Trains, Ambulance Rides and a Priory

It started as such a nice day.

Fred and Bessie were excited to take their first British train ride, and we waited patiently, content to watch the huge white clouds roll across the azure blue sky. The kids chattered and Hubby checked through the tickets one last time, and I took an inventory of the camera bag. Imagine how startled we were to hear the soft quiet, "Um, help please", coming from the train tracks.
Bessie had stepped a little closer than she should have to the tracks and her hoof was caught. It was kind of amusing at first. I think Fred maybe even grumbled at her a little bit -- until we heard it. The train was coming! I was running across the car park, Hubby was trying to grab Miss Ky, but we both knew there was no way we'd reach Bessie in time. Thousands of thoughts rushed through my mind and I felt like I was living one of those nightmares when you're trying so desperate to run but your legs are filled with lead.

That's when he did it.
The most heroic thing I have ever witnessed.

Fred THREW his body into Bessie's, knocking her clear of the tracks, and the train swooshed past.
We were all so relieved that Bessie was safe, that it took a few moments to realize that Fred wasn't getting back up. He lay motionless on the pavement.

As you can imagine, it was a very emotional moment and I learned something very interesting about how I will react in a crises. I did not shoot any pictures. I have nothing to show of the level crossing, I don't have photos of the train. I am not even totally sure that I didn't throw my camera down as I was running for those cows.

I did however, catch the tender moment when Bessie leaned down in relief to kiss Fred when he told her she was standing in his view of the ice cream shop. After a 9-hour surgery, Fred's horn is going to be good as new. In fact, he's feeling so good, we went sightseeing today.

Bessie stayed close by him all day. This is their first view of Castle Acre Priory.
Fred's had his bandages changed recently...

Silly cows making faces like the gargoyles

Isn't it gorgeous?

From Wikipedia:

Castle Acre Priory, in the village of Castle Acre, Norfolk, England, is thought to have been founded in 1089 by William de Warenne the son the 1st.Earl of Surrey who had founded England's first Cluniac priory at Lewes in 1077. The order originated from Burgundy. Originally the priory was sited within the walls of Castle Acre Castle, but this proved too small and inconvenient for the monks, hence the priory was relocated to the present site in the castle grounds about one year later.

The church itself was consecrated sometime between 1146 and 1148. While the Warenne family may have been the main benefactors of the priory, others also gave generously to it, for example Scolland, steward of Alan Earl of Richmond, who was in fact buried there. The

nave of the church is one of the oldest parts of the ruin, however subsequent additions continued to be added up until the priory was dissolved in 1537 under Henry VIII, and when the King gave the dissolved priory to the Duke of Norfolk complete with its estates, the remaining monks were turned out. The estates eventually passed to Sir Edward Coke, whose descendant, the Earl of Leicester now owns the ruins and Castle Acre Castle.

Badoo=Bad VooDoo

IF you get an email telling you that I have left a message for you on Badoo, especially if it says "Fred" left a message for you with my email addy, disregard.

Because we have a difficult-to-contact landlord who is periodically out of the country a lot, I believed  the message directing me to go to this site to read a message left for me (I know-- gullible).
Give me extra stupid points because I believed I had to register to read it. I did register as Fred Flinstone with a bogus birthday and refused to give a password to my email account (thank you Lord for the limited brain cells I have left) and moved on to my "message".
Of course there was none, so I then went on to delete my account.
However, when you try to leave they want to know why. I skipped that and got this obnoxious message:

"We can't believe it's come to this, Fred… There are people that can help you make everything better. But if you're going to just go ahead and end it all anyway, the least you can do is tell us why in the space below.
We think you owe us at least that much after all we've been through! We can change! We'll become better, we swear!".
That may be cute and funny in their world, but it made me angry-- especially when they require a password to leave. Password? I never set up a password!

So, please spread the word. This is a scam. They get private information from you and then contact unsuspecting people in your address book who will think you've actually tried to make contact. DON'T DO IT.
Don't say I never did you any favours,
Love Fred.

They're Heeeere!

The Hubby was in charge of getting kids off to school today, so as I stood in the doorway (in pj's) saying goodbye, guess who wandered up!
Fred and Bessie from Formica Fields (and Flea's World [for background info on these guys, check out her side bar titled "Bessie and Fred"], Dyln and Mental P Mama at Mental Pause).

They weren't shy at all like I had expected after reading of their travels around the U.S.-- could be because they've traveled for 5 days and are extremely tired.

I brought them in and showed them around a little bit. Fred is being very protective of Bessie. It's so cute.
The Hubby decided they should have some tourist photos snapped right away, and Miss Ky had to give them a proper welcome with lots of kisses (poor cows would've been frightened if they weren't exhaustion on eight legs).

