Once upon a time (ten years ago, give or take a few weeks) I was in England, home of my ancestors, hopes and dreams (and Miss Delacourt and Sir Anthony who were, at the time, living in the proverbial drawer set aside for listless manuscripts).
The entrance to the chapel at Charlecote in Staffordshire
Every year at the beginning of September, I have the opposite sensation of the post-traumatic stress disorder I experience every October 17th since 1989 (I rocked in the Loma Prieta quake--literally. A body does not forget such things.) The first five or so years after my lifelong-longed-for trip to the mother country, I experienced a profound melancholy that has since mellowed into a fond memory of delight, very much the way I feel after eating a Dove vanilla ice cream bar enrobed in milk chocolate.
I love the reflection of the spire in the window on the front of Byron's house, Newstead AbbeyThis year, as a way to celebrate and immerse myself in the atmosphere of Jolly Old, I decided to scan some of my favorite photos (I didn't go digital for several years later), crop them in interesting ways (no? well, interesting to me, anyway) and change them to black and white (not sure why they call it that when it ends up being mostly gray). You can find, if the spirit so moves you, most of the full color originals at http://www.heidiashworth.com/
The terrace at Powys Castle, Powis, Wales
The back garden wall at Powys
Newstead Abbey near Nottingham, one-time home of George, Lord Byron
What's left of the chapel at Newstead after Henry the 8th got done with it. Note the empty statue niches--religious icons smacked of popery so Henry, the father of the Protestant church, sent his soldiers to smash them. The one at the top of the chapel wall at Newstead was just too high.
My favorite building at Newstead--the stables. This is where they parked the horses. Priorities and all that rot . . . 
The same shot in color because I wanted to.
The back of Newstead Abbey. In this picture, it looks very Dickensian but, believe me you, when you are wandering around there under a drizzly sky, it's pure Austen. We got there the day before it was closed for the season and I have thanked my lucky stars ever since.
A window embrasure at Warwick Castle in Warwick (the second w is silent, doncha know). I included this photo simply b/c I relish the idea of using the word "embrasure" though I am sure I must have used it in Miss Delcourt Speaks Her Mind somewhere which just goes to show how much I like it.
The house across the River Dee from where we sat eating our lunch (al fresco) in Chester on a gorgeous sunny-yet-crisp September day. Ah, to be in England! . . .
Part of Rowton Castle where my parents spent their 50th wedding anniversary
A window on the street outside Chester cathedral
A window at Charlecote Chapel
Charlecote cemetary
A romantic tombstone at Charlecote (I love cemetaries, always have, always will)
A restaurant down the street from where my parents lived (for 18 months) in Stoke-on-Trent. I like the regency-ness of it, being called Bonapartes, an' all . . .
The back of the house at Biddulph Gardens, a most glorious place to visit in late summer.
St. Mary's cathedral in Warwick which contains the Beauchamp (pronounced--in England, that is--Beechum) tower which is my ancestor, and, incidentally, the maiden name of a twice married favorite novel heroine (which means, if she were real, we would be related).(Alas, she is fictional but it took my meeting her creator before it really sank in . . .)
One day, I will go back to England. I might even visit more of London than the tarmac at Heathrow while I'm at it.
(See my sidebar for fun eBay auctions, including a size 12 American Girls Pleasant Co. Molly Christmas Dress for your own little girl.)
This entry was posted
on Thursday, September 24, 2009
at Thursday, September 24, 2009
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celebrating the ten year anniversary of my trip across the pond
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