A Year

A year ago today I was in London. I was just starting my study abroad experience which is still one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I want to go back more often than I should (even though I was homesick sometimes). It still feels like I just got back, but, at the same time, like that study abroad was a world and a half away. In some ways, I suppose, it is.

A lot can happen in a year. It seems like such an insignificant amount of time, those twelve months, but a whole life--a whole world--can change in that period. And we hardly notice it until we look back.

A year ago today I was in London. I was learning how to live in a different culture and how to get around in a foreign city. Today I'm a little over a month away from marrying the most incredible man, I'm starting full-time at my job because I graduated from BYU, and the future is largely uncharted. That's exciting and scary at the same time. I have another year ahead of me. Another year in which life can change completely. Isn't that remarkable? I'm excited to see what that brings.

Finish Lines

There's a certain feeling that always accompanies the end of a school year. The sun seems to shine just a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer. The birds sing a just a little bit sweeter. You seem to smile just a little bit bigger, more frequently. There really is no better feeling.

Sure, there are still papers to do and exams to ace (or take), but there's a light at the end of the tunnel and that light is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Suddenly, outside seems the best place to be all of the time, and you walk with your head up because, guess what, you're almost there. You're a few short days away from no more homework assignments, no more tests, no more heavy backpacks bursting at the seams with books and notes and knowledge.

There's something about being able to see the finish line that makes the race doable. Sometimes seeing the finish line is all you need for that last burst of energy to kick in and fly through to the end. It's remarkable, really.

So here's to finish lines. There are starting lines ahead, of course, but this race will soon be over.

Have You Ever Considered?

Have you ever thought about how weird blogging is? You put your thoughts, pictures, and stories on the Internet and then it's open to the public so complete strangers can read about the essay that was due last week or the song that made you smile. And you can follow people's families and hear about the one time they went to England or Tokyo, or when they had a child. And you don't know them outside the Internet, but you know more about them than you know about kids you went to high school with. Weird, right?

But it's also sort of beautiful. Because, if you're successful, you've managed to create something that another person can relate to (and they might even be a perfect stranger). If nobody else looks at what you wrote you still created something. You discovered a bit of yourself that maybe you hadn't recognized before. And that is beautiful, too.

On Writing Papers

When I started college I hated research papers. I found them boring and technical and entirely irritating. I took a Freshman Writing course because it was suggested, and I figured it would be good preparation for the rest of my college experience. It was relatively useless because my AP English teachers in high school had been so incredible, but I did learn something towards the end of the semester.

We were to write a research paper as our final. My teacher decided to be nice and have it due the last day of finals (even though that was technically against the rules), and I, like many freshman, procrastinated like the best of them. I had managed to make it through my entire history of schooling writing papers the day before (sometimes even the morning of) the day they were due. I suppose a part of me assumed this would be similar.

I was entirely wrong. The morning the paper was due I had two, perhaps two and a half extremely rough pages. I don't remember the topic of my essay, but I do remember deciding that the last day of finals was going to be completely devoted to writing that paper.

I couldn't do it. Thanks to merciful angels in my life like my neighbor who sat by me and proofread while I wrote, that same neighbor who drove me to campus so I could turn in the essay (which I finished writing in the car), my classmate who printed my essay off for me after several failed attempts on my part, and my professor who let my classmate throw my essay into the box as he was picking it up to leave. That was the most stressful essay of my life, and I can't tell you how many pages it was (only that it was shorter than the minimum page requirement), I can't tell you what sources I used (though I can tell you that I used a citation generator to hurriedly get my sources into a semblance of a Works Cited page), and I can't tell you what I got on it, but I can tell you that I haven't turned in a paper that close to the deadline in over a year and a half.

Flash forward to my junior year: I took a creative writing class and, at the beginning of the semester, my professor told me that what we would learn would apply to scholarly writing in addition to creative writing. He told us that if we applied the principles we learned that semester, we would never have a hard time reaching a page limit again. Rather, he told us, we would find it difficult to stay within the limit. I didn't believe him. My entire junior year I felt very similarly about research papers as I always had, and I was always relieved to be at the minimum page requirement.

This year, though, something is different. I took another creative writing class from the same professor and, while he didn't give us the research paper comparison this time around, I feel like I finally understand what he was saying last fall.