Dang, she blinked!

The Hubby also suggested I leave now for London. By myself. (London is 3 hours away). Just to show them around.
He doesn't get jet lag. He's still young and fit. He manages well on little or no sleep.

It was time to let them rest--
much to Miss Ky's dismay, she wasn't finished kissing.I'm going to notify Flea that they're here and safe, and will post more after they've had a good kip. I hope they're awake for tea!

Face Your Fate, or Fete if You're in England

Friday, the bubbly bovines got to attend their first Fete.

Say, "Fate" not feet. or fe-tay. Please.

And while we're on the subject of pronunciation, Americans should NEVER say "cheers" while in Great Britain. It just sounds stupid.

The cows were quite out of it for a while.
They nearly slept 24 hours straight.
Just like when Son #1 came home for Christmas and couldn't pull himself together for three days (resulting in Miss Ky's terrible accident
when I was forced to entertain her, record one
kid in a mini-play and another playing in the band while A2 was trying to join his class in the ceremony-- Son #1 could've watched her nap while I did all that).

But today, my guests were up for the school fete.
It was fun seeing them discover this little event and reminded me of my first experience with it.

The Hubby was deployed, and there were signs everywhere, in each village, advertising that village's Fete.
I had no idea what that meant, so I went to my local Post and asked a lady about it. She told me that it's a little gathering of sorts were there's cakes and a Tombola (tom- BOWL-ah) to earn money for the village. And she taught me how to say it. Which was nice. Nothing like looking like a foreigner 24/7.
I missed several different village fetes (I lived in the country, so no specific village was "mine"), but I did attend the one at the school.
Yeah. So basically, it's a chance to donate stuff you don't want for the kids to sell back to you; an opportunity to bake cookies and cupcakes to buy back and a chance to buy nice things for them to offer up for the Tombola prize. They also have a raffle, and yes, you can donate things for that as well.

Fred and Bessie checked out the coffee set-up first.
Not that they wanted coffee, they just wanted to buy the cups that had cream in them.








Next, a little sugar.





Silly cows. Milk with sugar in it-- have you ever heard of such a thing?
I feel bad for all the good eating they had with Mental P, because here, they've thrown all caution to the wind.


Flea,
have you not taught them that video tapes are so
yesterday (not to mention they won't play on our player)?

Luckily they haven't converted their money yet, so I did talk them out of the tapes (they wanted to buy Kung Pow-- worse cow movie ever).






They enjoyed the band. J2 plays the trumpet. Fred and Bessie wanted to try it, but funny little things, they were blowing into the wrong place!Look at them sneaking into Ang's coffee. If I wasn't so funny, I might be a little embarrassed by their naughtiness.And for tea, we had a British classic. Well, two really. Just for them. We had Bangers and Mash (sausages with mashed potatoes) and Toad in the Hole (sausages in a yorkshire pudding--remember my experience with pudding?-- and brown gravy).My arteries are screaming just looking at the pictures.

Tomorrow we're off to the coast, and if the weather is good, they may try a little surfing!

Fred and Bessie are Catchin' a Wave

If you're asking, who the heck is Fred and Bessie?! and why are you taking pictures of cows? click here.

Look at them go! Ride Cows, ride!

Yeah. Um, about that. We got there too late for the high water.

We did manage to do a little shopping (Flea, they're bringing home some candy rock-- I'll explain later),

A little wave chasing,

some sight seeing,and a lot of picture-taking (surprised?).


You don't really think this is ALL of the pictures I took at Wells Next the Sea?
and no, I am not sun-drunk, leaving out "the".

WW- Go Into the Light, Fred

In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary. ~Aaron Rose

A Flea has Infiltrated Our Home

Remember when I mentioned blogging has filled my life with people I hope never to lose contact with?

One of those people just sent Miss Ky a package...


My long-lost separated-at-birth sister can sew! She can smock! Which makes me wonder if we should have our dna tested since I absolutely can do neither, and she's generous.
Flea (the lady behind Fred and Bessie) felt bad that my poor daughter is being reared in a home where she would never have a handcrafted dress and made this just for her.

I have a very happy little girl.

See this bag of pears?
She decided she wanted one, so I told her she has to take the dress off (it's intended for her as a size three, she was only trying it on for a picture), but she refused saying, "No.... pretty".

I think she likes it Flea! Thank you!

Yes, Anonymous, There Is More About the Cows.

It's been fun. They've walked coastal paths...



Enjoyed poo-free beaches...


tried a little seaweed...



Seen some great sights....


Played "Where's Waldo?" Fred and Bessie style...


I think they're going to miss England with it's sweet, green grass and wild poppies splashing color throughout the fields.

