We don't swim in your toilet, so don't poop in our pool!

After a long break from the gym, I got back into my workout routine this week.  The ELC is a nice facility, with all of the usual amenities, including two pools.  The smaller one has a floor that can move up and down at the touch of a button.  


I got to see the moving floor in action one Saturday afternoon when Callie and a friend of hers were swimming in the larger pool.  The ground level seating area for the natatorium sits right next to the smaller pool, so I was hanging out there reading a book while Cal and her buddy entertained themselves for a while.  


All of a sudden, this older guy wearing an ELC shirt blows a whistle and tells everyone in the smaller pool that they need to get out now because it has been contaminated.  Everyone gets out of the pool and he throws a switch so that this alarm starts beeping and the floor of the pool starts inching its way towards the surface.  I'm sure everyone has heard of pools like this before and I found the following pic that resembles the set-up at ELC.  The school our girls attend actually has its own frou-frou pool with the fancy moving floor in the sports center.  You can see that the floor of the pool in the foreground has been raised.

Can you see the vents running along the right side of the pool?  I think it's cool that the rest of the pool water is sitting underneath this.  Now back to my little tale. The ELC guy gets the floor all the way to the surface so that there's less than a half-inch of water across the top.  He dons some plastic shoe covers and walks out to the middle of what was the center of the bottom of the pool to deal with the contamination... a big piece of poop!  Lots of parents with little ones still in diapers or pull-ups use this pool, the obvious source of the offending turd.  He removed it with a plastic baggie just like the folks you see walking dogs who have to clean up after them.  Then he sprayed it with some sort of disinfectant and went at it with a scrub brush.  Next he sprinkled it with something and wiped all this up with a big wad of paper towel. After this was accomplished, he lowered the floor and folks were swimming once again after about 25-30 minutes.  


Of course, this reminded me of the scene in "Caddyshack" where the kid tosses a Babyruth candy bar into the pool.  The swimmers see it and think it's "doodie" while the theme from "Jaws" is playing.  The pool is drained of water so it can be scrubbed, sterilized and disinfected.  Bill Murray's character is a disturbed Vietnam vet who spends his time as maintenance man trying to eradicate the golf course of Gophercong.  In the pool scene, he's all tricked out in a white hazmat suit with chemical mask, working on cleaning up the pool when he finds the offending "doodie".  Check it out by clicking on the link I included right below this - so funny!  


Caddyshack Pool Scene

Tour de Slow Pokes

On our spring break trip to Holland, we saw everybody and their dog riding bikes. Bitten by the biking bug, we ordered Cal a bike as soon as we returned from our spring break travels.  We had shipped over 3 bikes from Texas, so she was the only one without some wheels of her own.

Isn't it snazzy, with the silver seat?  Right now it's residing in the hallway area between the kitchen and office/laundry since it doesn't have a kickstand.  It seems to me that for £150 that little bit of essential metal would be included.  For those of you out there still converting the pounds to dollars, like me, this bike cost us $244.  For that kind of money, it seems like Lance Armstrong should come to the house and give us some pointers, right?  I've never been into the whole biking scene, so I'm sure this is just a drop in the bucket for a quality bike to those who are devotees of the sport.  We just wanted something for a 10-year-old to ride around the neighborhood.  

I know some people hate Wal-Mart, but I really wish we had that as an option for this bike purchase.  It took a week for the bike to arrive at our house in a box, as in requiring some assembly.  The one that cost us $244.  At Wal-Mart you pick out a good looking bike and get it fully assembled for around $100.  Don't I wish.  The husband, who had been in Texas for 8 days, arrived home to unpack and then put the bike together because he had promised Cal it would be ready to ride when she got home from school that afternoon.  Doesn't that sound fun, after a 9 hour flight?  Let the wrestling and cursing begin!

Most men don't read the directions, but my husband is pretty good about using them.  However, these were so poorly written that they weren't really helpful, so he was winging it and I was his trusty helper.  Since this bike didn't come with a kickstand, I got to stand there and hold it for him.  The back tire was in place but the front tire had to be attached.  And the handlebar.  Plus the front brakes.  Did I mention the seat and pedals loose in the box, too? 

