"My Happiness"

I miss you dad, and find it strange to be writing a novel about you that I will never feel completes our story since I will never see you read it. I know you are somehow helping me write and you know every word. “Rest, rest perturbed spirit.” Here you are in happier times with Susie.

I did not finish the draft before we left for England because of Hurricane Irene which called me into work. So, we are back from Stratford-upon-Avon and the birth place of Shakespeare, and London, where a replica of his Globe Theatre now stands. I began the last chapter today adding a page and a half to the narrative which brings the total to just over 71,000 words.

I started the process a year ago today, not knowing it would ever develop this far. I thought I would not have the stamina, or the focus for a long narrative. Now I just hope people will read it. “Any place on Earth will do just as long as I’m with you.” Love you dad, forever.

"Well, I'm back." Sam Gamgee

It is comforting to know that at my advanced age there are still experiences yet to be had that are life altering. Our international travel to England, I trust, will be the first in a long line of journeys that lift the veil from our mundane, day-to-day existence long enough for a real look at the wide world. While travel was exhilarating, it was also hard work. The rewards we hope to share, Jennifer with her students, friends, and family and I with all of you. But instead of boring you with the details, I will just post photos from the journey and urge you all, if you have a passion for Shakespeare and his theatre as it was originally presented, then by all means take the trip. I let my camera do the site-seeing. Often just raising it above my head and letting it see and record the places we were passing through.I took almost five hundred photos. Don't worry, I will only bother you with the best.

Dateline: London

We arrived in London late afternoon Sunday which helped us avoid a mad crush I am certain. Please, first I must apologize for my spelling errors in the previous post. When you travel with a professor it's best you let her read before you push send. We just completed our tour of the White Tower. Fantastic. Last night we made our way out to the Globe Theatre by the Thames. No easy task when, on a Sunday, the Underground is just as messed up with track work as the NYC subway, but we had a lovely walk. Rewarded by a stunning Dr. Faustus by Kit Marlowe, the trek back to our hotel, which is virtually on top of Victoria Station, did not seem so bad. Next stop today after our Starbucks Coffee, St. Pauls, then a tour of the Globe, then Ye Olde Cheshire Pub, if we can locate it.

On Saturday we did hike out to Anne Hathaway's Cottage and hopped a train (one stop to Wilmcote) and visited Mary Arden's farm. In the evening we treated ourselves to dinner at the Rooftop of th RSC and then took in an interesting rendition of A Mid-Summer Night's Dream. Tomorrow we head home. Then I will start posting photos.

Macbeth

Our first day in England was full of sight seeing, touring and culminated with an RSC production of Macbeth, the shortest and one of the bloodiest plays in Shakespeare's cannon. Of course I had to finish the evening with a single malt Scotch, yes Lagavulin. It has been one peaceful thrill after another here. Beautiful weather, lovely gardens. The river Avon is soothing and full of Signet Swans. It is a vibrant town with a wonderful buzz, but not crazy hectic. Getting used to the currency has been a challenge, and getting wi-fi in this Starbucks a chore and a half (and hardly free!). All in all yesterday was one of the fullest days of my life. I don't know where we found the energy, but we were up at 7 and touring the town, the Bard's birthplace, his daughters house, the place where he is buried, and then one of his most favorite works in the land where it was first performed!!! Bliss. And the local beer helps. Great stuff. Today we venture further to see Shakespeare's wife and mother's houses respectively and tonight we see another classic :

A Mid-Summer Night's Dream which apparently was written during a time of hard weather here in England where the sun refused to shine and summer's had been either drought ridden, cold or both causing crop failures and the like. Gotta go, my English Breakfast is waiting.