Altogether English

Yesterday was a day that left my mind unable to rest. It made me not want to sleep because i did not want to stop living for even a moment. It was a day altogether English.

We begun the day by traveling to Whitby, a fantastic town located on the Yorkshire Coast. Most of the streets were covered with brick and Brits, and at every moment there was an ice-cream (most commonly referred to here as "Whippy") shop within eyesight. Ideal? Yes.

If I could forever captured one aspect of Whitby, it would be the sounds of the seagulls flying overhead as we climbed the 199 steps to St. Mary's Church and Whitby Abbey. The elevated view and sounds were overwhelmingly enjoyable. Climbing the ruins of the Abbey added some much needed adventure to the trip, and momentarily I felt I was climbing at Lake Lincoln just outside Fayetteville. After eating my first genuine Fish & Chips at the famous Magpie, our crew spent the rest of the day drinking in the culture of the streets & local shops of Whitby.

Now for my favorite part of the day--our drive through The Moors. In England, the weather is bi-polar. It rains nearly everyday, but is also always sunny at some point(s). Despite the challenges this presents in hosting outdoor kids-clubs and cookouts, choosing proper attire to wear for the day, and justifying showering when ones hair is only going to get wet, I view this as an entirely good thing. Because the weather is always changing, the skies consistently have such a depth to them that do nothing but sing praise to their Creator.

Bon Iver couldn't have captured the drive better with his falsetto, "Hulled far from the highway aisle/I could see for miles, miles, miles". Rolling hills of vibrant greens and yellows, hand-made fences of stone dividing the land, and quaint hidden villages that I would quite happily move to. And inside no enclosure were the friendliest sheep roaming about. Several times we opened the van door to stop and "talk" to sheep, and we definitely considered snatching one up to come live at the Birkdale House with us.

Near the end of our drive through the seemingly endless Moors, we had to ford a river. When I saw the sign, I American-ly thought "Henry Ford". Wrong. It meant "River Ford". Oregon Trail? It definitely felt like it, only slightly more exciting. The best part was when the car behind us (the other half of our group + Mrs Taylor) paused in (expected) fear, but then bravely rolled swiftly across it and Mr Taylor proudly declared, "My wife is so incredible. What a woman she is".

We ended our English Day by going to see The Panoramic (our new British friend's Indie band) at an English Pub in Stockton. We danced, we sang, we navigated the 3.2 miles home in the rain.

After all of this living, Elaina, Savannah, & I could not sleep. So naturally, we sat in our loft and sang musicals until our minds were content with resting.