Snowshill Manor

A man, Charles Paget Wade, and his collection, Snowshill Manor.




Photographs weren't allowed inside the house so I can't bring you images of the figures meticulously carved out of bones from rations received by German POWs, antique toys, or vast collection of bicycles. After inheriting a small fortune Mr. Wade amassed a collection of craftmanship. He travelled far, but mostly near, to find interesting and beautiful things made with care and by hand.

His manor is a museum almost, but not quite, cluttered with uniquities where nothing is labeled. Rather, each object must be sought out and discovered. We learned from a guide that he and his friends, who included luminaries like Virginia Woolf and Graham Greene, would come to stay and stage plays wearing Wade's seemingly limitless costume collection.

quaint villages quiet lanes

These photos are sort of "a dog's breakfast" a lovely little phrase we learned on our tour outside of Dublin. They include several villages with wonderful names like Northleach, Painswick, Chipping Camden and Upper and Lower Slaughter.



















There are about a million things to be learned and observed in this part of the country. The scenery is, while not breathtaking then, daydream provoking. I can't get enough of the creeping flowering vines and, like toddlers, we call out each new sheep! pony! and swan! There is a footpath- there are many footpaths- that meander through the land, both private and public. One wishes one had time, a backpack, and a good pair of shoes.

First stop Woodstock

The Sicklicks have arrived! They spent the latter half of the week getting used to the jet lag and the apartment noise, visited Bath and had a tour of Oxford. Jason joined us on Saturday for a weekend in the Cotswolds- and thank goodness, because he was driving.

The Cotswolds are so named because they are wolds (a range of hills consisting of open country overlying limestone or chalk) where there are cots (A small inclosure for sheep; a pen; a fold). These sheep belong to the Duke of Marlborough and reside at Blenheim Palace. Blenheim Palace is, even if you are palaced-out, as you tend to become when making driving tours of the English countryside, not to be missed. They have more authentic period French furniture than Versailles (and they don't hesitate to tell you as much) and grounds that would turn any Vanderbilt green with envy, as I'm sure it did when the 9th duke married one (for her money) in 1895.



It reminded me of Biltmore. I suppose Olmstead had to get his ideas somewhere...

I love the smell of hops in morning...

On our last day, we took one of those hop-on-hop-off double-decker bus tours of the city. Like good tourists we took a photo of Molly Malone and went on a tour of the Guinness Brewery. I must admit- it was very cool. The interior atrium is shaped like lateral cross-sections of a curvy Guinness glass, and down on the first floor of the exhibit, where they introduce you to the ingredients, you walk underneath a glass-topped beautifully loud and crashing waterfall.

loughs of wickow county

We got out of town on Saturday and took a day trip of Wicklow County. Even though Ireland wasn't as green as I'm sure it gets in later months, it was celtic-ly picturesque full of sheep, brooks, and round towers.

These are the tower and one of the chapels at Glendalough, (pronounced "glen-da-lock") a 7th century monastry.

gaelic or sicklick?

We travelled to Ireland this weekend and learned a host of new Gaelic words. 'Sally' means 'willow' and 'beg' (pronounced bey-og) means 'small'. 'Tay,' not surprisingly, is 'tea' and 'baile' (anglicized as 'bally') means 'city.' Hearing it spoken on the grounds of Trinity College and in the streets of the Temple Bar like stanzas from a Tokien novel made me want to read a language geneology, if there is such a thing.

It was, perhaps, not the best weekend to travel to Dublin. The plane flight was, as Jason put it, a "sausage fest" as Ireland was playing Wales in a World Cup Qualifier. Large groups of men were, some of them already smelling of the bar, loud and all dressed alike in the check-in line at the Birmingham International Airport.

Jason took the day off on Friday and we arrived early, for us, in Dublin, checked in to our swanky hotel, and did our usual apres lunch recon city walk. We had dinner at, of all places, an Indonesian place that was almost, but not quite, completely tasteless.

On Saturday we took a day tour to Wicklow County.

sometimes it snows in March

We woke up to snow again this morning.

Groaty Pudding

A few weeks ago, when my parents were in town, I was going to cook dinner for the four of us. I checked online to find some possible recipes that included some of the ingredients we already had in our fridge from the veg delivery and found a recipe for kasha with toasted walnuts and onions. Jason loves kasha and I thought it would make a good side to roasted fish and fennel. I got up early and left to check the markets around our flat for kasha. There was not one kernel of barley to be found. Not at Sainsbury's not at Harrods2 not at Holland and Barret, a healthfood store, not at Marks and Spencer. Turns out I was looking in the wrong place.

This afternoon, post call, we were flipping around on the television and settled on Saturday Kitchen a show on BBC 2 about, you guessed it, cooking. One segment showed Keith Floyd in the Black Country learning how to make a dish called groaty pudding. Groaty pudding is a dish made with meat, onions, leeks, beef broth, and groats or kasha, as they're (apparently erroneously) called in America. They've been making this dish for hundreds of years. You put all these things in a pot and bake them, at a very low temperature, for 16 hours. Okay, so you're asking yourself, "Self, why is she telling me this?"

The most important thing I learned from Mr. Floyd...turns out the place to buy groats here in England?

The pet store.

Carfax Tower

This weekend we had a little car trouble- our car wasn't using all the gas and instead sending fumes into the body of the car making us dizzy and sick. So instead of driving to Wales, as we had planned, we got the car fitted for an immobiliser and took it to the VW dealer for an overhaul. It was a beautiful weekend to walk and Oxford was teeming with people.

Mallard royalty

Every afternoon the Duke and Duchess Duck join us for tea.

This is not Spinal Tap

Our trip to Stonehenge and Avesbury was amazing. Not really amazing in a Celtic otherwordly put on your cloaks and dance around the bonefire amazing, more like our tour guide was incredibly knowledgeable and we learned a whole lot about an ancient and mysterious place kind of amazing. And the day could not have been more beautiful.

Those stones in the middle photo- Stones of Fertility.

Guests

For the past two weeks we have had guests, or rather, they have had us as I have been staying in London in their flat. My parents have come for a visit to a somewhat soggy city and the four, sometimes three of us have toured, visited, watched, and enjoyed. All photos of London and environs were taken by my talented father.

The flat was in a perfect location in Knightsbridge three blocks from Harrods



and between two very close tube stops.





Being in London was a welcome change to the quiet and, sometimes, solitude of Headington. I suppose you can take a girl out of the city...