Grandma came up to my parents' house to share Christmas with us yesterday. She brought the ham and a pumpkin pie, to accompany my mother's green beans, applesauce, mashed potatoes and crescent rolls. We prayed and ate, and then retired to the living room to sit in front of the fire with our coffee and give Grandma her gifts.
Grandma told me a story yesterday about her grandmother Mary Worden, who also made Kuchen, like my husband's grandmother. Mary Rodgers and her brothers and sisters were orphaned as children and separated, sent to live with and work for different families. Mary was sent to a family in Indiana. Eventually she ended up working as a cook in Randolph, NY. She grew up and married, and never knew what became of her brothers and sisters.
When Grandma was preschool age, her family lived in Orchard Park, NY. Her father worked for a man paving sidewalks and driveways. This man's name was Will Rodgers. Noticing that the spelling of Rodgers was the same, Grandma's father asked Will Rodgers if he had any sisters. The two men compared backgrounds and discovered the connection.
Grandma's father was able to bring Will Rodgers to Belmont, NY, where Mary (now Mary Worden) was living, and the long-lost brother and sister were reunited again. Eventually, through Will, Mary discovered the rest of her brothers and sisters were all living in western New York and she got reaquainted with each of them, including Fanny, who sold canaries - birds known for their singing - two for ten dollars, out of a room in her house. It was during the Depression and no one was opening shops.
Grandma also told us of the time when women had recently secured the right to vote, and Grandma's entire family piled in the car so that her father could drive her mother to the town hall in Orchard Park to cast her vote. Grandma remembers her father giving instructions to her mother the entire ride there, on how the process will work, how the machines are used, and exactly who she should vote for.
The third story that Grandma shared with us was after I asked her what her earliest Christmas memory was. It is a sad memory. She doesn't remember much about Christmas at home, but she remembers being in school, and her teacher gave her a poem to recite for the class, titled "A Christmas Dolly." The teacher encouraged Grandma to bring in her favorite doll as a prop for when she gave the recitation. Grandma didn't have a doll. So the teacher had another girl bring hers, and Grandma held onto that doll while reciting the Christmas poem for her class. She remembers holding on so tightly to that doll, she didn't want to ever let go of it.
I asked Grandma later while opening presents about quilting. I think that quilting is something I would like to learn to do from her, like caning chairs. I haven't really had the chance to take up caning chairs since I moved 40 minutes away and haven't been having regular visits with her. Also, the materials required to cane chairs are less easily come by. It's not the season for garage and estate sales, where I could easily find old chairs that need seats. However, in the meantime, while I still have hopes of learning to cane chairs from Grandma, I could take up a winter activity - quilting - and learn that from her. So I asked Grandma how she would recommend learning quilting, by machine or by hand? "Oh, as far as I'm concerned," she said, "quilting is done by hand." She has always quilted by hand. She recounted the story of how she learned to quilt. She was in grade school, in a combined fourth-fifth-and-sixth grade class, and one day they were separated by gender and all the boys were told they would learn to build desks, and all the girls were told they would learn to sew a quilt. She went home and practiced, and her aunt saw her quilting without a thimble. Her aunt insisted that she use a thimble, and though at first she felt it was impossible, now she says she can never quilt without one. Grandma has, upstairs in her late-1800s house, a wooden quilting hoop that she has used to make many of her quilts by hand. She said that so many people use machines nowadays, and the results might be more perfect and uniform, but the best quilts have imperfections and are the work of someone's hands. I believe her. I want to learn how to quilt - by hand.