So yeah, it took a while and there was the obligatory muttering, swearing and visions of putting it out at the curb for the garbage collectors while we concocted a lie for the kid that it was defective and we hadn't kept the receipt.  But we persevered and got it done.  I was gonna give it a test run in the driveway to make sure the gears changed correctly and brakes worked, but the big guy gave it a go.  I walked back into the house and missed the little show, when the seat gave way and the back tire pulled his shorts down.  

Check out my ride.  Pretty spiffy, huh?  It belonged to my mother-in-law (Hi, Rose!), but she gladly donated it to us.  I like the big ol' seat for my big ol' butt.  Yesterday after supper Cal wanted to go for a ride, so we pedaled around our neighborhood for about 30 minutes.  I had cooked breakfast for supper - sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs and pancakes.  It was tasty, but quite the heavy meal and we were F-U-L-L.  So we took off, staying on the left side of the road to go with the flow of traffic here in England.  The neighborhood is very leafy and it was a pleasant ride, with the temp in the 60s around 7:15 when we left the house.  Right now the sun isn't setting until almost 8:45, so the days are already getting long.  

Everything was fine until we got near the end of our ride and started down a road that allowed us to coast, which is great but you know that you're gonna have to pedal yourself back up afterwards.  With a belly full of heavy breakfast foods you're trying to work off.  Then there's the issue of my seat being a bit low for me and I felt like a bear on a tricycle performing with the circus, my knees up around my ears in danger of hitting the handlebars.  

We both got off our bikes and walked them up the steepest part of the hill, then Cal hopped on and since I couldn't just let her ride off by herself, I ended up "pumping" myself back up to the top of the hill with all that food bouncing around in my stomach.  Good times.

A Tuesday in May

There isn't much shaking here at Casa Fraser this week, other than the ants that are still appearing in droves.  I'll save my little ant rant for a bit later in the post.  


Yesterday I trotted Callie's homemade orange cupcakes to the school for her book project presentation.  Every month she has to read a different genre and then respond to literature in some way.  To translate that from teacher speak to layman's terms, she has to do a book project every month.  


Here in the land of checklists instead of grades - I know, so very kindergarten of them - I don't sweat it so much.  Next year she'll get back to numeric grades like she had in 2nd-4th in Texas.  And it wouldn't matter too much if they were giving out grades because the school doesn't have an online grade system in place so that I can monitor her progress.  


This was one huge advantage that our great Texas PUBLIC school district had over the international/American PRIVATE school here in England.  It's so much easier to be a hovering helicopter parent in the states, going online at will - every day, if you please - to see if the latest spelling test or science worksheet had been recorded, and what effect it had on the cumulative average.  I didn't fully appreciate the unlimited access until I had NO access.  But again, that checklist makes it hard to get up in arms with the kid or teacher if Cal isn't pulling all A's.  So yeah, I sit back and give minimal support to see what Cal can really do and let her make mistakes and learn from them with the knowledge that it's better this happen now rather than in middle school where it's more painful.  There is another child in our family that was probably given too much assistance and guidance when she was younger and it was much harder to wean her off this as she got older, though we did accomplish it.


Speaking of kids... It cracks me up how the girls have such a symbiotic relationship.  Woo-hoo, look at me remembering a 25 cent word to use today, which is just crazy because the older I get, the more my brain refuses to call up vocabulary.  I seem to get that tip-of-the-tongue phenomenon more often these days, where I can't retrieve something from memory.  My solution is to doggedly run through the alphabet in my head until I recall it.  The other day, I saw an actress on TV I recognized and it took me almost an hour to come up with her name.  Mind you, it's not as if I had this info to share with anyone.  I just hate being frustrated by this and refused to give up until it finally popped into my head.  By the way, it was Gillian Anderson who played Scully on the X-Files.  Remember that TV show - a bit weird at times but I always liked it, for some odd reason.  


