imagine the fun she had moving in there. 

The next morning dawned in a manner befitting London: rainy.  But, nothing daunted, we boarded a train (Katie led, I followed!) and headed for Jane Austen country. 

The train stop is still some way away from Chawton and in nice weather we might have walked, but in the rain we opted for a cab.  When we got into the cab, we asked for "Chawton House."  The home of Jane Austen.  Right?  Um, no.  Chawton House was the home of her wealthy brother, Edward. 

I knew that.  Honest.  I did.  But it didn't really occur to me until the cab dropped us at the front door of this imposing house with no sign of touristy-type attractions which I had sort of expected.  (Not even the buttoned-up Brits will pass up a good marketing opportunity!)  In fact, the brass plaque by the door informed us that the house is now a private library, available by appointment only.  And presumably available only to Austen scholars, so while Katie and I are fans, we can hardly be considered Austen scholars.  A bit non-plussed, Katie and I wandered a bit and finally found a very friendly woman working in one of the outbuildings.  She kindly directed us back down the road we had just come up.  So, we girded our umbrellas and set out in the heavy Hampshire dew. 

Along the way we passed the church yard where the Austens worshiped (this was after her father died, so it's not where he served).

Cassandra and Mrs. Austen are buried in the churchyard.  I proposed going over to see, but Katie nixed the idea, preferring to reach our intended destination sooner rather than any later. 

We walked along the road, determined to enjoy the time despite the rain!  After all, Jane herself must have walked that way in the rain upon numerous occasions. 

We passed this sweet little cottage gate on the way.

At last we reached Chawton Cottage (which we should have noticed on our way past in the cab!).

Once we knew where we were going, we decided to eat our lunch.  Picnicking spots were limited by the rain, so we sat in the old bus stop amid the charming moss, puddles and cobwebs and had a lovely meal.  That done, we headed back to the cottage.  The usual entrance fee of 7 pounds was reduced to just 1 pound because they were in the midst of some work.  Never ones to be "penny wise but pound foolish" we were happy with this arrangement.  We took our time and enjoyed walking through the rooms which Jane knew so well and loved so much. 

I was there!

See?  I really was! 

This is a bit of Jane's garden.  In May it didn't have a lot of color yet, but was still lovely.

When we finished at the cottage, we went across the street to The Greyfriar for a cup of tea.  We spent the rest of the day visiting some friends of Katie's who live fairly close by.  They are a lovely couple and have been very kind to Katie.  Unfortunately, as I sat on their lovely couch in their lovely sitting room, exhaustion crept up on me and I fell asleep!  Right there in the middle of conversation!  I'm sure I'm an embarrassment to Katie - gauche American sister!  But the Tices were gracious and Katie seemed to forgive me (sorry, Katie!).  Trevor led Katie and me on a walking tour of their very tiny, very old little town - King John built a castle close by in the early 1200s.  Finally, they fed us dinner and we headed home to London. 

Another day of education and adventure done!  Plus, I got to spend it with my sister, so it was a really good day!

We left Edinburgh early the next morning.  Not as early as we had hoped because the bus driver, a wrinkled little chappie named Roy, had been given the wrong start time, but still early enough to be "early."  We drove and drove and drove some more until, at loooong last, we arrived in Stratford-upon-Avon. 

That's right, Stratford-upon-Avon, the mecca of Shakespeare lovers the world over.  The town I had longed to visit since I first fell in love with Master Shakespeare in Mr. Carson's 11th grade English class.  The town I had imagined visiting; sparing no expense; taking my time; drinking in the heady atmosphere; strolling along the Avon; napping under the trees as the old river slid past, as silent and wise as it was in Shakespeare's own day; sitting in the Holy Trinity church where Will and his family are buried to watch the light stream through the stained glass and fill the apse; strolling around town, past the schoolhouse where Will most likely attended, past the houses where his daughters lived; perhaps even, in my wildest dreams, attending a performance at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre there by the river.    

As with so many experiences this side of glory, the real life experience fell short of my dreams. 

We arrived at 4:30, worried that they might not even be allowing visitors into the birthplace any more.  I secretly though that to be so close and denied entrance would be too heart-breaking.  Better to not go at all.  But our intripid leader, Tom, hurried to the office and found that they were still allowing entrance!  Hooray! 

We toured the birthplace.  There isn't a lot to it, but they do have the master bedroom set up as though for the arrival of a new baby.  We all went through at a frantic pace but before leaving completely, I decided to turn back and savor the moment.  I stood and talked with the docent there and took in various details and enjoyed.  Finally, I heard Tom's frantic voice calling me.  Time to move on. 

From thence, we set out on a lightning quick tour of the town.  Tom took off at a pace he called brisk and the rest of us called sprinting.  One student, a rather tall young lady with long legs, was able to keep up Tom's "brisk" pace and the rest of us straggled along behind.  Here's how one student described it: “Next was our speed walking tour.  Dr. Copeland won, with Kat a close second.”  This description was amusing and quite apt.  We did see the sites, though.  It may have been over 30 minutes, but not by much. 

Along the river, rowboats named for Shakespeare's heroines.

Inside Holy Trinity church.  (The rest of the apse was under construction!)

Monument to Shakespeare, above his grave.

See?  I was there!  I really was!

We were able to stop by Anne Hathaway's cottage on our way out of town.  The cottage was closed by then, but we did get a glimpse of the gardens and the famous thatched roof.

So, the day did not match my idyllic dream, and yet I am thankful for the chance to get there at all.  This simply means that I still have reason to go back.  Some day I'll get back there and drag John along as I stroll and meander and nap and drink in and savor to my heart's content. 

You know how in life we reach certain milestones and think, "It's happened.  I've arrived."  Well, today, I feel as though I have reached a mothering milestone.  Today, I sorted through a bag of garbage - potato and carrot peelings, wet paper towels, moldering banana peels, soggy coffee grounds, you get the idea - to look for a napkin-wrapped retainer. 

Ah, yes.  They happen when you least expect it, these milestones. 

I love being a mom. 

(We did find the retainer.  The napkin protected it from the worst, but Johanna still scrubbed it up good before putting it back in her mouth.)