I had picked out a very special Christmas gift for Grandma this year to be from Ryan and me - a hand carved sculpture of Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus, made from solid olive wood, from Bethlehem. Like I've said in previous chapters, I'm not sure where Grandma stands spiritually, and I care deeply about her relationship with the Lord. I picked out this piece because I know she didn't already have a creche, and I know she loves hand crafted works of art. I'm hoping it will cause her to think just a little bit more about the story of Christ's birth. I included a small card with it telling her how much I love her and love spending time with her, and I told her that I was writing a story for her about what Christmas means to me. This story that I will write for her will hopefully communicate God's love and the gospel message in a clear way so that she will at least know where I stand. I've been burdened by never sharing my beliefs with her. How do you witness to your own grandmother, who has lived so much longer than you, who has experienced so much more than you, who is so much wiser than you? I don't hope to "convert" her myself, I know it's God who changes people's hearts and turns them towards Him. But I do feel a responsibility to share the message of Jesus with her.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Tea and Fruitcake
It has been about a month since we have visited my grandma. Today on the way home from church, I called to set up a visit with her. I have to call now; she was getting confused and making Sunday dinners for us even when we told her we'd just be coming over for tea in the afternoons. A young voice - my mother's - answered Grandma's phone with "Tanner's", and I was momentarily thrown off by the contrast to the smoker's voice I'd been expecting. She put Grandma on the phone.
"Hi Grandma! How are you?"
"I'm good, how are you?"
"Good! We were wondering if we could set up a tea time with you today."
"A tee time? What was that?"
"We were wondering if we could come visit you today."
We worked out the details and hung up; it was after I hung up that I realized how the phrase "tea time" might have sounded like we were inviting Grandma out for a round of 18 holes on this sunny but cold November afternoon. After a lunch at Ryan's house, of chicken pot pie casserole, pickle relish, leftover cranberry bread from Thanksgiving, and apple sauce, with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for dessert, and some reading/watching football/snoozing on the couches, we headed back into town to Grandma's house.
I didn't notice the charcoal shutters hung on the windows, but I did notice her new back door. It was white with a double-paned glass window, and looked solid and new and much warmer than the old door. We went in, and she was down in the Keeping Room, watching the football game. She had three teacups and a plate of sliced fruitcake set out on the dining room table for us. We shed our coats, gloves and scarves and sat down to tea with her.
She pointed out the basalm Christmas wreath on her front door. It's made with real branches. Every Christmas her oldest son David and his wife Sandy send her a wreath from the L.L. Bean catalog.
Conversation with Grandma these days is a lot lighter and less reminiscent of the old days now. Ryan is with me, and we're only having tea: two factors that don't lead me into the tell-me-of-the-old-days questioning. But she poured our black tea into the teacups and we took the slices of fruitcake, which was studded with pecans and red and green candied cherries. We chatted about work and our apartment and other things. She has taken to volunteering at the nursing home my grandfather was at, because she had met so many people and made so many friends while he was kept there. Unfortunately, her first assignment as a volunteer worker was in the gift shop, which she doesn't like at all. "I don't want to be up there selling chocolate bars; I want to work with people," she says. Tomorrow she has an interview for a different position at the nursing home, hopefully one that will get her away from the candy bars and into the paths of people.
We talked about caning chairs; her front porch is crammed with chairs of all shapes and sizes, waiting to be restored. She had just finished a beautiful chair downstairs in the Keeping Room, with a delicate cane called carriage cane, so delicate you had to put varnish on the seat when it was finished to give it extra strength. She diluted the varnish with "mineral spirits" - a testament to the amazing things she has lying around her old house. She showed the chair to us, showed us where she took it apart and repaired the broken bits with glue, refinished the wood, and the underside of the caning. The chair is beautiful.
We didn't stay long this time, and as we were standing by the back door getting ready to leave, she pointed out the new door to us and the cool feature it has: blinds that are inside the double-paned windows, which are controlled by a slider to the right and can be lowered and lifted and opened and closed, all within the glass panes. She always has a knack for things that are quite practical and useful, but not without also being aesthetically pleasing, beautiful.
She wanted to know if I was going to "do any baking this year". I'm tickled by that question- by the idea of planning for a year's baking or even a season's baking. To me it seems quaint. She wanted to give me an extra bag of chocolate chips she had got on sale recently and wouldn't be able to use this winter. She couldn't find them, though.