Now that I've rattled about all sorts of things totally unrelated to the kid symbiosis...  Annie loves to have her picture taken and Callie loves to be the photographer.  However, they have recently figured out how to set the timer... like a couple of monkeys.  So one day after school last week they killed about 30 min out in the backyard trying to get a shot of them doing an in-air belly bump.  

Success!  Aren't they just silly little goobers?  The oldest one recently turned 16, but she happily goofs off with the 10-year-old.  When they were younger, I worried that the almost six year age difference would mean that they wouldn't enjoy each other.  I kinda figured that the older one would get into the usual teen diversions, maybe even a boyfriend, and never enjoy hanging out with the little one.  I'm glad to see this hasn't been the case, though they are pretty good at aggravating each other when the mood suits.  Look how green the garden (aka US backyard) is, and we haven't even had much rain lately.


I attribute this lack of rain as the cause for ants that have come marching through one of the many crevices in my 1930s character home.  They've set up shop in the flooring between the ground and first floors (aka US 1st and 2nd).  Thanks to my handy can of Raid! I've been able to stop them from getting into the shower and hallway that share a mutual wall upstairs, directly above the flooring where they've created base camp.  However, that has forced them all down so that they're escaping through one of the recessed lights that sits above my dining table between the kitchen and family room.  At first it was a trickle, not too bad though it seemed like a lot since so many of them had wings.  Imagine the fire ants in Texas flying - the makings for a good horror movie.  


Anyway, yesterday morning I'd had it up to here (I'm holding my hand about a foot above my head), so I decided to go all crazy Texan on the ants.  I tore off a piece of cling wrap and taped it to the ceiling so that it covered the recessed light where the ants were now coming out in a steady stream.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.  I had already spent several days vacuuming every imaginable surface downstairs for hours... 'nuff said.  By the end of the day, I had added a lot more tape so that none of the little suckers were gonna wiggle out of my homemade trap.  

Like all good ideas that include no forethought, done on the spur of the moment without any consideration as to the eventual consequences or effects, you can see the little ant farm I've created.  Last night there were maybe 100ish ants up there.  Overnight they decided it was time to vacate the premises and now look what I've created.  Luckily, the bug guy that came out Friday afternoon showed up at my door unannounced about an hour ago and was appalled at the number of ants in my little homemade trap.  I was initially thinking he might be horrified at what I had done, but he immediately got on the phone to the estate agent so the next step could be taken, which involves removing some cap stone off the corner of the garage, which is how they're getting into the house, so they can bring out the serious chemicals and, hopefully, rid us of ants for good.


It seems my redneck ant trap, now ant farm, has done its trick and we're getting assistance with the latest round of pests to breach the house.  I just wish I'd had a big old roll of duct tape to add that bit of Texas redneck flair to the whole thing.

Geographically Challenged

Some people aren't coordinated.  Others are poor spellers.  We have been blessed with a child that has one helluva time recognizing and remembering where places are on the planet.  


We thought this would improve when she took a geography class her freshman year.  However, a young coach taught it...  That coupled with a desire to socialize rather than really apply herself to the class content resulted in her not making any real gains with her geography skills.  She always pulled an A in the class, which can probably be attributed to her turning in work on time and having a positive attitude, which obviously can't be underestimated.  If they started giving out good grades for being a snappy dresser, having a flawlessy made-up face and spending at least an hour on your hair every morning before school, then my oldest daughter would be headed for an ivy league university.  


Based on past experiences, it has become a running joke that the oldest child will make all sorts of geography faux pas.  She's famous for mispronouncing place names, ethnicities, nationalities and languages.  Right after we moved to England, she was talking about a Norwegian girl she had met and asked, "That means she's from Norwegia, right?"  About six weeks ago, one of the younger daughter's friends was spending the night and we were gathered in the kitchen while I was cooking.  We were talking about going to Amsterdam for spring break and the 15-year-old asked me where it was.  The youngest daughter's little 4th grade buddy chimed in to tell her it was in The Netherlands before I had the opportunity to answer.