As an English major I write a lot of papers. I take tests too, because that's what the university requires, but I write papers. And, because the university requires it, I write at least one research paper per class every semester (with the exception of Creative Writing). I always dread that assignment a little bit, but I've been surprised this semester by how much easier writing has become.

I have two 8-10 page research papers due this semester, one of which I have already turned in, the other of which I am currently taking a break from writing (so I'm obviously still not perfect at the no-procrastination deal). In the one I turned in already, I found myself cutting things out because I didn't have room to explore them in the allotted space. From how this current essay is going, I think I'll find myself doing the same thing. I guess my professors do know what they're talking about. I'm so glad to find out that they were right.

Peace

Peace is the most wonderful feeling.

It's the quiet sense you find at times that you don't always expect and you know that someone's looking out for you. And that that someone cares about you more than you can realize. It's the feeling that someday, everything will be perfect.

A Memory Hidden in a Notebook

Once more to the library. . .

The library of my elementary school has changed since I was a child, and I don't know that that's simply because the 90's went out of style. Everything was completely revamped--the picnic table with the large blue and white umbrella (the one that never stood up straight) has been replaced with chic beanbags and colored plastic stools. The walls have gone from white to sky blue, and an enormous clock on the wall is the first thing you see when you walk in.

And, unlike when I was a regular of that library, if you asked me where to find the myths and legends I wouldn't be able to walk there with my eyes closed. I'd have to use the grown-up cataloging system to lead you to them.

There are a lot of kids milling around, and I, a senior in high school, tower over even the tallest of sixth graders. They ask how old I am and when they hear the number their eyes widen and their lips silently repeat the number. I smile because eighteen really isn't that old, but I also remember the time when it was.

I remember those days when Wednesday was even better than Friday because Wednesday was "library day." And library day meant we could clatter down the short, meandering hallways to the center of the school where all the world was contained. And after we had our books a few of us would sit under that ever-leaning picnic umbrella, thumb through the brightly-colored pages of our new friends, and whisper secrets contained in the Genus Book of World Records. Rustling pages creating more magic than a fairy ever could.

Lost in London, Evensong, and a Party

Today I got lost while trying to get to church. Not because I was completely incapable of finding out how we've been getting to church every week on my own, but because every possible way of getting to church was inaccessible to me. So that made for some creative "solutions" that didn't actually end up working.

There are three underground lines that I can access from Notting Hill: the Circle and District (which are accessible via the same platform), and the Central line. The Circle and District lines can be a bit unpredictable, especially on the weekends, so I normally take the Central line and transfer once before getting to the train station which then allows me to get to the right area for church.

Well. The Circle and District lines weren't running this weekend due to maintenance, so I headed down to the Central line, thinking it would be just fine and that I'd be there early. WRONG! There was someone on the track for the Central line, and we were all told to find alternative routes because the Central line wouldn't get us where we needed to go quickly enough.

There was literally no other way I could get there by tube, so I started heading back to the Centre to find Internet access (actually, I don't know what I was doing because I was too irritated to form a coherent plan). I ran into Dr. Talbot on the way, and he helped me find a bus that would take me to the train station. I missed the bus by mere seconds and found myself waiting at the train station when Dr. Talbot and his wife, Sandy, showed up. They were going to be getting on the same bus as me to get to their own ward in Hyde Park.

The bus to Victoria station didn't come. And it didn't come and it didn't come until, finally, I realized that, even if I did make it to the station, I would have missed my train. By the time I was having this revelation another bus showed up that was headed to Wandsworth. My ward is in Wandsworth, so I hopped on. My words to Dr. Talbot were, "What's the worst that can happen?"

I figured out the answer to that as I found myself wandering in a strange part of town in the rain for an hour. I really wanted to make it to my ward because Elder Holland was speaking there for a special meeting. However, after an hour of being lost, I realized that I was going to miss that meeting regardless of how fast I walked.

I was frustrated, but then a thought came into my mind reminding me that, while hearing Elder Holland speak in person would be incredible, it's not the most important part of going to Church; the most important part is partaking of the sacrament. Upon realizing this I found my way to the bus stop and took the same bus I had ridden there (going the opposite direction) back home. I figured that, at 10:15, I could make it to the Hyde Park ward in time for the eleven o'clock meeting.