We said our goodbyes and headed out the nice shiny new back door, crunched the gravel under our feet on our way to the car, and drove off. She waved to us from the window, as usual.
"Hi Grandma! How are you?"
"I'm good, how are you?"
"Good! We were wondering if we could set up a tea time with you today."
"A tee time? What was that?"
"We were wondering if we could come visit you today."
We worked out the details and hung up; it was after I hung up that I realized how the phrase "tea time" might have sounded like we were inviting Grandma out for a round of 18 holes on this sunny but cold November afternoon. After a lunch at Ryan's house, of chicken pot pie casserole, pickle relish, leftover cranberry bread from Thanksgiving, and apple sauce, with oatmeal chocolate chip cookies for dessert, and some reading/watching football/snoozing on the couches, we headed back into town to Grandma's house.
I didn't notice the charcoal shutters hung on the windows, but I did notice her new back door. It was white with a double-paned glass window, and looked solid and new and much warmer than the old door. We went in, and she was down in the Keeping Room, watching the football game. She had three teacups and a plate of sliced fruitcake set out on the dining room table for us. We shed our coats, gloves and scarves and sat down to tea with her.
She pointed out the basalm Christmas wreath on her front door. It's made with real branches. Every Christmas her oldest son David and his wife Sandy send her a wreath from the L.L. Bean catalog.
Conversation with Grandma these days is a lot lighter and less reminiscent of the old days now. Ryan is with me, and we're only having tea: two factors that don't lead me into the tell-me-of-the-old-days questioning. But she poured our black tea into the teacups and we took the slices of fruitcake, which was studded with pecans and red and green candied cherries. We chatted about work and our apartment and other things. She has taken to volunteering at the nursing home my grandfather was at, because she had met so many people and made so many friends while he was kept there. Unfortunately, her first assignment as a volunteer worker was in the gift shop, which she doesn't like at all. "I don't want to be up there selling chocolate bars; I want to work with people," she says. Tomorrow she has an interview for a different position at the nursing home, hopefully one that will get her away from the candy bars and into the paths of people.
We talked about caning chairs; her front porch is crammed with chairs of all shapes and sizes, waiting to be restored. She had just finished a beautiful chair downstairs in the Keeping Room, with a delicate cane called carriage cane, so delicate you had to put varnish on the seat when it was finished to give it extra strength. She diluted the varnish with "mineral spirits" - a testament to the amazing things she has lying around her old house. She showed the chair to us, showed us where she took it apart and repaired the broken bits with glue, refinished the wood, and the underside of the caning. The chair is beautiful.
We didn't stay long this time, and as we were standing by the back door getting ready to leave, she pointed out the new door to us and the cool feature it has: blinds that are inside the double-paned windows, which are controlled by a slider to the right and can be lowered and lifted and opened and closed, all within the glass panes. She always has a knack for things that are quite practical and useful, but not without also being aesthetically pleasing, beautiful.
She wanted to know if I was going to "do any baking this year". I'm tickled by that question- by the idea of planning for a year's baking or even a season's baking. To me it seems quaint. She wanted to give me an extra bag of chocolate chips she had got on sale recently and wouldn't be able to use this winter. She couldn't find them, though.
We said our goodbyes and headed out the nice shiny new back door, crunched the gravel under our feet on our way to the car, and drove off. She waved to us from the window, as usual.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Update for the ten people who are reading this blog
Well hello, readers. I assume that some people have stumbled across this little blog because the last time I checked, I had about 54 profile views and today I have had 101. What a surprise! Still a humble little number, but it pleased me to see that.