I wish I had thought to write down all of the geography funnies this child has made over the years.  We've gotten some good laughs out of her questions and blunders, which she always takes in her stride.  She doesn't mind when we chuckle and then correct her.  She realizes she has other subjects or interests where she excels, and isn't bothered by this area of core knowledge that continues to elude her.  Honestly, she's a bright girl that has always made really good grades, so it's not that she doesn't have the IQ to master this information.  I don't know why she's so stymied by geography, but it's a fact.  I wanted to record this latest gaffe before I forget it.


Yesterday when the girls got home from school, I was showing the high schooler her options for October travel week at the new school they'll attend beginning in August.  She can go with her peers to Poland, France or Germany on history tours.  Those sound great to me, but I thought she would get a lot out of the Romania service project - working with orphans.  Acceptance to the service project requires that she write an essay, so I was showing her the requirements for this as well as her options in the other three countries.  As she started to look over the information, my cell phone had an incoming message from her current school.  I opened it up and was skimming the content, murmuring about them giving us a heads-up that the health teacher would be discussing sexually transmitted diseases like chlamydia in class next week.  


The oldest daughter heard me and asked, "What?"  I then said chlamydia again since it was the last word I had muttered, and I meant to follow up with an explanation about what I had just read. However, before I could get that far, the geographical genius asked me, "Where's that?"  It was SO very tempting to tell her it was just to the north of Gonorrhea and Syphilis.

It's a bird, it's a plane... it's an ant!

Just when you think it's safe, that you can breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy the late spring weather, you get hit with yet another pest.  Our little fly in the ointment for the month of May has just put in its appearance.


A couple days ago, Callie and I noticed maybe 5-6 ants scurrying along the wall in the master bathroom to the shower.  We haven't had much rain lately, so I figured they were out looking for something to drink.  I purchased a can of ant spray at the store and killed them.  Unfortunately, that didn't take care of the problem.  We saw some more that evening in the same spot, plus we found a few in the bottom of the shower.  Once again, I hit them with the spray and washed them down the drain.  


This morning Callie was in the master bath borrowing my hairbrush and decided to check the shower for any further ants.  She opened up the glass door, sucked in a big breath and announced, "Oh my gosh, mom, hurry up and come see what's in the shower."  With the luck we've had - ladybugs, birds, foxes and now ants - I was a bit apprehensive.  And rightly so... there were no less than 50ish ants in the shower and most of them had WINGS!  

The world-wide web is terribly handy, but will also give you nightmares.  You know how it goes, you're not feeling well and type your symptoms into Google, which then pulls up a diagnosis like the plague or leprosy.  See the handy little diagram I found when I searched "ants with wings"?  I don't know which one I prefer - the ants or termites.  For the sake of the homeowners, I hope it's the former because if it's the latter then they're in for it.  Hmmm, we're living here so that means they have to foot the bill while we have to live through the process.  Do you think that means we'll get a break on our rent this month?


But wait, it gets better.  All week I thought Annie and Callie had been eating a snack at the big table, the one that sits directly beneath the master bath in the area on the first floor between the kitchen and family room.  This morning I discovered a bunch, as in maybe a hundred dead AWW (ants, or possibly termites, with wings) behind the master bedroom door where it leans against the hall wall.  The light bulb in my head finally flipped on and I zipped downstairs for a closer look at the dining table.  Sure enough, there is a recessed light right above the spot where I thought I was seeing snack crumbs.  It turns out that the crumbs are actually bits of the plasterboard around the light... or their hatched out empty egg casing thingies.  ICK!  And there were AWW crawling around the light fixture.  EWWWW!  


So yeah, the lettings manager for our house received an email from me this morning asking that she ring up the pest service yet again - the third go 'round - so they can come out and take a look at the situation.  I need some sort of pesticides that cause mutant babies because the ants have gotta go. 


Right now I'm envisioning the whole house draped in one of those tents they use for serious fumigation.  Our neighbor back in Texas, the one that lived in the restored original farmhouse on our street, had to have this done several times over the course of the four years we were there to keep her house clear of termites.  I hope the little suckers haven't eaten away at all the subflooring so that we're just a couple showers away from falling through to the area below.  Just the thought of that seriously BUGS me!