I was praying so hard at this point that I would be able to take the sacrament. I kept saying in my head, "I don't care what else happens, I just would like to take the sacrament," over and over and over. Prayers work because, in spite of a few more missed stops and backtracking, I made it to the building five minutes before the meeting started (it actually started at 11:10!). God is always mindful of us, and He knows just how to help us most.

I ran into Amy and Chloe at the same meeting because it was impossible to get to their church building, too. They had had a similar experience to mine, except they weren't alone, and I think the area in which they were walking was a tad more familiar. . . I was in what felt like a sketchier area of Chinatown in NYC. Oh the fun that was.

But the most important thing is that I made it to church. It was a good meeting, and I was so grateful to be there. The Church is true no matter where you are, and that is the most beautiful thing to me.

Amy and I were going to catch a bus home, but then the stop we were at was bypassed due to something that I don't understand. So we walked home. I don't think I've ever taken so many "Sunday walks" in one day in my life! Ah today was one for the memories. And stories.

I got home and started packing because I leave for Paris (squeal!) early tomorrow morning! I think, for me, packing is primarily mental. I have the hardest time getting started because I have it in my mind that packing is the worst thing on earth, but then I do it and it's not so bad after all.

In the midst of my packing, Chloe came up and told me they were going to be going to Evensong at Westminster Abbey a little after two. I joined them, and we had a good experience. We got to sit right in Poet's Corner which was thrilling, and there was some beautiful music.

It was interesting being in a Catholic service. The Catholic church gets a lot of things right, and I learned things I needed to hear tonight, but there are more complete truths out there that I am so grateful to have access to. The Book of Mormon clarifies so much, and modern prophets are such an incredible blessing I'm afraid I've taken too much for granted. I learned a lot more than what was being discussed doctrinally tonight.

We got back to the Centre an hour or so before we needed to be back down for dinner, so I finished packing. I'm delighted that I still have oodles of space in all my bags, and they're all still well under the weight limit. Hooray for easier travel!

After dinner we had a retirement party for Dr. Durham. Unbeknownst to me until tonight, we were the last group of students he will ever have. I am so grateful I had the chance to take a course from this wonderful professor. I learned so much, and I grew to love him. He's a good man.

So, basically, a Sunday that started out amazingly frustrating ended up being simply amazing. It was a good way to end the Study Abroad part of my trip. Life is a wonderful thing.

Church with Elder Holland AND The Piano Guys

I feel so blessed to be here in London when I am. So many things have lined up to make this experience truly once-in-a-lifetime. One of those experiences happened today.

Today we had stake conference. The conference was presided over by Elder Holland, and he was the concluding speaker. It.was.incredible. And not just Elder Holland's talk. The conference consisted of incredible talk following incredible talk following incredible talk. . . You get the idea.

There was one man who spoke on Christ's commandment to "Feed My Lambs," and he compared it to the great rescue of Dunkirk. He talked about how bringing people back to the gospel requires patience, love, and dedication. He found lessons in that great rescue that are linked to the gospel, and I found myself filled with the Spirit.

Another woman from Sweden (I think) gave a sweet talk about having faith and letting our doubts go for peace. She talked about how becoming a mother opened her eyes to the world and all that she has to protect her children from, but how being an example to her children and singing the song of redeeming love (as we read about in Alma). It was such a sweet talk and I found myself in tears. There is so much to look forward to, even if there are some days that are difficult.

We heard other talks about being missionaries, and others testifying of the peace the gospel brings. I can add my testimony to theirs. There is nothing else in this world that brings peace like living in accordance to the commandments of God. They offer protection, open doors for direction and revelation, and help us live the lifestyle that will make us happiest. This gospel is true and I am so grateful every day for its influence in my life.

We then sang an intermediate hymn and, while I was looking around me, I found that I was sitting one row away from The Piano Guys. I got so excited that I messed up on the words of a song I know by heart.

Then, Elder Holland got up to speak. He started by reminiscing about when he was in London and this district, and he wasn't afraid to be jovial while he was. When he started to bear witness of the Book of Mormon, however, the Spirit entered the room with force, and I found myself in tears once again. The Book of Mormon is true, and Joseph Smith truly did translate it through the power of God. It is the most correct of any book in the world, and the truths it holds are powerful, simple, and beautiful. That book brings me closer to Christ every day, and the more effort I put into reading it the more I find. It opens the path for revelation. It is true. Once again, I am so grateful for the gospel. I know that my Redeemer lives, I know that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God, and I know that President Thomas S. Monson is the living president of the Church today. And because of this, I am happy.