Here's the update: after getting married and moving 40 minutes away, my dinners with my grandmother changed into Sunday afternoon tea sessions after church, usually with my husband in attendance as well. A lot has happened in the last several months. My grandfather has passed away, and I've avoided writing about that because it's one of those things where you don't even know how or where to start. But bear with me: I intend to keep up with these "dinners with Grandma" entries, even though they are more "Sunday afternoon tea" entries now, and I hope you will enjoy reading them. She is an amazing person, my grandmother.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Here's the update: after getting married and moving 40 minutes away, my dinners with my grandmother changed into Sunday afternoon tea sessions after church, usually with my husband in attendance as well. A lot has happened in the last several months. My grandfather has passed away, and I've avoided writing about that because it's one of those things where you don't even know how or where to start. But bear with me: I intend to keep up with these "dinners with Grandma" entries, even though they are more "Sunday afternoon tea" entries now, and I hope you will enjoy reading them. She is an amazing person, my grandmother.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Grandma's England Journal - Fifteenth and Final Day
4/14/92: D-Day (Departure Day) Doug was up ready to leave for Upwood and Christie got up to see us off and really touched me that she didn't want to see us leave. I hadn't realized our visit had meant that much to this little girl but it surely did to me. I'm glad to have had those sharing times with them.
Arriving at Huntingdon Station, we purchased our tickets L14.9 and Lynne helped Phyl with her large heavy suitcase albeit it was on rollers. Last hugs for Lynne and she was gone. We got our luggage on and tried to maneuver the cases back by our seat but a young man following said they would be all right by the sliding door.
Phyl and I began discussing the problem soon to be facing us in the underground station with stairs up and down to reach our train for Gatwick. We wondered if there were any redcaps thought neither of us remembered seeing any. Our Good Samaritan told us it would be better to get off at Finsbury Park instead of King's Cross, he said "just follow me", then he proceeded to pick up Phyl's bag, another young man said "let me help" and carried my suitcase thru the station up the stairs and to the automatic barriers. We called our thanks as they hurried about their business. Down some stairs, with frequent stops, then up an escalator, finally the tube for Victoria Station where we would board the BritRail to Gatwick. We were the only ones in our car until our first stop a young man got on. He asked if we were visiting in the city. Phyl told him we'd been visiting and were on our way to Gatwick and home. He asked what part of the States we were from when Phyl said she was living in Florida. he said his parents had retired there. Phyl recognized the place as near her, he took out a card and put their phone number on it for her. He told us he retired from USAF and now was employed by London Transit as a Safety Inspector. In service he was in Health and Safety stationed at Upwood. At Victoria Station he helped Phyl with her bag and we were soon aboard Britrail headed for Gatwick.
Arriving we went thru Customs (long lines) then on into the concourse with shops and a restaurant. Had a nice breakfast buffet and coffee. Boarded the plane, and watched that little patch of green that is England dissolve in mist and fog as we climbed into the clouds and headed West - well, I guess Northwest!
It was late afternoon when we reached Charlotte, N.C. Phyl's plane was soon leaving and I had less than an hour to wait. Landed in Buffalo to be greeted by 'Lanie and Mir. Picked up my luggage, talking non-stop and soon we were toodling down old Route 16. We decided to stop at Nicolo's for coffee and surprise Lisa. Very fitting as she waved goodbye to me from the driveway there as Kevin was driving me in to Buffalo Airport, two weeks before. I left her a tip in English coins.
It was good to get home. Dad had done very well on his own. No dirty dishes- nothing to indicate I'd been away two whole weeks on the trip of a lifetime.
Arriving at Huntingdon Station, we purchased our tickets L14.9 and Lynne helped Phyl with her large heavy suitcase albeit it was on rollers. Last hugs for Lynne and she was gone. We got our luggage on and tried to maneuver the cases back by our seat but a young man following said they would be all right by the sliding door.
