Day 6

Good morning readers,

As I write to you, I am sitting outdoors, with birds singing cheerfully from the trees and dogs at my feet. It is day 7 of our trip, but I will now tell the story of our sixth day. 

As I mentioned before, my bed is possibly the most comfortable bed in which I have ever slept, and as a result, it was nearly ten before I awoke, though the rest of the house was up before well before six thirty. Once my sister and I were both dressed and ready, my aunt and uncle took us into Bristol. On the way in, we crossed over the world's first ever suspension bridge. Bristol is really darling. The buildings of the university there are stunning, and little shops line the streets. We were incredibly lucky in that the weather was simply marvelous. We went first to an art gallery, where my aunt and uncle's friend was curator of an exhibit. After, we had just enough time for lunch, before picking up Charlotte from her school. Her school actually looks like a certain famous school of wizardry. It is simply unfair. The five of us then meandered about Bristol--mostly along the waterfront where at every pub and cafe with a television  or five, crowds in red and white were gathered to watch the US vs UK football match later that day. We even passed a church advertising its high definition big screen showing the game. We stumbled upon a nature festival while walking, which had an atmosphere much like a farmers' market.

After later picking up my younger cousin, we began to head home, stopping only once for a peculiar purchase: a World Cup gnome. Now, much like myself, none of my family follows sports of any kind. I suppose the only stake we had in this game was the rivalry--for my aunt is British and my uncle American. And so my aunt requested a gnome, who has rosy cheeks, a beard, and an outfit that makes him look suspiciously like a Klansman. His jersey reads: "It's coming gnome!", a play on the "It's coming home" rallying cry of England fans--the "it" being, naturally, the world cup. The remainder of the ride home was filled with bad gnome puns ("Gnome Alone" "Gnomenclature" &c.)

Once we had returned home, the girls occupied themselves with mucking out the stables, and taking the ponies out to ride, while I watched from the side. It is quite impressive the jumps they can do. My camera in hand, I wandered about in the field until I found a tiny break in the stone wall, which I slipped through to get into the cemetery. It was already dusk--really the prime time to go into a cemetery alone, I think. Save an elderly gardener and his wife, I was the only soul about. Like any proper old cemetery, this one was filled with headstones from the 18th century on, the inscriptions of which could barely be made out through the weathered stone and moss. 

By the time I had returned to the house, dinner was ready. My cousin Ellie, grabbing the gnome, ran off to the television room to watch the football match. We all followed. It was an odd scene, the six of us lounging on throw pillows, the legal four of us sipping martinis. And Charlotte and I really must be related: her observant comment, "Look! They all have four shadows!" was eerily reminiscent of my much-mocked remark at a hockey game about the multiple reflections each player has in the glass surrounding the rink. 


Afterwards, we all retired to our separate rooms. 


Not sure now what I want to do today. My uncle is composing in his office today, and Diana just awoke. The pace here is a welcome change to our frenetic explorations of London. Now, though, my sister and I must seriously plan the remainder of our trip, for some new proposals have been made that may alter our intended course somewhat. But more on that later.


A


(Author's note: I apologize for going all "Fox Network airing episodes of Firefly" on you and posting out of order. It's hard to keep up when you're too busy eating cheese and playing with dogs to sit down in front of your laptop)