Basically, the meeting today was incredible and everything that I needed. After it was over I found myself pondering the words spoken and the things I had felt. I was quiet.

Because I was so close to The Piano Guys I almost said hello, but then I didn't know what to say except, "Hi. I think you're great. *Thumbs up*" so Sarah and I just left. We walked through Hyde Park to get home, and it was a lovely thing. Today was an amazing day.

That One Time I Fell in Love

When I decided to go to London on a study abroad I intended to fall in love with London. I didn't (okay I did, but only a little bit), and I fell in love with England and Scotland instead. Isn't it funny how things happen like that? How love comes when and where you're not exactly looking for it. It's kind of amazing, really.

Today we visited Stirling Castle and Ichmahome. Stirling Castle is in the most strategic location in all of Scotland, and most kings leading up to James VI lived there. Ichmahome is an island that is filled with magic (though that's only what I decided, not what's written in history) that used to house a monastery. The monastery is now ruins, but they were the most beautiful ruins I have ever seen.

First, the weather was awful today. The man running the boat at Ichmahome did point out that there's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing, though, and I suppose he's right. It just happened to be that none of us were exactly wearing the "right" clothes. Many girls were in leggings, tennis shoes, and jackets. I was wearing jeans, tennis shoes that acted a bit like sponges, and a less-than-waterproof-but-warm-when-dry coat. Definitely not ideal attire for rain and mud. However, it was still a magical experience being there, and I didn't even mind the damp and the mud after walking around the island for a bit.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. First was Stirling Castle. Or, more accurately, the coach ride there.

Our coach driver overheard our professors talking about The Battle of Bannockburn (a battle in 1314 in which Scotland beat the English), and he offered to drive us by the site of that battle because it would only add five minutes to our journey to the castle. Our professors jumped at that offer, and we got a spontaneous history lesson from Professor Talbot. He gets so excited about history and learning that I can't help but catch a bit of his enthusiasm.

The castle itself was beautiful. The interior was entirely remade to be like it would have been in the times of the kings of old. There were tapestries lining the walls, rugs on the floor, (fake) candles in the lights, (fake) food on the tables, etc. It was incredible. Not an I'd-like-to-live-here-someday incredible, but incredible. The view took my breath away, though.

We then hopped back on the coach and headed off to Ichmahome. It started raining pretty hard, but turned to a constant drizzle right before we got off the coach. The rain made everything smell amazing (except for the lake), but it, combined with the wind, made for a pretty cold group of girls. There was also only one boat and it fit twelve passengers, so we had to go over in several different shifts. I was lucky enough to be on the second one.

As soon as I got to the island the cold didn't matter. It was breathtaking, and completely fell in love. The island felt like something out of a fairy tale. It was magic, even if it wasn't really.

The church ruins were hidden behind trees, but as soon as you got halfway down the dock they started to come into view. I rounded the row of trees and heard myself gasp. The stones rising up were dark grey because of the rain, and they were covered in tiny green ferns and pink flowers. It looked like a place a princess could be found.

I took more pictures than I could ever use, and I wandered around the island with the silliest grin on my face. I felt like I could have been in a million different stories and then I realize that I was in my own which was even better. Also, my hair didn't even get frizzy, so you know there must have been some sort of magic there. The hair gods were kind until I got back on the coach and we headed for the hotel.

We (Amy, Chloe, Kathryn, Mary, and I) then warmed up a bit at the hotel and then headed out to find food. We found a delightful little Italian place called Bon Napoli. We ate, chatted, and enjoyed the company of each other.

After dinner we popped into Primark which is full of good deals and decent quality, but I don't like shopping so I sort of wander the aisles until other people want to leave. Tonight the first people in our group who wanted to move on were Amy and Chloe. There was a bookstore that Amy wanted to visit tonight and it closed at eight, so we made our way there.

I have decided that going into a bookstore with Amy and Chloe is even more dangerous than going into a bookstore by myself: they encourage me to buy books. So I walked out with two. I did talk myself down to that number, though. At one point I was carrying five and was looking for a sixth. But I stuck to two because one was free. And my library continues to grow. My carry-on suitcase is going to be quite heavy, I think. This makes ten books purchased since I've been here. But they're such happy things. I can't exactly say no all of the time. Books are good.