Phyl and I began discussing the problem soon to be facing us in the underground station with stairs up and down to reach our train for Gatwick. We wondered if there were any redcaps thought neither of us remembered seeing any. Our Good Samaritan told us it would be better to get off at Finsbury Park instead of King's Cross, he said "just follow me", then he proceeded to pick up Phyl's bag, another young man said "let me help" and carried my suitcase thru the station up the stairs and to the automatic barriers. We called our thanks as they hurried about their business. Down some stairs, with frequent stops, then up an escalator, finally the tube for Victoria Station where we would board the BritRail to Gatwick. We were the only ones in our car until our first stop a young man got on. He asked if we were visiting in the city. Phyl told him we'd been visiting and were on our way to Gatwick and home. He asked what part of the States we were from when Phyl said she was living in Florida. he said his parents had retired there. Phyl recognized the place as near her, he took out a card and put their phone number on it for her. He told us he retired from USAF and now was employed by London Transit as a Safety Inspector. In service he was in Health and Safety stationed at Upwood. At Victoria Station he helped Phyl with her bag and we were soon aboard Britrail headed for Gatwick.
Arriving we went thru Customs (long lines) then on into the concourse with shops and a restaurant. Had a nice breakfast buffet and coffee. Boarded the plane, and watched that little patch of green that is England dissolve in mist and fog as we climbed into the clouds and headed West - well, I guess Northwest!
It was late afternoon when we reached Charlotte, N.C. Phyl's plane was soon leaving and I had less than an hour to wait. Landed in Buffalo to be greeted by 'Lanie and Mir. Picked up my luggage, talking non-stop and soon we were toodling down old Route 16. We decided to stop at Nicolo's for coffee and surprise Lisa. Very fitting as she waved goodbye to me from the driveway there as Kevin was driving me in to Buffalo Airport, two weeks before. I left her a tip in English coins.
It was good to get home. Dad had done very well on his own. No dirty dishes- nothing to indicate I'd been away two whole weeks on the trip of a lifetime.
Grandma's England Journal - Day Fourteen
4/13/92:
Packing Day. Got a large box packed with excess clothes, and souvenirs I had accumulated. Went to the base, mailed the package home, got 2 sets of my pictures. Lynne and the girls treated for lunch at Burger King at the base. Phyl and Lynne went shopping and I took the girls to Baskin-Robbins where we bought cones and ordered an ice cream cake for Doug and Lynne's birthdays that we'd be just missing. As we left the base with our purchases, Phyl and I had to turn in our base passes, that makes departure seem imminent. After dinner Lynne drove to west Ramsey where a small estate auction was to be held that evening. She saw an oriental lacquered jewelry box she liked. I found a small oil canvas that I thought very interesting. After dinner, Phyl opted to read, Doug was sorting his three sets of photos and the girls playing. Lynne and I went to the "Fens Auction".
I took a snapshot from the back of the hall of this unique experience. The auctioneer was more like a judge, no lingo, just repeated the bid until it wasn't topped, said "sold, Name?". Besides the small painting, I also bit on and got a small pair of Chinese vases, and Lynne got her jewelry box, dark red lacquer with brass corners and ivory inlay on top, very pretty. Since we had successfully bid and got the things we wanted, we paid our bill and left. Home earlier than Doug expected. Talked, had birthday cake, made our goodbyes to the girls as we're to leave about 6a.m. Packed the last things, showered and to bed about 10 p.m.
Packing Day. Got a large box packed with excess clothes, and souvenirs I had accumulated. Went to the base, mailed the package home, got 2 sets of my pictures. Lynne and the girls treated for lunch at Burger King at the base. Phyl and Lynne went shopping and I took the girls to Baskin-Robbins where we bought cones and ordered an ice cream cake for Doug and Lynne's birthdays that we'd be just missing. As we left the base with our purchases, Phyl and I had to turn in our base passes, that makes departure seem imminent. After dinner Lynne drove to west Ramsey where a small estate auction was to be held that evening. She saw an oriental lacquered jewelry box she liked. I found a small oil canvas that I thought very interesting. After dinner, Phyl opted to read, Doug was sorting his three sets of photos and the girls playing. Lynne and I went to the "Fens Auction".
