Football in Nottingham

Saturday we took the train to Nottingham to see our first professional football match. Nottingham County, also known as the Magpies, defeated the Aldershot, 2-1. Nottingham scored both their goals on headers in the second half. We sat behind the net and had great views of both scores. The Magpies play in the lowest of England's 5 professional leagues. While they aren't a top England team, they have the distinction of being the oldest professional club in the world - Nottingham County has been playing pro football since 1862.

What's Cool About School...and what's not

Joe and Tom in their uniforms and ready for the first day of school. Harlaxton Manor is in the background.

Joe:

The school is very small and it is easy to find my way around. There are 21 kids in my class, about the same as at Manz, but there is only one classroom of 6th year students.

I like the fact that my school has a football (soccer) team and a track team. My team thinks I should be goalie but I really don't want to be. We have practice every Friday after school and it lasts about one hour. There are about 10 6th year students (my class) and 8 5th year students trying out for the football team. My track team is the best. We had 3 kids finish in the top 10 at the first meet (including me.) We have two more runs yet to come and I hope we do as well in the rest.

We get 4 recesses lasting about 15-20 minutes each. During recess we play a game called 'family tag' (sharks and minnows.) Everybody here sounds like they say 'tig' when they say 'tag.'

Out my classroom window we watch for birds because of all the trees outside. They are attracted to the feeders we have set out. The robins are very small and look more like finches with red bellies. There are also lots of woodland pigeons and one is building a nest outside the window.

We get all our homework on Friday, about 5 or 6 sheets, and then we have until the following Friday to return it.

We take swimming lessons every other Friday. My class and Tom's class go together. We ride a bus to the pool in Grantham. In my group we swim laps doing the front crawl, back crawl, butterfly/dolphin and the breast stroke. The water is about 5 feet deep and pretty warm - thank goodness.

We have a very short lunch break and don't eat until 12:30. We don't get any snacks at school so I'm hungry by then.

When we change clothes for phy ed, we all change in the classroom - boys and girls together. I always change in the loo.

The school libraray is small and we have no scheduled library time.

Tom:

I am taking violin lessons on Fridays. I could have chosen a viola or a cello or a violin. I chose the violin. I know the D string and the A string.

I take French class on Thursdays. When we were in Nottingham yesterday I saw a restaurant sign in French that said Le Petit Four. I told my family that it meant The Little Four.

At recess I play family tig with the 6th years.

I like math the most.

The first week of school I did a report on racoons. There are no racoons in Europe so I am the only person in my class that has ever seen a racoon. I wrote a poem about racoons called I See A Racoon.

I am writing a story called The Magic Earrings. It can only have 2 characters. They are a girl called Claire and a genie.

My class has 18 students.

The walk to school is fun because we like to see how far we can get before the bell at the college rings at 8:45. We put rocks by the field to show how far we got. The fields have potatoes in them and one day I found a potato and my mom cooked it for me to eat. It was good.

I think school is harder here and the teachers are bossier than at my old school.

A Weekend in Warwick

The other weekend we visited Warwick Castle. Warwick is a medieval castle with the walls and towers built in the 13th century. Since it continued to be used as a palace during the 18th and 19th centuries when many other castles had already been abandoned, its buildings were nicely maintained and expanded. We saw many suits of armour, weapons and other battle equipment from the middle ages, plus the original furnishings from its years as a royal palace. We walked along castle walls, climbed into towers and went into the dungeon where prisoners were held.

The highlight of the visit was seeing a giant catapult fire a 35lb iron ball. Warwick Castle has the world's largest replica of a trebuchet, a medieval catapult that was used in sieges. After the ball was fired, the area was opened up so we could get a closeup look at the trebuchet. We walked out about 100 yards and found where the ball had landed. It hit with such force that only the very top of the ball was above the ground.

In Warwick we stayed at what seemed like a lovely little hotel called the Old Four Penny Shop. I was so tired Saturday night I layed down right when we got back and was the first one to fall asleep. But I woke up at 12:30 feeling miserable. The combination of bed and bedding was intolerable, probably the worst I've ever experienced. I could feel every spring in the bed, the pillow was so thick my head felt like it was raised at a 90 degree angle and I was being roasted alive by the 100% polyester comforter. I layed there for about half an hour, and just as the thought occurred to me that I couldn't possibly be any more miserable, I felt something bite me on the arm. I swiped at it, jumped out of bed, and fumbled with the lamp. Lamps in England have very small on/off switches which are difficult to find under normal conditions. It took me a while to get the light on and in the process I woke up the rest of the family. We all stared on the bed at the biggest, blackest spider any of us has ever seen (although Tom always adds that he's seen bigger ones in zoos.)

