Kirby Lonsdale

If this is the lone and dreary world, I can't imagine what the Garden of Eden must have looked like! Maybe the great creator through in a few "Kirby Lonsdales" just to remind us what heaven will look like. And it's just one of many enchanted English villages that is tucked away around every bend in the road.

Same little stone row houses --all inhabited by real people who have real jobs and live real lives. The flower boxes are beginning to appear.........

spring is coming.........

as evidenced by the new baby lambs. Everywhere you go, even along the motorways you see green rolling hills dotted with lambs........................

This rather large home had a little box in front filled with freshly baked cakes and homemade jam. Just take what you want and leave some money in the box -- whatever you think it is worth!

OK, you lawn mowers.....don't get any bright ideas! However, if you

are tired of fertilizing, mowing, trimming, weed eating and everything else that goes along with lawn care, just stick a sign in the grass. Suddenly your lawn becomes a conservation area and green weeds become something to be desired.

Now, according to the travel books and brochures, this is supposed to be the most scenic spot in England. The River Lune winds through rolling green hills dotted with trees all laid out on a backdrop of mountains. The area is associated with John Ruskin. He lived here, painted and wrote here and was inspired by the magnificance of the landscape.

and now once more to the daffodils! At every turn of the road they wave their brillant heads. Clusters of them dot the landscape.

Perhaps William Wordsworth said it best:

I wander'd lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretch'd in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves n glee:

A poet could not but be gay

in such a jocund company:I gazed -- and gazed-- but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lieIn vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bless of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

Someday, when I am old and confined to my couch I suspect that my heart will still dance with the daffodils!

How do they know that yellow has always been my favorite color!