I’d lick it too. Wait… what?

Day 2 of the ATP World Tour Finals saw Rafael Nadal succumb yet again to his French Open foe, Robin Soderling, in straight sets while Novak Djokovic gutted out a 3-set win over Nikolay Davydenko.

Rafa is nowhere near his best yet but he still has some more WTF tennis to play and hopefully he can somehow pull enough wins/sets to make the semis. Although I have to admit, it’s not looking very good at the moment. Final score: Robin Soderling def Rafael Nadal 6-4, 6-4.

Nole and Kolya both played well and their match could have gone either way. Nole was just a tad steadier towards the end. At 5-4 in the third and serving for the match, he lost his serve and surely could have gone bonkers after that. He didn’t, held his nerve, broke back and then finally served the match out. Final score: Novak Djokovic def Nikolay Davydenko 3-6, 6-4, 7-5.

Here’s where the boys stand at the end of Day 2:

Tomorrow will feature Muzz vs RF. Holy shit.

Image via Getty

Pic by Englishhistory.net

Queen Elizabeth I, before becoming queen, was subject to intense scrutiny and threats due to her predisposition for Protestantism. Poised with the possibility of becoming queen, the prospect of her rule threatened to eradicate Catholicism from presiding over the affairs of England. Moved from the Tower of London (where her mother was executed) to Woodstock where she was housed for nearly a year as a virtual prisoner, she once carved grafitti into a window with a diamond:

Much suspected by me,
Nothing proved can be.

Quod Elizabeth the prisoner

1554-55

During the 2nd ODI, there was an ever so brief moment where England’s two South African natives — Kevin Pietersen and Jonathan Trott — combined at the pitch for a partnership. Sure, Pietersen got out for 4, but it was quite a sight to behold in front of the South African crowd.

Taken in with Mahmood and Rashid and Morgan, England’s colonial transformation is near-complete. Eat it, Norman Tebbit.

Geoff Boycott’s commenting for the South Africa-England series. He’s full of great gems, and he didn’t disappoint during the 2nd ODI’s broadcast. He noted at some point in the match that while England weren’t favorites to win the series, it wasn’t advisable to count them because “when South Africa are the favorites, they never win.” Snap!

But Boycott also comes off like an inappropriate uncle these days. I think he thinks his advanced age allows him to speak his mind, consequences be damned (the man, after all, has faced cancer). During discussion about Johan Botha’s action — the bowler’s doosra was recently disqualified — Boycott kept going on (and on) about a perceived double standard that allows Murali to bowl, but not Botha.

Why is this annoying? Well, first, it’s not just that these are two separate subjects (does Murali have to be brought up when any bowler is put through the ringer?). It’s also that Boycott’s tone was just so imperious and naughty; he knew what he was saying was inappropriate (because, again, Murali’s action has been cleared before) but he just said it to the point it became clear he just wanted to put down Murali than say anything constructive about Johan Fucking Botha.

Has Stuart Clark done something to offend? It seems incredible that the man who burst onto the test arena and showed the consistency of Glen McGrath has been left out of the first test against the West Indies.

He was only selected in two test matchs during the Ashes series in England although admittedly in the second innings the Australian attack was pretty impotent. Whereas one has to wonder had he been selected earlier would the Ashes be back in England.

With 94 wickets at an average of 23.86 and a bowler who has proved he can tie batsmen down, you would have thought that he would be the sort of bowler the selectors would be knocking down his door to have him out on the pitch. His age 34, could be one factor that goes against him, as they try to rebuild, but experience counts for a great deal and as long as he is fit why not play him, especially if he is the best or one of the best options available.

Many have questioned the selections of Messer’s Hilditch, Merv Hughes, David Boon and Jamie Cox, and this would appear to be another strange one. In terms of experience these are all, with the exception of Hilditch youngish men to be given the task of selecting the best team, and they seem to lack the knowledge and experience of selectors of the past in working out how to blend a team and bring talented individuals together and maintain a winning formula. The team does not appear balanced, to be the one the captain wants, or a happy one.