After the bookstore we hopped into Tesco and purchased candy for quite a cheap price. I decided to try some gummy candies I'd never had before, and they were good except for the Coke-flavored ones. But I think that's more a result of my not liking Coke than the candy being weird.

Then we went back to the hotel and I caught up with Sarah. It was her birthday today, so Caitlin and Kenna bought her a cake. They came into our room with it and started singing happy birthday. I turned to YouTube to find the most amazing rendition of Happy Birthday on the Internet, and Kenna suggested that I look up someone playing it on the bagpipes. I died. It was the most amazing thing, and we all had a good laugh (though it was a good video). We watched some Doctor Who (which is much better when you've been to England, I think) and now it's past our bedtimes. I think today was a pretty great day.

Stirling Castle

Not many people made their way over here, but the view was incredible.

Amy in the back, Chloe in the front

This man's tights

These tapestries were all duplicates. They were hand-woven by a team and they were depicting the story of the hunt of the unicorn. The unicorn was actually a representation of Christ.

Waiting for the boat to take us to the island.

The ruins on Ichmahome

These flowers were everywhere. It was beautiful.

Amy

This was right next to the former monastery.

And this is where I started to explore.

I found the trolls from Frozen. Just in case anyone was looking for them.

You can't really tell in the pictures, but it was so muddy. There were footprints from people who had gone moments before me that were filled with water. It was exciting, though :)

It looks kind of like an animal yawning. Like maybe an owl?

This was a wall lining one of the soggiest pathways. I wish I had thought to walk on top of it because my feet got soaked on this particular path. Ah well. Hindsight is always 20/20.

Another angle of the ruins

I don't actually know what this is, but I stumbled across it and found it possessing a certain charm.

This tree was like a fort. I wish I had had time to climb.

There were actually two boats, though only one was running. So we had one boat empty at the docks while we waited for the running one to come back.

Tap lessons with Ruby, James, and Hannah

I'm content. Life is good. And maybe bedtime is a good idea. Until tomorrow!

Filled

Today I went to see Lamb of God by Rob Gardner in Birmingham with another girl in the program. It was a bit hectic getting there between transfers, purchasing tickets, missing the train we thought we needed to get on (though it turned out just fine), and wandering around in a city we've never been to before, but the program was 100% worth it.

I've seen Lamb of God performed a few times, now, and so I wasn't expecting to cry much. I was wrong. I was in tears after the first few measures of the opening number, and those tears pretty much continued on and off throughout the entire performance. The Spirit was so strong and I felt my own spirit being lifted up in the beautiful music and testimonies that were being born through it.

Jesus Christ lived. He died for us, and it is because of Him that we are able to return to our Father in Heaven. He performed miracles while he was here on earth, and those miracles have never stopped. He truly did voluntarily give up his life for each one of us, and it is because of His sacrifice that death has no lasting power over us. Each person in that performance today had a testimony of Christ and they bore that testimony with their whole heart while they sang or played their instrument. Though the performance wasn't the best one I've seen technically, it was absolutely one of the most powerful ones I have seen. There is truth and power in a testimony born sincerely.

I walked out of the Town Hall on cloud nine. I felt as if I had feasted, and I never wanted that feeling to fade (I still feel great, if a bit tired). Katherine and I met up outside the Hall and started hurrying towards the train station (as we would have had to stay in Birmingham for three hours if we missed the 4:10 train).

I guess we were letting our American show, because some guy walked up to us and started talking to her and telling her that he thought she was really nice. He wanted her number and kept asking for it, saying how nice he thought she was. Then he called his friends over and I decided it was time to go when they started to spread out a little bit. I was really worried about pickpockets, but who knows what, if anything, their plans were. Maybe they were just there to be wing-men?

I grabbed Katherine's arm and said to the guy that we had to catch our train and that we were running late. We walked away, but this guy followed. His friends didn't, though, which was good. Also, we were on a busy walkway so we couldn't have been in too much trouble. There were too many people around. I think. I'm really just glad we left.

Anyways, this guy kept asking for Katherine's number and she kept trying to say no. He said several times that he wanted to take her out for coffee, and she said she didn't drink coffee and that she wasn't allowed to go out, anyway. I wanted him to leave so badly.