But they're off.

After a stop by Stonehenge (I couldn't go with the kids out of school-- there's not enough seats in the car-- so there won't be photos, sorry), they'll catch a flight out of London's Gatwick Airport. I think they may be looking forward to some sunshine-- a day without rain...

And they'll get it where they're going (along with some really great cooking and a good time).

Brought to you by the wonderful Blogger Scheduler (I'm out of the office buried in children taking a holiday)

Good Thing SOMEBODY's Watching the Baby

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

We have a "kid's" nativity.
The nice one didn't get unpacked since there really was NO WHERE to put it.


The kid's Nativity was set up by A2 this year (the five year-old).
He painstakingly placed each figure carefully where he thought they should be.
It was a little messed up and his brothers kept telling him so, but we just smiled and said, "Leave him alone, he knows what he's doing".

Then the cards came.

All four children began bringing in handfuls of Christmas wishes home from their friends.

The nativity moved around and squeezed snugly together, but A2 kept making sure he had a fine looking stage for the Holy night.

This is what we currently have marking the birth...
I could get deep and philosophical about how much we're like this scene--everyone so busy with something that we're not even focused on what we should be... but I won't.
I'll just say, I think Flea's Fred and Bessie would be proud.

Who's Tracking Sand all over my Blog?

Some of you more clever quackers have sleuthed out that my hubby has been lurking around here.
It really limits what I talk about (what? You don't think I show restraint?), like my lusting for certain teenage vampires or hunky Australian actors, but the fact that I am still talking can be credited to his nerdy skillz. Apparently when your broadband line is suppose to be a pathetic little 3MB but is only giving you 160Kbps, that's a bad thing.

I thought maybe you might be interested on seeing who makes up the better half of this union-- but with a warning:
Don't believe anything he says about me. It's all a pack of lies.
Like how I'm very possessive of what is mine-- "What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine", including but not limited to: towels, sides of the bed, Fred and Bessie mug, blueberry yogurts (he can have those yucky peach ones). Children behaving badly are his because I am suffering his mother's curse ("I hope you have one just like you...").

He's also a little flowery with words (sorry sweetie, you really are)--he's my romantic opposite:

His version: My beautiful eternal companion and I spent a wonderful day enjoying the sights and sounds of majestic London.
Mine: Sexy Guy and I went to the city in June.

You decide why on earth he stays with me, I haven't quite figured it out.

Give him a Hoo Rah! for me too will you? He's all alone in his concrete hovel, missing the sounds of children fighting and a nagging wife.

Great Reads for the Weekend

I have not been a very good bloggy friend. If you've noticed I haven't stopped by, it's because I've started a new blog over on cre8Buzz and it is taking all of my brain power (all 2 oz I had left) trying to customize my page. And, I still haven't sorted the mess out with my web browsers/hard drive/whatever. I am sooo left behind in this computer age.
So today, in the 5 minutes I had without an extra growth or two clinging to my leg or smearing snot onto my shirt (no, I don't mean that I am smearing snot on my shirt), I caught up on a little reading.

IF I had actually noticed that I wrote my 100th blog when I did, I might've told you 100 things about me (highly unlikely, but still). On that list would have been:
#99). I am a gleaner. Not so original, but I can glean like nobody. Scrap booking? I can monkey a page, but don't expect me to come up with my own idea. Web Surfing? The hubby often brags to his coworkers how I can manage to find the most amazing deals/photos/blogs/You Tube videos etc.... Now if I could turn that talent into a lucrative venture, hmmmmm.

#100). I share real good. (No more room to mention my eloquence and fantastical grammatical abilities).

So today in my un-interrupted 5-minute bloggy bliss, I harvested some real treasures and it's my pleasure to share them with you.

First, for a real belly laugh, check out Tammy's weekend posts (posted ahead since she somehow is escaping from real-life for the weekend). I love this girl's wit. She's the one you want sitting in your living room when you find out your hair dye (that just sat on your head for 25 minutes) has been contaminated with hair removal. You'd still laugh.

To purge yourself of any apathy that may have crept in with this crazy new ice age we've plunged into, check out a story about Allie on Such Simple Pleasures (a wonderful blog with a lot of heart).

And a beautiful picture of Olivia, the third child and only daughter of Tara-- a SAHM who is also a Pastor's Wife, living in waaaay below zero temp. in Canada.

Flea wants you to think about what's really important to you, and after you're done answering her question, see what Fred and Bessie are up to now, and check out the video of Star Wars....

David McMahon's blog is one you really can't afford to miss a day of. He posts funny news stories from around the world; beautiful, original photos and tips on how to achieve them; Post Of The Day where he honors posts he's gleaned and interviews with bloggers. Nice guy!