Obviously Our Invitation Got Lost in the Mail

After two separate spring break trips, we were tired.  The laundry room was filled with dirty clothes and we hadn't completely finished unpacking yet.  However, that didn't stop us from rolling out early on Friday, April 29, so we could hightail it into London to partake of the festivities surrounding the royal wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.  Since they had to cap their guests at 1900 and we were a bit farther down the list, we decided to brave the streets with the other 600,000 folks turned loose in London for the big celebration.


Few folks enjoy crowds, but since the husband really loathes them, it was inevitable that he opt out, so we made it a ladies only trip.  We caught the 9:17 southwest commuter train out of Walton-on-Thames and changed trains at Clapham Junction (which just sounds like some sort of sexually transmitted disease, right?) so we could roll into Victoria station by 10:00.


We met up with a friend and her husband who had another couple in tow, so we began walking towards Buckingham Palace and the mall.  Along the way, we stumbled across The Goring (see the purple banner) where Kate Middleton and her family spent the night before the wedding.  The police had the street blocked since cars would be picking them up to get them to Westminster Abbey. In addition, there was white tenting set up over the entrance so that Kate's dress could be kept secret until she alighted from the car at the Abbey before walking down the aisle.

After stopping for a couple shots, we walked a bit further and found a spot to wait along the route the wedding party would travel on their way to Westminster.  We were able to get a front row spot, which in this case meant right up against the metal barrier they had set up along the roadway.  You can see ones just like it across the street from us.

The folks pedaling by on bikes with the usual traffic were hilarious.  The crowd would cheer for them and it rippled down the street.  They all seemed to think it their duty to smile and give their best royal wave as they zipped by on two wheels.  One guy took it a step further by holding out his cell phone with one hand while waving to us with the other and recording it all the while.  We also saw several of the typical black London taxis drive by with decoration for this momentous occasion.

In the first picture, you can see the children - little bridesmaids and pages - being chauffeured to the service.  They were so cute, with their little faces practically pressed to the glass, smiling and waving at all of their newfound adoring fans lining the road.  I hope they're old enough to remember their participation in this bit of royal history.  I've made the second picture larger than usual so hopefully you can see where Kate is sitting.  I was hoping for a fabulous shot because I had an unobstructed view of the car passing in front of us.  However, there was a very short and persistent Spanish-speaking woman that had wedged through and sandwiched me between her body and the very unforgiving barricade as she attempted to get her own picture of Kate.  It's stuff like this that really gets my goat.  We stood there in that very spot for about 40 minutes, a fabulous spot to get the perfect picture as the car with Kate slowly drove past.  Then this woman appears at the last minute and feels no qualms about squeezing the breath out of me in her bid to get a picture, too, and thus making it all but impossible to get my own decent shot.  At least Annie and particularly Lynn got a better picture since they weren't getting jostled and squished.  If you look closely, you can just make out the top of Kate's head over the top of the chauffeur's hat and see her white veil just to the right of the driver.


Once Kate's car cleared this area and the crowd began to disperse, we split with Lynn and friends to head out towards Buckingham Palace.  What we had no way of knowing at this point was the roads leading up to the palace from the side and rear were closed and properly barricaded.  Therefore, we more or less ended up walking in a circle and not making any progress.  

  
Here we are with the crowds along the side of the palace - so close yet so far away with all those barricades in our way.  However, we did have a bit of luck at this point because it's down this side of the palace where you'll find the royal mews and we were fortunate enough to see all of the following as they paraded past us on their way to the Abbey for the ride back at the conclusion of the service.  

It was a beautiful sight, everything all polished and shiny for their time in the spotlight as the world watched.  My favorite carriage is the handsome one in the 4th picture because a crown sits atop it - what a great detail!


We knew to expect tremendous crowds, but the youngest daughter still found it daunting and a bit scary.  Folks were jockeying for position or to get on down the sidewalk for a better spot, so it was shoulder to shoulder virtually everywhere.  A time or two I had to stop dead in my tracks to keep us from being mowed down from the people behind us.  There was an especially annoying group of people from some country where they don't teach manners because Cal got hemmed in and squeaked in protest.  It was at this point that I turned to the bald-headed rude dog with limited English skills and told him to back off and not run over my child.  I added my best teacher evil eye to the command, whereupon he shrugged like the middle schoolers I once taught and just kept going.  Obviously he thought manners and mature, adult appropriate behavior weren't the order of the day and I decided to just let it go since I didn't want to join the handful of folks who would be arrested for their unruly conduct.

