November 5, 2107
Can I say that I have developed a Love-Hate relationship for Thursdays here on the London Temple grounds? Mainly, it is a day to look forward to. Yet, it can be very stressful for me. It is our van shopping day. Depending on the time our shift is working, the Earlies or the Lates, we meet at the accommodations center for our weekly van drive into East Grinstead. Our driver for our shift is Brother Allen and his wife sits up by him giving him orders along the way. Only English drivers are allowed to drive the temple van. They are wonderful people who give up a lot of their personal time each week to haul around a vanload of approximately eight temple workers, (mostly single sisters). The numbers vary each week. My Mikie and I have held up the van on occasion when one of us has to run back to the flat for our shopping bags. They are a must to shop in England. Otherwise, the stores nail you to purchase a bag from their store. We are learning it's a pretty good idea because we really don't have room to wad up all those plastic bags we typically got from Walmart or Safeway at home.
The first stop is always at Aldi's. Missouri had an Aldi's but we didn't ever shop there. We have made it a habit to jump out at the Aldi's parking lot and hightail it down to High Street. Each English town has a High Street, what we consider a Main street. There are little shops up and down the street and we are finding that we are starting to make sense of all of it. One of our stops is often the phone store to "top off" our phone card. There are charity shops dotting the street. Now, this is where it gets a little dicey for me. A charity shop is like a thrift shop at home. It's in my blood to want to nose around and see if I can pick up a few finds. It's in my Mikie's blood to NEVER shop. ANYWHERE. I try to give him "assignments" to pick up this or that along the way while I please, please just look around. I am proud to say I have found a few little items in these fun stores.
The other stress is knowing we are on the clock. That van leaves at the given time and I dread holding up the whole show. Can't find eye liner? placemats? Give it up til next week and get in that van! By the time we reach the appointed spot and climb back in the van I feel as if we have run a race collecting and gathering.
After we leave High Street, the van makes one last stop at the big market, Sainsbury. This store reminds me of our Safeway at home. A big nice market, but what in the world do we buy to eat? We grad a trolley (shopping cart - isn't that cute?) and start down the aisles. Milk and eggs are sold off the shelf. Laundry soap doesn't smell like Home, a huge source of woe for me. Washing up Liquid is sold instead of dishsoap. Cans of green chilis are unheard of. The one brand of salsa we have found tastes a bit like tomato sauce. On the other hand, the cheese is wonderful. Custard is to die for. Little mince pies are quite tasty. All the while, the clock is ticking. We are burning daylight. We race to the checkout line where the checkers all sit on chairs to service customers. I think Walmart and Safeway should follow suit. The money is kept in the" till" which is literally like a metal tin box. So quaint.
This week, on our way home, it was dark by 5:30 pm. Rain was splattering the windows. The radio was on. Brother Allen tends to listen to classical. One sister in the back asked for something more upbeat. Sister Allen took over radio duties. The songs were from the Olivia Newton John era. Now, who doesn't remember her? On the chorus', Sister Allen belts out, "Sing it, Sisters!" Now, who can sit quietly when you are ordered to sing? Even my Mikie hummed along. It was a good time.
We will get our car this week. That means we can go shopping on our own, at our own pace. We can go where we want to. It will be wonderful. But, sometimes, we might jump in the van just because we have learned to love the missionaries who ride it regularly each week. I love the conversation of sisters who found this or that bargain. I love Sister St. John, who immigrated here from Grenada. She regularly buys a little treat and shares it with us. I have developed a taste for custard, persimmons, mince pies, and R. White lemonade because she was willing to share. There is a comraderie in the van. This week there were missionaries from Thailand, Canada, Grenada, Wales, England, and the US. What better place is there to get crash courses on food and customs of the world?
I just read this rambly post and decided I better shut it down and get in bed. That's because the shopping van will turn into the travel van tomorrow morning at 9:00 as it heads out to Windsor Castle. I need a good night's sleep so we can be there early for a good seat. First come. First served.
MY LOVE, MY CHILDREN.
Sister Seaman aka Mom and Grandma
Your Proper English Lesson: *****
*keen - Alfred was keen to say the prayer in Primary today. (The kid really wanted to do it)
*trousers - boys wear these, instead of pants (pants are underwear)
*pantaloons - girls wear these, instead of panties or underwear
*If your shoes squeak over here, they must not be paid for.
******Language Disclaimer - If I repeat words from week to week, get over it. This may be due to poor record keeping on my part.
