Lots of Fancy Piles of Stones

Back in Shrewsbury now, looking at the Abbey where Cadfael did his gardening. Not much of that abbey is left, after Henry VII closed most of it off and bribed the abbott to let it become a Church of England abbey, and after the brilliant engineer Telford decided to run a major road right through the grounds, leaving a pulpit standing rather forlornly in the middle of a garden on the opposite side of the road from the church. Progress is a funny thing.

Not much exciting news to tell, really. The rest of my visit with Nick was quite good -- the stunning Exeter Cathedral in miserable rainy conditions, delicious warming soup suitably cheaply priced for university students, wandering by the house where my father was born, a couple of good pints at a local pub, and the compelling vulgarity of tv chef Gordon Ramsay. Back in Shrewsbury, the days with Gran have a certain slow, assured sameness about them, and I'm tempering my conversations with her with exploring and lots of reading. Feeling mentally healthy because I'm reading more and watching less tv, and physically somewhat pudgy because of all the English stodge and desserts I've been eating. But with all the walking it should even out eventually, I guess.

PS -- another wondrous discovery -- squash! No, not the vegetable -- a kind of sugary drink made with a modicum of juice. A little bit of apple and blackcurrent squash in boiling water is a heavenly hot drink. I'll definately be bringing some home with me.