See what I mean - it was crowded as all get out and since St. James Park was closed because it was full to the brim by this time, we had no place left to go except home.  

See how close we were, alongside the Palace?  Granted, the second shot I zoomed in to get the monument in front of the Palace, but the first shot is actual distance from that corner where the barricade stopped our progress towards the front of the palace.  After spending about 30 min trying to skirt around the barricades and get closer, we ended up on this side street where I had good views of the backs of heads.  We did get to see the coaches bringing all of the VIP wedding guests back to this side entry of the Palace for the reception Queen Elizabeth hosted right after the ceremony.  Unfortunately, we weren't close enough to have a good laugh at some of the more outrageous hats and fascinators worn by the guests.  Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice, we're talking about you.  Maybe the queen will pay for the two of them to get a stylist so they won't embarrass themselves so publicly at the next official royal function.

And now the sad part of our story.  You know those barricades that kept us from scooching around to the front of the palace into that horseshoe they had kept blocked off up to this point?  The ones we stood behind for at least an hour, having to breathe in second hand smoke and miscellaneous body odor while daughter Callie joined in the chorus of the kids around us wanting to go?  I did the old countdown for about 30 minutes and people were starting to work their way back out, away from the barricades, which seemed the sane thing to do since we had stood there cooling our heels for such a long time with no indication of when or if we might be allowed to move forward.  So, of course, about 15 minutes after we left everyone in the area where we were standing were allowed into that prime spot in front of the palace, in front of the folks who had camped out the night before so they could have a front row seat for the highly anticipated balcony kiss.  If we had held out for just a bit more, we would have been in a prime spot to witness not one but two kisses right there in front of our faces.  Auuuughhhh!

On the walk back to Victoria to catch the commuter train back home, we passed by the House of Fraser department store.  It's not high end like Nordstrom's in the states, but I would compare it to Dillard's.  In the window they had this huge Union Jack framing a card with well wishes to the prince and his future princess, so we stopped for one final picture.  It has both girls, the date, what was happening and our last name.  If I come down with the old-timers disease as I age, then I'll have this extra bit of information to jog my lapsed memory.


The girls and I took some wonderful pics, created fabulous memories together about this little bit of British history and will be able to tell the next generation about how we were there.  If this is any indication as to what we can expect at the Olympics next summer, I can hardly wait.

Bath, AKA spring break week two

We arrived home from Holland on Friday, washed clothes, repacked our bags and took off for our second spring break trip a couple days later.  I successfully drove us to Bath without jumping any curbs, driving in the wrong direction down a one-way street or putting the husband/kids out along the side of the road for crimes like not checking the tom-tom route before we left the house and misdemeanors along the lines of wanting to stop at every service area for another Krispy Kreme glazed doughnut or Starbucks frappuccino.  


I'm definitely not someone who enjoys a leisurely vacation, or at least not the getting there part of the trip.  I like to board a flight at the crack of dawn or drive 12 hours with just a single pit stop.  My husband and girls know better than to guzzle down a whole soda or bottle of water on a road trip.  Once we reach our destination, THEN the vacation will officially begin.  

Skipping hotels and going the flat rental route, I found a great 3/2 townhouse that was built in the 1700s.  I love how they built everything vertically back then.  The ground floor contained a single car garage and kitchen.  The first floor (what we call second floor in the US) had a living area and bedroom with ensuite bath.  The top floor above that contained two further bedrooms and a family bath.  Living in this home would get you lots of good exercise.  Speaking of exercise, we walked across this picturesque bridge, the Pulteney Bridge, every day on our way into Bath.