Last, Kathryn has just posted her 100th (dang, how did I miss this milestone? And was my 100th some lame thing? I'll have to check). She's a daily read for me, but the post that touched me the most (and put her on my computer speed dial), is the Happy Birthday Dad post she did in Nov. 2007. This is an absolute, do not miss, read.

There are others I should mention and others I read and wish I knew where the heck I found them (anybody know where I read the blog about the 20-something woman who started a cow farm with the hubby and decided to give it up and is now about to board horses????), but my freed-leg time is over... and Miss Ky has emptied out an entire box of batteries.
I love my life.

Serendipity Saturday

Today, I'm on Blogger's Post scheduler again (see me shaking in the corner? That's withdrawals, my friend. Someone has to make me back away from the computer).

But while I am moving on to actually accomplish something for once, I'm giving you some links for fantastic weekend reads.

A post to ponder: As Obvious as the Nose...
A post to learn by: Corn
A Saturday giggle with The Lehners in France-- you could start anywhere, but I'm giving you an older post about.... poo.
For a cleansing cry: RIP Punk Rock Mommy, A Day to Remember (read on for a renewed strength to face your day, My Last Blog).

BREAKING NEWS: There's been an accident involving traveling bovines and a train crossing. When Fred returns from the hospital, I will be sure to post all about it.

Things are how they are...

My friend Tara gently hinted that she had to cut back on some of her church volunteer work... it was kind of her to be gentle with me since she was listening to my list of things I don't manage to accomplish every day, but it made me realize that some people don't know how my church works.

It begins with a seemingly innocent engagement of eyes across the chapel. The connection that is very quickly broken by anybody who knows never to make eye contact with anyone from the Bishopric. Eye contact could get you a talk next Sunday, or worse, a calling other than Sunday School Door Holder.

The intimidating person in suit and tie will ask you if you could come have a chat with him in his office... and if you give the Bishop a chat, he'll want an acceptance speech to go with it...

If he leans back comfortably and asks, "Sister Molly, how are you doing?" That's never a good sign. The more concerned he is with your children, husband, dog that died two years ago etc., the worse the calling is going to be.


He may lead in with all the reasons why he feels you're good for the position. He may not. He may leave you to squirm in your seat and wish you had worn Depends that day.


However it happens, it happens and you stumble out of the building with a plastered-on smile in stunned silence.


I didn't volunteer. I still don't volunteer if you want to know the truth. I can't cut back my volunteer time (well I could by disconnecting my phone, but someone always could find me).
On a regular basis I give this kind man an opening in case he's the one squirming now--realizing he's made a huge mistake. I've even suggested some great ladies who would step into my calling quite well.
I'm blatantly dropping hints about previously being a camp director, activities chairperson, Nursery Leader (that's the first clue that I'm desperate. I lead nursery at home, do I really want to do it again at church?) but it all seems to fall on broccoli ears.

It's been a year. He's not budging-- stubborn man.

A year as Relief Society President.

A year of constant reminders that I can't do everything right.

Reminders that I am unbelievably flawed as a human.

Reminders that some people who bear brilliant testimonies of following Christ refuse to do service for many reasons and that other people who have many reasons to be very self-absorbed, serve many silently.


I'd like to think that one day I will fall into the latter category- some future Relief Society President will never know to what extent I am serving.


I'm also hoping that day isn't too far off in the future. I make eye contact all of the time now.

The Bishopric is starting to look a little nervous about the tired, disheveled woman wearing two different coloured shoes (surrounded by wiggly children) staring at them throughout the service.


I wonder if a white flag would be too much...

"Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it."

--Mahatma Gandhi

"Things are how they are, and complaining doesn't help." John H. Groberg


"Nobody cares how much you know until they know how much you care." Fred Babbel

Adventures in Bovine Land

Fred and Bessie were too excited to sleep, so we took them to Norwich's ASDA (that's Walmart to you Yanks) so that I could have my latest pyramid of photos printed. 1170 to be exact (yes, I have a problem).

We stopped into the Mickey D's to grab a CHICKEN lunch and they were immediately drawn to this sign... I didn't have the heart to tell them what it said. They thought it was a travel poster.

On the way home, they really wanted to see everything, so I hope Flea forgives me, but they didn't wear their seat belts for a little while...

They saw a roundabout (I'm not sure, but I think I heard them say "Weeee" as we went around).

They're really excited about this Dinosaur Park and want to go...

After we got home, they went off to sleep. And missed tea. and breakfast. They're really tired!

If I have this much fun with visiting cows, imagine the fun you and I could have if you'd JUST BITE THE BULLET and fly over for a cuppa! (and cream tea AFF)