I took a snapshot from the back of the hall of this unique experience. The auctioneer was more like a judge, no lingo, just repeated the bid until it wasn't topped, said "sold, Name?". Besides the small painting, I also bit on and got a small pair of Chinese vases, and Lynne got her jewelry box, dark red lacquer with brass corners and ivory inlay on top, very pretty. Since we had successfully bid and got the things we wanted, we paid our bill and left. Home earlier than Doug expected. Talked, had birthday cake, made our goodbyes to the girls as we're to leave about 6a.m. Packed the last things, showered and to bed about 10 p.m.
Grandma's England Journal - Day Thirteen
4/12/92:
I was up early, had a shower, cup of coffee and watched a starling building a nest in the eaves of the other building of Blossoms across the garden. Christie came in to wake up with me as Joanne and Phyl were still sleeping. We watched the bird, talked of what we had seen and what we would see today. She and Joanne were intrigued by the walkway over Bootham Row and looked forward to another trip 'up and over'. At 7:30 we were all ready for the "full English breakfast". Across the courtyard to a double door basement entrance we entered a very homey, friendly atmosphere where a fair number of other guests were already enjoying their breakfast. It consisted of eggs, bacon (like Canadian bacon), toast, O.J., home fries, sausage (tasted like a hot dog) and coffee in pots. Oh yes, and grilled tomato. Most of the museums, etc., did not open until 10 a.m. so we decided to do a bus tour and get out of the bone-chilling wind that followed the misty rain of earlier. Partway on the tour the guide pointed out Clifton Tower, and we left the tour to investigate. The only access was stone steps leading steeply up about thirty or more feet. Phyl and I decided we'd watch the rest negotiate the steps and wait by the Castle Museum. The kids decided to go back to walk the wall so Phyl and I waited for a bus. Now I must remember, we purchased tickets on the Blue Line. As we waited a Green bus pulled up, when I showed the driver our ticket, he said "Hop in, it's too cold to be standing waiting" and we gratefully did. On we went taking in the River Foss, Holy Trinity Church, All Saints Church, at High Petergate, Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom sits high up on the wall. At Bootham Bar we thanked our driver and went to meet the kids at Bootham Bistro for lunch. Had a prawns and lettuce sandwich and coffee. The shrimp was fresh and very tasty. Back on the bus we saw the remains of Roman wall, the moat - now growing green with grass and dotted with clusters of daffodils. There was the crenelated wall area we had walked along yesterday afternoon, the portcullis, the cholera cemetery outside the walls. Met Doug, Lynne and the girls and planned the rest of our time. Lynne, Phyl and I went to Shambles, narrowest and oldest street in York, lined with tiny shops. Made a few purchases for memory's sake.
Then Doug, Lynne, Phyl and the girls went to do the tour of the Minster, after the tour of Ely I didn't want to make comparisons. I liked Ely best, so I went to Bootham Bar to tour the art museum. I enjoyed the quiet, the walk thru centuries of art, English, Low Country, French and Italian. I found only one Constable but it was a very good pastoral. His home was near Lavenham and the scenes he chose could almost be today. Finished, I walked out into the sunshine and in a few minutes Phyl and Lynne crossed over to join me. Doug and the girls had gone for one more tour atop the wall.
Back at Blossoms we climbed into the van and by turning the side view mirror flat and with Lynne in front directing, he got thru the wall entry without a scratch. The girls stretched out and slept. Arrived back in Ramsey about 7p.m. Great, memorable weekend.