Leave he finally did when Katherine gave him a pass-along card, and we hurried to the train station in time to catch our train. Moral of the story? Tell everyone here you have a boyfriend. Or don't talk to strangers. Or look both ways before crossing the street. Or eat your vegetables. I'm sure it's one of those.

Catching the right train proved to be a bit of a problem, too. We got on three wrong trains before getting on the right one, but, thanks to a delay in the right train, we were on our way without too big of a problem. Also, due to the aforementioned delay, the platform switched on us so that was one of the reasons for confusion. It was so exciting! I was just grateful that I'd learned how to read a train platform board last summer. It proved to be a vital skill to have.

And so, even with all the crazy adventures that happened today, I think it was the most rewarding day (definitely the most spiritually-rewarding day) that I've had thusfar. The Gospel is true and I am so grateful for its influence in my life. What's more, I'm forever grateful all Christ has done for me. He truly loves each and every one of us, and that offers me so much peace. It offers hope. Though his death appeared devestating at the time, three days later He rose again. And, truly, it is where we can find hope. With God, all things are possible. We may not see how at the moment, but "Someday, sometime, we'll understand." We simply need to trust in God and everything will work out. They always do.

Shakespeare Yields Greatness

Oh my goodness today was absolute perfection. I woke up singing and my spirits didn't dampen one bit all day. In fact, they soared higher and higher and it was truly delightful.

Today we visited Stratford-upon-Avon, the home of the great William Shakespeare. It was such a wonderful day that I'm having a difficult time finding the words to describe it. I won't launch into another explanation as to why I love the author of the day, but I do love Shakespeare, and I developed a new-founded reverence for him today.

The coach was supposed to arrive at a quarter after seven this morning, but, due to a miscommunication somewhere along the line, it showed up at nine (I think. It may have been a little bit later). Those of us going to Paris after the program ends took advantage of this in-between time and purchased Chunnel tickets (this is getting real!). Then, because we're served lunch, not breakfast, on travel days, Kenna and I walked to Tesco to get some yogurt. We found this life-changing strawberry pomegranate lasse (an Indian yogurt drink), but that wasn't the best thing that resulted from that trip; as it turns out, Kenna and I are going to be remaining in Europe for the same amount of time after the program ends and neither of us have travel buddies (after the few days I'll be in Paris). So we're travel buddies now and I am so ridiculously happy about it! As soon as we figured that out we both felt a huge burden of stress roll off our shoulders. God is so good.

After returning from the store we sat around and waited at the Centre for a bit longer. Then, we walked across the street to wait in front of the gates to the Russian Embassy, where the coach would, hopefully, arrive in a few minutes. We probably waited a good half hour or so, but it wasn't all that bad. I mean, the gardener at the embassy didn't seem too comfortable with us in front of his wall, and it was bit chilly, but it was fun being with our group.

When the coach arrived we had a two-hour ride ahead of us so I sat down and completely engrossed myself in my book. I haven't done that for far too long, and that has been one of the best things about this trip. Many other girls slept and, after I finished my book, I joined the dozing team. I woke up a few minutes before we arrived at our first destination: the Mary Arden farm.

I loved that farm so much. There was a beautiful flower garden, a horse, owls, and dress-ups. The five of us found the dress-ups and spent a good deal of time getting outfits put together for a picture. Another girl in the program took our pictures and one of the employees at the farm was so delighted with them that she asked us to put them on their Facebook page. Sadly, I don't have any of these pictures on my camera because my battery was dying (though I managed to stretch out its life for most of the day). Those pictures are on Kenna's phone.

We watched a falconry show (the bird being displayed was a beautiful eagle owl) and then we had to board the coach again so we could go to the birthplace of Shakespeare.

Shakespeare's birthplace was cool, but it was over-crowded with an Asian tour group and I found myself jostled out of place quite often. I did snap some pictures, though, and I'm very glad I went. After the birthplace we had to exit through, of all things, a bookshop. I almost made it through empty-handed, but then a small book caught my attention and I'm bringing home Quotable Shakespeare. I did manage to leave with a lighter load than Lizzie, though, who purchased Shakespeare's complete works.

