Self Inflicted Wound

First trip to the ER accomplished on our trip (or A and E as they call it here...accidents and emergencies). I was dead asleep the other night and was woken up by one girl letting out a blood curdling scream in the bedroom down the hall, then the other hearing that scream let out an even worse scream. Then they both chimed in louder and louder. Either a snake was in their bed, Jack the Ripper had snuck into their room, or American Idol reruns had popped on the television.

Anyway, in my funk, in the pitch dark with dad instincts flaring I raced out of our room and down the hall. By the time I got the girls calmed down and into the bathroom (might as well kill two birds...) I felt drips.... I thought Elena had a bloody nose, but then I saw I had gashed my forearm open c
lean as with a knife on one of the antique door latches. 2:30 in the morning, needing stitches. Anyway, all's well that ends well. The British medical system was fabulous...no insurance, no hassle, just into the room and boom. Done. Thank you taxpayers of the UK!



Anyway, spent the day on Sunday going to the church down the road. Walked there through the blustery wind all dressed up, with the church bells ringing letting us know how much time we had to get there. The girls were way too wound up by that approach to settle into church in a super old, echo chamber church. But right away the rector (or pastor) came over and kissed them, and some other ladies brought over books and crayons and stuff. Very nice people. So no one seemed to mind as Elena wandered all over the place and stole toys from another boy. She is something else right now....

And the cutest thing, which I can't believe I didn't get on camera, was at the end of the service, as I was about to walk out of the church, I saw the old rector in his black robe, holding a girls hand in each of his and was jumping up and down, while they did the same, outside. So anyway, the girls had fun at English church...although I had a hard time not hearing Monty Python every time someone said, "Deahh Lohhhd". Brent couldn't have handled it.

Went back to Aylebury today for a tour of the Roald Dahl museum and a walkabout of the old town streets. Pretty cool place. Old houses, and tiny streets. Also, very old graves that Elena kept trying to play balance beam on.





Even though it's been raining for days, we tried out one of the public footpaths that cross the landscape here. One of them runs right passed the cottage here. We were on a hunt to find the fox that keeps showing his head around here over the past few days, and ended up trying to find our way to the sheep pasture behind my moms cottage. Never got there, becuase Marina stepped into a bog, and Elena wouldn't walk in the tall grass. Need to go buy some "Wellies", or rubber boots in pure English. Very pretty out there though....