Once I got over the initial horror of the spider, I realized he would make a good blog so I took a picture. After he was flushed away, we all tried to settle back down, but who could sleep? Joe was anxious about the whole spider thing and wanted to sleep with someone, so I gladly changed beds with him, thinking his might be a little more comfortable. Eventually we all fell asleep, but what an awful night!

The boys enjoy talking about the many places we've visited and there's always something that helps them remember one place from another. For example, anytime we mention Siena, Tom says, 'That's where I cracked my head open.' Warwick will now be remembered as 'The place where mom got bit by the spider.'

The Denton Pub and Getting There

Monday I made it to Denton. This time I had a map I'd found over the weekend that showed the villages in the area and a few of the public footpaths. Still, it is hard to follow the map because, as you can see in the picture, a public footpath is rarely a physical path. If I'm lucky, the grass or other vegetation is slightly worn down, giving me some sense of where to go. Most of the time I don't have any idea if I'm still on the path until I come across the next fence crossing.

I took the scenic route to Denton, not wanting to get to the pub too much before it opened. After all, Denton is only about 2 miles away and it was just after 9A when I started out. So I headed toward the Denton Reservoir. It is a small body of water with ducks and swans and a few fishermen. From the reservoir I used the map to get to the village of Denton. I had been told I'd go through a field with horses, but there are multiple footpaths that lead to Denton and I was on one that went through another field of cows. Crossing over the fence I could see the cows up ahead and I could also tell that the path went right between two black cows. I wouldn't have had the courage to keep going, but just then up a small slope walked a couple and their dog. I asked if it was safe to walk so close to the cows and they replied that it was no problem. On I went. Just after taking this photo, as I approached the two black cows, I looked around me and saw this:

'It's a f---ing bull!' I exclaimed out loud. A British person would have said the same thing, but in a casual tone. They use the word rather liberally here. I said it in an alarmed voice. Still, I charged onward, determined to 'Grab life (if not the bull) by the horns.'

Actually, I proceeded cautiously and made it safely

through the field. When I got home and told the story to Rodd, he tried to minimize my adventure and told me it was likely a steer, not a bull, that I had seen. Whatever it was, it had horns and we were in the same field. Besides, there were a lot of calves around and they had to have come from somewhere.

I reached Denton about 10:30 but discovered the pub didn't open until noon. There is absolutely nowhere in Denton to pass time other than the pub and the church. I spent 1 1/2 hours exploring every detail, every corner of the small, 14th century church. I have vowed to never go anywhere again without bringing along a book.

British pubs aren't what I expected. I thought I'd find centuries-old buildings with dark, smoke-filled rooms full of old men who pass their days drinking beer and eating cheese sandwiches. The Welby Arms in Denton, like the other pubs I've been in so far, is nothing like that. It is a bright, nicely decorated restaurant serving fairly expensive meals - and smoking is banned. How disappointing! True to my expectations, though, they serve great beer. The pub in Harlaxton, within walking distance of the Manor, held its Summer Fest 2008 this past weekend. They had 21 ales on tap. Rodd and I went twice, the second time taking the boys along and they had a glass of pop while we sampled some more. There were ales from all over England and their tastes are definitely unique and quite different from our beer in the U.S.

The Welby Arms in Denton

This morning I went on a long bike ride along the Grantham tow path. There is a canal that runs east-west and passes by about 2 miles from the Manor. Alongside the canal is the tow path. Rodd jogs on it most mornings and he took me and the boys to see it on Sunday before we went to the pub. The college has an assortment of unreliable bikes for use and this morning I took one out. I haven't heard of anyone yet who has taken a bike out and not experienced some problem with it. The easiest to solve is the chain coming off, the worst I've heard is the back tire popping. I experienced the lesser of the troubles. It probably wouldn't have happened at all but I stopped on the ride home to pick blackberries and when I layed the bike down, the chain came off. I had no difficulty putting it back on but my hands were totally black when I was through. Apparently the one bit of maintenance they do on the bikes is to keep the chains well greased. I had a bottle of water with me and Rodd's backpack which he keeps well-stocked with napkins so I was able to clean up enough to not ruin my clothing.

On my bike ride I came across a pub called The Dirty Duck located just off the tow path. Its doors were wide open at 10:30A and I could hear men's voices coming from inside. I had no money on me so I didn't go in, but it sounds and looks promising so I plan to return next week.

Cheers!