I was up early, had a shower, cup of coffee and watched a starling building a nest in the eaves of the other building of Blossoms across the garden. Christie came in to wake up with me as Joanne and Phyl were still sleeping. We watched the bird, talked of what we had seen and what we would see today. She and Joanne were intrigued by the walkway over Bootham Row and looked forward to another trip 'up and over'. At 7:30 we were all ready for the "full English breakfast". Across the courtyard to a double door basement entrance we entered a very homey, friendly atmosphere where a fair number of other guests were already enjoying their breakfast. It consisted of eggs, bacon (like Canadian bacon), toast, O.J., home fries, sausage (tasted like a hot dog) and coffee in pots. Oh yes, and grilled tomato. Most of the museums, etc., did not open until 10 a.m. so we decided to do a bus tour and get out of the bone-chilling wind that followed the misty rain of earlier. Partway on the tour the guide pointed out Clifton Tower, and we left the tour to investigate. The only access was stone steps leading steeply up about thirty or more feet. Phyl and I decided we'd watch the rest negotiate the steps and wait by the Castle Museum. The kids decided to go back to walk the wall so Phyl and I waited for a bus. Now I must remember, we purchased tickets on the Blue Line. As we waited a Green bus pulled up, when I showed the driver our ticket, he said "Hop in, it's too cold to be standing waiting" and we gratefully did. On we went taking in the River Foss, Holy Trinity Church, All Saints Church, at High Petergate, Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom sits high up on the wall. At Bootham Bar we thanked our driver and went to meet the kids at Bootham Bistro for lunch. Had a prawns and lettuce sandwich and coffee. The shrimp was fresh and very tasty. Back on the bus we saw the remains of Roman wall, the moat - now growing green with grass and dotted with clusters of daffodils. There was the crenelated wall area we had walked along yesterday afternoon, the portcullis, the cholera cemetery outside the walls. Met Doug, Lynne and the girls and planned the rest of our time. Lynne, Phyl and I went to Shambles, narrowest and oldest street in York, lined with tiny shops. Made a few purchases for memory's sake.
Then Doug, Lynne, Phyl and the girls went to do the tour of the Minster, after the tour of Ely I didn't want to make comparisons. I liked Ely best, so I went to Bootham Bar to tour the art museum. I enjoyed the quiet, the walk thru centuries of art, English, Low Country, French and Italian. I found only one Constable but it was a very good pastoral. His home was near Lavenham and the scenes he chose could almost be today. Finished, I walked out into the sunshine and in a few minutes Phyl and Lynne crossed over to join me. Doug and the girls had gone for one more tour atop the wall.
Back at Blossoms we climbed into the van and by turning the side view mirror flat and with Lynne in front directing, he got thru the wall entry without a scratch. The girls stretched out and slept. Arrived back in Ramsey about 7p.m. Great, memorable weekend.
Grandma's England Journal - Day Twelve
4/11/92:
During breakfast we discussed the driving distance (about 90 miles) and time and decided that we had better plan on two days with an overnight stay. Lynne called York and arranged a B&B at Blossoms L18 per adult with full English breakfast, we all agreed that sounded good. Lynne, Phyl and I went to the Auction and participated. I got an old oval back side chair (minus cane seat) Doug & Lynne will bring it home and I'll refinish and seat it for them. I also got a small unframed oil painting. We were back at the house, had lunch, packed overnight bags, snacks and drinks and started for York. Sunny day and warm!
Arrived at Blossoms in York about 5 p.m., took bags to our rooms, Doug and Lynne had one large room, Phyl and the girls another and I took the little room looking out on the garden three stories below. Refreshed we started our tour up and over Bootham Row (4 lanes) on elevated foot bridge we traversed Bootham Row to Petergate, inside we climbed stone steps to reach the walk along the old wall that was the city's defense line in ages past. The Views were outstanding. York Minster dominates the whole area and is complemented with many other edifices of like age and charm, if not size. We walked down and back around to the entrance area of the Minster perfectly kept green lawns and acres of daffodils everywhere we looked. The tower and Wall were closing so we went to Bootham Bistro, the restaurant recommended by the lady at Blossoms.
The Bistro is evidently a favorite of the neighborhood, as we heard a lot greeted by name. The largest tables were for 4 persons and only two of them were free. Doug Lynne and girls took one and Phyllis and I the other. Our waitress shortly asked if two ladies could join us we said we'd be glad to have them. The mother, Scottish, she said had come down from Newcastle for the weekend with her daughter (about 20 years old). We had a most enjoyable time visiting; my only anxious moments when Phyl, in her less than quiet voice, wanted to discuss the Irish problems, the elections and I wondered "who's listening".
