Earthquakes and Tea Cakes

Yesterday we awoke to a gloriously sunny morning, not a cloud in sight. Over coffee, Jamie and I discussed how restlessly we had slept. We'd both been startled from sleep by a huge bang and then on and off again by what sounded like people up and about in the house. I got up once to investigate and encountered Jack up to use the loo, but nothing else unusual. The mystery unsolved, we set about our day. Jamie went off to work in his pajamas (we have casual Wednesdays here) in our bedroom/office and I decided to head to town centre for some shopping and browsing before my knitting group. As I tidied the kitchen I noticed through the window that many of the daffodils in the garden had lifted their little golden heads, as eager to soak up the sun as I was.

After arriving downtown, I encountered a sale rack in one of my favourite stores and slipped into the fitting room. While admiring myself in the mirror, I overheard a group of women discussing the earthquake that had struck our fair isle with a magnitude of 5.3. It was felt all the way to Norway! It was the talk of the town. From every news agent the headlines screamed of the first quake to have hit Britain in over 25 years. It was the kind of thing we'd expected in California, but who knew they hit here? I didn't even have my earthquake kit ready. I headed to York's central square and noticed that many of the cafes had set up tables and chairs out on the pavement. Considering this an invitation, I put in my order and pulled out my book. I sat quite contentedly, talk of the quake swirling about, sipping my coffee and munching my tea cakes.
P.S. It should also be mentioned that when the kids got home from school, Coleson told us he'd set his alarm for 2 am to get up and watch a basketball game on t.v. The "noises in the night" mystery solved, we banned all future middle of the night sporting events (well, most of them...).

Day to Day: Morning Rituals

While we've been blogging about all sorts of special trips and adventures, most of our time is characterized by the same quotidian rituals that characterize life at home: getting ready for school, days at school, kids' practices and concerts, grocery shopping, etc (oh--and washing dishes by hand!). But one of the treats of being abroad is to inhabit these sorts of mundane rhythms just a bit differently. So I thought some might be interested in some occasional glimpses into daily rhythms in York as they unfold here on Markham Crescent (our humble abode is pictured, right).

Mornings look a bit different here than they do at home, largely because all the schools start later--and because we're all fighting over one bathroom! When I have to be at the office, I roll out of bed early to squeeze in a shower before the rush begins. Then Grayson and Coleson shout and fight about which one of them is going to get out of bed first--beginning at 7:40am. (Back home, they caught the bus at 7:15am! So this is one part of England they're enjoying.) Gray and Cole throw on their Joseph Rowntree ("JoRo") uniforms (at right) and then head down for breakfast. By this time, Maddie and Jack have been added to the mix. The boys leave at 8:20am to catch the city bus that takes them just over two miles to school (they prefer to walk home in the afternoon). With their "YoZone" cards they can ride the bus for 50p. Maddie and Jack's school is much closer so they head out around 8:30, walk around the corner to meet some friends, and then it's just a couple of blocks to Park Grove.

By this time the silence inside the house is still ringing in our ears, so Deanna and I enjoy our own morning ritual before launching into the day. This is one of my favourite parts of the day. Since the house doesn't have a perk coffee machine, we are now zealous converts to the joys of French press coffee--dark and rich. And since there's no half-and-half cream here, Deanna and I substitute the indulgence of "single cream." This decadence is then topped off with a tasty bite to break our fast: for me, this is usually a little Devon scone with clotted cream and a dollop of jam; for Dee, it's a piece of yummy brioche (bread with chocolate chips). We watch the quail outside our window, listen to the bells of the Minster, and then head into the day, blessed.

All Aboard the Hogwarts Express!

The beautiful weather continued this half-term so we stole away another afternoon and enjoyed a wonderful day with our new friends, the Jakemans who have been such a blessing to us. Maddie has the Jakeman triplets in her class: Ellie, Beth, and Tom. We quickly learned that they were Christians and they quickly invited us to church at York Evangelical--despite the fact that this meant shuttling the 6 of us there each week since it's too far to walk! They always do so with a smile. The first Sunday they had us back for lunch and before we knew it, it was five'o-clock!

So Faith and Alastair suggested a wonderful adventure: driving to Pickering to catch the North York Moors steam train that chugs through the valley in the moors. Word has it that this was one of the trains and sites that was used to film the Hogwarts Express in Harry Potter (though word also has it that every steam train in England makes the same claim).We took it north to a little village called Goathland (near the not-to-be-found Roman Road we mentioned earlier). There we disembarked and enjoyed a beautiful hike through the hills and woods (despite that it began with me promptly falling--quite spectacularly--in the mud).
We found a couple benches beside some laid back sheep who didn't seem to mind our presence and there, in the sunshine, enjoyed our picnic lunch.

We then picked up the path again to Grosmont where we caught the return train which chugged us back to Pickering. The day wrapped up with tea and hot chocolate in the toasty lounge of the White Swan Inn--warm fellowship with wonderful friends.

Remembering Sophie Sept. 18, 2005 - Feb. 15, 2007

As if we could forget her. Big brown eyes, fly away hair. Precious, sweet, beloved. We miss her, and wonder how big she would be. Would she be a chatter box or still quietly sucking her thumb. We wait, as those with hope, knowing that one day, we will see her again. In the mean time, we pray for God's comfort and strength. We receive it often through the kind words and the embrace of family and friends. We pray especially today, for Luke, Jen, Bailey and Zac. May you feel our love from across the miles and know our hearts our linked with yours.