We had some time to visit other Shakespearean sites in the area and so Lizzie, Sarah, and I walked off in search of them. We ended up touring Nash house (the home of Shakespeare's oldest daughter and her husband, who was a physician). The lady who met us at the front desk led us into an adjacent room and gave a delightful presentation about the house, surrounding homes, and the life of Shakespeare, his daughter and her husband, and wealthy families in general during that time. Did you know that the color black was a sign of wealth back then?

After touring the house we found our way to the backyard and I fell in love with it. It was large and beautiful and smelled of flowers, grass, rain, and the perfect dirt. It was the sweetest and most wonderful smell and I hope to find it again.

Alas, due to a shortage of time, we weren't able to linger in the gardens for long. We made our way to the Holy Trinity church to visit Shakespeare's grave. It cost 50 pence and was well worth the trifle. As I stood in front of the graves of Shakespeare and his entire family I was filled with quiet awe. It seems silly for me to feel so altered after visiting a grave site in a church, but altered I did feel. Someone wrote those plays and his works immortalize him, but somehow the author was distant. I could recognize the greatness, but I hadn't seen what the creator himself saw. I honestly don't know how to put it into words other than to say that Shakespeare became concrete to me today, and I'm so grateful I was able to walk where he walked and to see some of what he saw.

We then walked along the river to get back to the coach and ran across a theater. Lizzie was like a kid in a candy shop, but she managed to keep herself in remarkable control. She did take lots of pictures of the costumes on display, and she hugged a wall, though. So there were small fissures in her controlled countenance.

Our last destination in Stratford was Anne Hathaway's cottage. That was a beautiful place and I wish we had had more time to wander around in the extensive, and breathtaking, gardens. There was a path leading into the woods and I walked along it for a time until it was time to get back to the group. I could have stayed walking in that wood for hours.

And then, just like that, we were on the coach and headed back to the Centre.

I had a smile on my face for almost the entire two-hour coach ride home. Lizzie and I sat together and talked, and eventually our conversation consisted of more shared silences than sentences, and it was a beautiful and comfortable thing. Lizzie fell asleep in my lap and I gazed out the window at the fields and trees. It was cozy and lovely and I didn't even mind how uncomfortable the coach is getting, really. As I sat and looked around me I was filled with so much love for these girls I've been learning and growing with. I'm so glad I ended up in this particular program and that I was roomed with these particular girls. Most of all, I'm glad I found this friendship.

You only wish your banana-mike keraoke concerts were as cool as ours.

Lizzie as a little Elizabethan farm boy.

At the farm. I think I will miss all the green when I go back home.

 Kenna and Caitlin. Somehow, Kenna and Caitlin always end up in dress-up pictures together, and, somehow, Kenna is always the man.

Chloe. She's pretty darn adorable.

In the flower garden. I'm making a virtual one to take home.

Kris I saw this and I thought of you.

During the show, the woman had her owl fly over to and land on several tables. Mine was one of those tables.

The birthplace of William Shakespeare

Glass window from the time period (I believe). There are so many names scratched into this window. It's pretty cool, actually.

Caitlin is the next Shakespeare. The cookies has chosen her.

This is my very favorite sign in existence and I'm kind of wishing I had purchased one.

Just walking down a street in Stratford. The great fire of London didn't affect these buildings (obviously, because Stratford is quite far away from London) and it's cool to see so many in tact and utilized today.

In the Nash home.

We're so excited to be here!

This fireplace was enormous. This home was built to showcase wealth and this fireplace is an example of that.

A bedroom in the Nash home

Do you see why I fell in love today?

Sarah and Lizzie

The graveyard leading up to the church

It really is a beautiful building.

There it is, behind the woman in white.

Words cannot describe what I felt here.

The river

It is a lovely river.

Food boats: because food trucks simply aren't classy enough.

I believe this was taken outside of the bookstore at the birthplace.

Anne Hathaway's cottage (Dr. Durham is in the bottom right of the picture).

I wish everyone could see the gardens as they were today for themselves.

Inside the cottage

The fire extinguisher was installed just after news of the Great Fire of London reached Stratford in 1666.

How Anne Hathaway would have been dressed for her wedding.

More of the gardens

Kenna and Caitlin

And this is where my camera battery died. The rest of the pictures are from my phone which has a decent camera for a phone, but I wish there had been a bit more juice in my camera battery.

There was a quote from King Lear here: "So we'll live, 

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh/At gilded butterflies." (5.3 3134-3136)

And that was how the most perfect day passed.