Boat Rides

With love for my dear old blog,
Morgan

Due to a lovely letter I received, and some rather persuasive pleading by several parties...

I have decided to update my blog. The letter writer shall remain anonymous. ;)

I don't know if I'll ever get around to posting all of my Europe pictures...which were taken what feels like forever ago! So this post is completely chronologically off. But I think as long as I post something this person will be happy :)

With love to my dear old friend Gray Denim Roses, with whom I haven't associated for a while,
Morgan

Bath

Bath is such a lovely little city! Visiting the baths was really interesting. They were built when the Romans occupied England (so way way way long ago) as a temple to Minerva, because what other explanation is there for water bubbling up from the ground? :) (Actually, you may be interested to know that the water comes from rainwater in a nearby lake that drips down through limestone until geothermal heat sends it right back up to the earth's surface in Bath) The best part was tasting the water, which was sort of like mineral-y tea...filtered through a lake...and limestone....and evaporated by geothermal heat...

I could go on and on about the other things we saw, like the Royal Crescent, where we visited a little museum about life in Bath in the 1800s. Did you know that when the ladies wanted to sit in the gentlemans' room with there was always a roaring fire, servants had to carry them in inside these little compartments so that they weren't exposed to the heat of the fire, because if they were, their makeup would melt off their faces? And that tea was such a delicacy that the lady of the house had to prepare the tea herself because she didn't trust the servants not to steal it? No. There is no way you knew that.

I'm going to stop now. I hope you enjoyed my useless facts :)

xoxo
Morgan

Thorne

The little village we stayed in the first few days in England is called Thorne. Every house had a name like the Old Coach House, Thorne House, or Thorne Cottage (where we stayed), reminiscent of the days when there really was a coach house, a cider brewery, and three busy farms. Now, though, the village is barely a village--only acquiring its title because of its one small church--and is just comprised of a one-lane street of houses bordered by fields of cows and buttercups. It was an absolutely beautiful place to stay!

xoxo

Morgan