My fish & chips (served on a plate) with peas as a vegetable was very good. Peach melba for dessert and coffee came to L7, very reasonable. Phyl had the Yorkshire pudding, a lamb stew in a pastry as large as the dinner plate. After paying our bills, we walked back to our room to relax for the evening. All of a sudden, Phyl discovered her purse missing - a thorough search of all three rooms failed to turn it up and she was nearly in a panic, she wanted Lynne to walk back with her to the Bistro, but Lynne said she and Doug could go faster. In a bit they returned, missing purse in hand. When they walked into the restaurant our waitress (at least 70 years old) said she knew they'd be back and reached under the counter for Phyl's purse. She said our table companions saw it as they were getting up to leave, they couldn't remember where we were staying but knew we had said we were in the neighborhood. Very thoughtful, kind people.
Christie and Joanne were watching one of their programs on TV, so Phyl came in my room and we had a cup of coffee (maker and packets supplied in the rooms). Watched The Masters until about 11p.m. All settled down for a good nights' sleep to be up early for sightseeing tomorrow.
During breakfast we discussed the driving distance (about 90 miles) and time and decided that we had better plan on two days with an overnight stay. Lynne called York and arranged a B&B at Blossoms L18 per adult with full English breakfast, we all agreed that sounded good. Lynne, Phyl and I went to the Auction and participated. I got an old oval back side chair (minus cane seat) Doug & Lynne will bring it home and I'll refinish and seat it for them. I also got a small unframed oil painting. We were back at the house, had lunch, packed overnight bags, snacks and drinks and started for York. Sunny day and warm!
Arrived at Blossoms in York about 5 p.m., took bags to our rooms, Doug and Lynne had one large room, Phyl and the girls another and I took the little room looking out on the garden three stories below. Refreshed we started our tour up and over Bootham Row (4 lanes) on elevated foot bridge we traversed Bootham Row to Petergate, inside we climbed stone steps to reach the walk along the old wall that was the city's defense line in ages past. The Views were outstanding. York Minster dominates the whole area and is complemented with many other edifices of like age and charm, if not size. We walked down and back around to the entrance area of the Minster perfectly kept green lawns and acres of daffodils everywhere we looked. The tower and Wall were closing so we went to Bootham Bistro, the restaurant recommended by the lady at Blossoms.
The Bistro is evidently a favorite of the neighborhood, as we heard a lot greeted by name. The largest tables were for 4 persons and only two of them were free. Doug Lynne and girls took one and Phyllis and I the other. Our waitress shortly asked if two ladies could join us we said we'd be glad to have them. The mother, Scottish, she said had come down from Newcastle for the weekend with her daughter (about 20 years old). We had a most enjoyable time visiting; my only anxious moments when Phyl, in her less than quiet voice, wanted to discuss the Irish problems, the elections and I wondered "who's listening".
My fish & chips (served on a plate) with peas as a vegetable was very good. Peach melba for dessert and coffee came to L7, very reasonable. Phyl had the Yorkshire pudding, a lamb stew in a pastry as large as the dinner plate. After paying our bills, we walked back to our room to relax for the evening. All of a sudden, Phyl discovered her purse missing - a thorough search of all three rooms failed to turn it up and she was nearly in a panic, she wanted Lynne to walk back with her to the Bistro, but Lynne said she and Doug could go faster. In a bit they returned, missing purse in hand. When they walked into the restaurant our waitress (at least 70 years old) said she knew they'd be back and reached under the counter for Phyl's purse. She said our table companions saw it as they were getting up to leave, they couldn't remember where we were staying but knew we had said we were in the neighborhood. Very thoughtful, kind people.
Christie and Joanne were watching one of their programs on TV, so Phyl came in my room and we had a cup of coffee (maker and packets supplied in the rooms). Watched The Masters until about 11p.m. All settled down for a good nights' sleep to be up early for sightseeing tomorrow.
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