Robin Hood's Bay

On our second day of adventuring, we headed back to the coast to a little bay nestled between Whitby and Scarborough. Again, it was brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm. We aimed to get there at low tide and we were not disappointed. As we descended into the tiny fishing village, we were charmed by the sheer beauty of the steep cliffs. We headed down to the beach and combed through the tide pools where we discovered a few anemones and some small snail-like creatures. some people who were collecting them informed us they were called periwinkles and that they make delightful escargot. The kids were a little repulsed by the thought of eating them! We lingered for about an hour and then headed back towards the village to get some chips. By the time we had finished eating, a sea fret had arisen, and the beach was completely hidden from view. It was amazing how quickly it had come up.

Our tummies full, we got back in the car and headed out to the moors, in search of the Roman road we'd seen on the map. We exited the main highway, into a little hamlet called Goathland, stopping often to allow the local sheep to cross the road.The kids had us laughing when they rolled the windows down and began bleating at them. It must have been a pretty good impression, since the sheep would look right over at them. Following the signs, we continued into the hills, parked the car and then proceeded on foot. We were not prepared for hiking through the muck and the kids pointed out that we really needed farm shoes (I think they meant rubber boots!). We wandered a bit, crossed over the river, mingled with a few of the local sheep, (none of whom could point us in the right direction) but the Roman road was not to be found. We decided we would come better prepared next time.

Auto Adventure in the Peak District

It is "half-term" across all of England--a week-long school break that sends children and their families scrambling for things to keep busy. Deanna found an outstanding deal on a car rental so we've "hired" a mini-MPV (basically a compact mini-van) for the week to do some day and afternoon trips. This meant trying to recall how to shift a stick with my left hand, and getting used to being on the other side of the car and the other side of the road. (It also required getting used to Deanna's squeaks, squawks, and iron-clad grip on my arm as sitting on the left-hand side seems to induce an automotive vertigo for her. (OK, OK, maybe I was tending to hug the shoulder a bit tight at first!)

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous here (apologies to those of you still digging out in GR): sunny, warm, and dry. So on Saturday we set out on a tour of the country just west of York, a bit south of Manchester. This first involved a pilgrimmage to the little village of Holmfirth which is a bit of a knitters' mecca since it is home to Rowan wool. (We couldn't stretch a dollar far enough to actually buy anything, but I think Deanna enjoyed just seeing the wool in its natural habitat.) After a fun picnic there, we set off south into the "Peak District," a region right in the middle of England with rolling hills, lots of trees, caves, and more. It was a treat. Here's a few pictures with commentary.

Dee and the kids, looking back across the valley toward Holmfirth.We stopped in one of the many little villages and market towns that dot the slow, winding roads through the peak district. This one had a lovely town square where we sat and enjoyed a coffee. The kids spied an Oxfam store (a "charity shop" like a Goodwill) so we browsed the books and found some deals on a couple kids' books. After ice cream, Jack curled up on this bench with his "Horrible History" book about the Stormin' Normans who came to England with William the Conqueror. We kept pinching ourselves that we could be sitting in a sunny green park in our shirtsleeves--in February! (Thank you global warming! ;-)Though I usually consider all driving to be a version of a NASCAR race, the goal of which is getting from point A to point B as quickly as possible, the wending byways of the Peak District discourage that. So after some "animated conversations" about some "navigational challenges" (OK, OK: I did take the wrong exit!), we just took a leisurely pace and enjoyed stopping off at all kinds of view points and pretty spots. This one had a lovely gurgling brook with a tiny waterfall, with sheep grazing the hillside across the way.They've climbed so high you can barely see them, but this is Coleson and Jackson imitating the sure-footed sheep we saw all day long. Just before dusk we made it to the village of Castleton, which boast a number of caverns. This one was called "The Devil's Arse"! The ruins of a castle were perched on the left hill, and up inside the gorge there were flocks of black birds hovering and constantly cackling. It all felt rather Hitchcockesque. After this it go dark quickly so we made our way home through Sheffield and back to York.

Shrove Tuesday & Ash Wednesday

Lenten greetings, all. We observed the beginning of Lent in a special way. On Shrove Tuesday, which in Canada (and elsewhere?) we know as "Pancake Tuesday" (that's about as wild as the carnival gets in Canada!), we enjoyed indulgent pancakes before launching into the austerity of Lent. Turns out "pancakes" here are more akin to crepes. And Deanna made some absolutely scrumptuous pancake/crepes for dinner (with "bangers" on the side). I was all for it as it meant I basically got to have dessert for the maincourse: crepe-like pancakes covered with nutella, fresh whipped cream, and chocolate chips, then rolled up and drizzled with just a touch of chocolate syrup. Sounds like mardi gras to me!

Then on Wednesday Deanna and I attended an Ash Wednesday service at the Minster based on the penitential service in the Book of Common Prayer: a service which is simple but moving. We both noted, however, that in secularized Britain, walking around all day with ashes on your forehead does make one a bit conspicuous!