Our townhouse was located right off Pulteney Street, a major thoroughfare that leads straight into the city of Bath.  The picture above was taken from a boat on the Avon River, not THE Avon associated with Will Shakespeare.  On our lazy tour down the river, we learned that there are many rivers named Avon in England and that the word Avon actually means river.  That seems a bit like naming a street street, but who am I to question the little quirks of the English language.  

This second picture was taken looking in the opposite direction that we traveled on the boat, away from the bridge.  You can just see the seagulls hanging out on the lip of the spillway, getting a drink of fresh water.  The river floated along at a gentle pace, but our boat's tour guide let us know that in the winter the level of the river typically rises anywhere from 4-8 feet.  That certainly reminds me of some flooding we've seen in the Texas Hill Country, with the waters of Cibolo Creek flooding roadways.

The picture above is the abbey at Bath.  It's a beautiful old sanctuary that, like so many other places in England, has been built upon an even older original structure.  If you look carefully on both of the towers rising on either side of the main door, you can just make out little ladders carved into the stonework.  Angels are seen ascending the ladder to heaven.  I can only assume that the ones descending the ladder are not headed to paradise.  Maybe the stonemason who created this part of the exterior ornamentation is telling us to choose wisely in this life so we'll reap our rewards in the next.

Adjacent to the abbey you will find the Roman Baths.  It's amazing to me that we were walking all over something that was established in 43 AD, in the years following the crucifixion of Jesus.  The Romans discovered these thermal springs and built extensive baths on this site.  In one area you can see bubbles making their way to the surface and steam rising off the warm waters.  Annie put her hand in the green waters you see above, told us it was indeed warm and then promptly asked for an antibacterial wipe.

Many of the original structures the Romans built have been excavated and you can see how they would have been used in ancient times.  In the first picture, you can see the original bricks the Romans used to frame the spot where the spring's flow is channeled into the baths.  It has a reddish-orange coating from the iron found in the water that has been diverted over that same spot for almost 2000 years.  In the second picture, you can see how the Romans provided underfloor heating to the various bathing chambers.  The little mounds - stacks of tiles - provide a honeycomb for the stones that would have been placed atop it.  Steam or smoke would have woven beneath this subfloor heating system called hypocaust.  Youngest daughter Callie has been studying the ancient Celts and Romans in 4th grade, so she told us all about it.  In the cold and damp climate that is an English winter, this is how the Romans kept their homes warm.

We decided to take a Mad Max afternoon tour on our last day in Bath.  It came highly recommended in the Rick Steves guidebook for England.  After a scenic drive through the twisty, winding hills in this part of England that made me feel a bit woozy and half carsick, our first stop was Lacock Village.  This charming settlement of several streets dates back to the 13th century and has remained largely untouched over the centuries.  The structures consist of limewashed, half-timbered and stone houses, with the last one built in the 1800s.  During the Middle Ages, Lacock became a prosperous and thriving town through its wool industry.  Nowadays it's a sleepy little tourist village that has served as a set for many period films, as well as the Harry Potter series (third picture above).  You won't find a Starbucks here and wouldn't want to, because it would certainly spoil its quaint historic appeal to the herds of visitors like us that roam its streets every year.

The second stop on our afternoon tour was at Stonehenge.  It sits at the top of a hill on the Salisbury Plain and it was VERY windy up there.  A couple roads converge at this point and just driving by in your auto would provide an excellent view of the stones.  They're taller than you think, though it is all roped off and you can't get right up next to them.  I was amused at the sheep grazing to the outside of the roped off walkway we used to circle the stones.  We all know that the stones have something to do with the calendar, particularly the solstice.  It's still a mystery as to who built Stonehenge and how they got some of the stones to this location from over 100 miles away.  This seems like child's play compared to the pyramids in Egypt, but is still a stunning sight to behold.  I shivered as the audio guide mentioned the slaughter stone, which sounds like something I wouldn't particularly have wanted to witness or take part in several thousand years ago.  


We had a very relaxing trip to Bath and enjoyed seeing some new sights in England.  However, we made sure to return on Thursday, April 28, so we wouldn't miss the hoopla surrounding Will and Kate's nuptials.  My next blog post will be about our adventures in London the day of the royal wedding.