Windsor CastleAfter we leave High Street, the van makes one last stop at the big market, Sainsbury. This store reminds me of our Safeway at home. A big nice market, but what in the world do we buy to eat? We grad a trolley (shopping cart - isn't that cute?) and start down the aisles. Milk and eggs are sold off the shelf. Laundry soap doesn't smell like Home, a huge source of woe for me. Washing up Liquid is sold instead of dishsoap. Cans of green chilis are unheard of. The one brand of salsa we have found tastes a bit like tomato sauce. On the other hand, the cheese is wonderful. Custard is to die for. Little mince pies are quite tasty. All the while, the clock is ticking. We are burning daylight. We race to the checkout line where the checkers all sit on chairs to service customers. I think Walmart and Safeway should follow suit. The money is kept in the" till" which is literally like a metal tin box. So quaint.
This week, on our way home, it was dark by 5:30 pm. Rain was splattering the windows. The radio was on. Brother Allen tends to listen to classical. One sister in the back asked for something more upbeat. Sister Allen took over radio duties. The songs were from the Olivia Newton John era. Now, who doesn't remember her? On the chorus', Sister Allen belts out, "Sing it, Sisters!" Now, who can sit quietly when you are ordered to sing? Even my Mikie hummed along. It was a good time.
We will get our car this week. That means we can go shopping on our own, at our own pace. We can go where we want to. It will be wonderful. But, sometimes, we might jump in the van just because we have learned to love the missionaries who ride it regularly each week. I love the conversation of sisters who found this or that bargain. I love Sister St. John, who immigrated here from Grenada. She regularly buys a little treat and shares it with us. I have developed a taste for custard, persimmons, mince pies, and R. White lemonade because she was willing to share. There is a comraderie in the van. This week there were missionaries from Thailand, Canada, Grenada, Wales, England, and the US. What better place is there to get crash courses on food and customs of the world?
I just read this rambly post and decided I better shut it down and get in bed. That's because the shopping van will turn into the travel van tomorrow morning at 9:00 as it heads out to Windsor Castle. I need a good night's sleep so we can be there early for a good seat. First come. First served.
MY LOVE, MY CHILDREN.
Sister Seaman aka Mom and Grandma
Your Proper English Lesson: *****
*keen - Alfred was keen to say the prayer in Primary today. (The kid really wanted to do it)
*trousers - boys wear these, instead of pants (pants are underwear)
*pantaloons - girls wear these, instead of panties or underwear
*If your shoes squeak over here, they must not be paid for.
******Language Disclaimer - If I repeat words from week to week, get over it. This may be due to poor record keeping on my part.
Well, we made it all the way to Windsor Castle today. It is about 40 miles from here and directly west of London right at the end of the Heathrow airport. It took us about 2 hours to get there as the M25 ( the 5-lane freeway that circles London) was backed up as always. The Queen was in, as indicated by her flag flying from the tallest and largest turret. Had she not been there, it would have been the Union Jack flying. We tried for a picture, but it was a long ways off and can barely be seen in one of our pictures. The castle and estate of the Royal Family is huge. The castle alone dominates the sky line. It is a fancy place. It was built in the 1500's and is in pristine condition. It must cost a small fortune to operate on a daily basis. She has 120 full-time servants and butlers and others that work there. The Queen lives in the private quarters section of the whole thing, but she uses parts of the rest of it to host visiting dignitaries and shows off the possessions and so forth. It blows the mind to think of the cost to maintain the building and grounds. At 500 years old, it is not showing its age.
When I think about the long line of royal ancestors this family comes from and some of the crazy things that happened along the way (like wars, insanity, disease, etc.), and the amassed fortune that they have, due mostly to the plundering and pillaging by the old kings. I believe that it is one of the craziest stories ever. It is a story about white privilege. About which a white man could win all the marbles.
It was one of the unusually clear days today in England. The sun was all the way out, but it was cold in the shade. From the windows in the Queen's apartment, I am sure she could see a large part of her kingdom. I could see a long ways from my view. Her private garden runs 5 miles towards the north. They say you can sometimes see her walking the dog with a scarf wrapped around her head and a long coat on. They say she looks like any other 80+ year-old woman. Her husband was reportedly out driving a horse and buggy this morning.
The thought for the week is this. All the Queen's money and all the Queen's men can not save her in the celestial kingdom. When she dies, she will become like all who have gone before her. I would like to think that she might sometime accept the Savior and his teachings, which will be somewhat different than she thought. They say she is a good, God-fearing woman and does things for the poor. That may count in her favor.
If you are ever here, near London, Windsor Castle is worth the 40 pounds it cost us today.
Sincerely,
Elder Seaman
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