One wonders if the intellectual Clark who is studying for a Masters in Commerce is a little too highbrow for the dressing room, and the selectors, hence his non-selection. After all Bob Willis admitted that when he was captain of England he preferred not to have talented left arm spinner and Cambridge university educated Phil Edmonds in the side, as he found his caustic wit too much to cope with.

Surely this is not the real reason behind Clark not being selected?

Whatever the reason he may look forward to taking his frustration out on WA in the Sheffield Shield.

Silversea Spirit

Silversea Silver Spirit Courtesy of Silversea Cruises and By Linda Garrison, About.com Guide to Cruises

BIRD’S EYE VIEW OF SILVER SPIRIT SEA TRIALS from Silversea on Vimeo.

London Eye Photography by Martin Worster, originally uploaded by MartinWorster.

A lovely view of the Houses of Parliament in London taken from the London Eye. It’s a magical view – I half expected to see Peter Pan fly across the roofs…

Speaking of industrial history – I must recommend Catherine Gaskell’s North and South. A brilliant novel of England and the industrialism in the 19th century, people, class, relations and a little bit of love. Also written by a lady with a sharp mind. It never turns into a political manifesto, but still manages to describe the time and its people, relations, opportunities and problems. Even if Catherine Gaskell is one of the big writers from that era, her books are not as widely known of as Jane Austen’s novels, but they are, just like Austens novels, still worth reading. North and South was also made into a BBC mini series a while ago, but the book is far better and more nuanced.

Este sin embargo, una vez mas, fué mucho mas trepidante. Una vez mas, futbol inglés en estado puro.

Y eso que este no es el mismo United de hace dos años, le falta algo mas de punch, de velocidad en los últimos metros, sigue tratando muy bien el balón, dominando los partidos, defendiendo bien pero…..no se, algo falta, está como algo mas lento y adelante se muestra fallón y con menos profundidad.

El Everton dió la cara y hasta que recibió el primer gol, con menos técnica, un futbol mas directo, mas arcaico pero agresivo y sin dar un balón por perdido, resistió bien, pero en cuanto cayó el primero el partido se convirtió en algo plácido para el United.

El resultado pudo incluso ser mas amplio, pero insisto, este United tiene una marcha menos que el de otras temporadas y, desde luego, no lo esperaba ya que jugadores tiene y además con lo que cobró por el…pero si, se nota la falta de Cristiano Ronaldo, este le daba otro aire, otra velocidad, mas profundidad.

Mención aparte merece Owen que desperdició claras ocasiones de gol lo que le pone muy dificil, ya que tuvo la titularidad ante la falta de Berbatov, el llegar al mundial, ha desperdiciado una gran oportunidad y a veces estorbó a su propio equipo.

Lo peor es que mucho me temo que el Chelsea camina muy firme este año.

LA JORNADA

CLASIFICACIÓN

Kate Langenburg/A&E Groove

Yes, it’s yet another blog post about a book I’ve recently read. This one I enjoyed thoroughly, mainly because the main character was such a nut.

Goodnight, Steve McQueen by Louise Wener is a novel about trying too hard, or in some cases, not enough. It all begins with England native Steve McQueen, who likes to be called Danny. He lives in an apartment with his girlfriend Alison and things don’t seem to be going so well for their relationship. Then she gets a temporary job hours away…and decides that he needs to grow up or get out.

See, Danny is 29 years old, jobless, and has been living in the daydream that he’ll somehow strike it big with his band. Alison pays for everything. Things start to look up for Danny when his band is allowed to go on tour with a well-known rock group. But he also suspects Alison might be cheating on him.

This book is a bit like High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, but way better. Especially because I wasn’t thinking about John Cusak while I was reading it. I REALLY liked Danny — his idiosyncracies make him loveable, even though sometimes you want to see him get pushed under a bus. He’s nervous, he’s anxious, he’s worried, he always says and does the wrong things, but he’s enjoyable. It’s interesting that this was written by a woman. The male point of view is excellent here.

The story is also filled with other great characters like Kostas, the owner of the video shop Danny works at. And also Sheila, an old lady with an obsession for bloody kung fu movies. Even the other members of Danny’s band are all great in their own ways.

It’s a nice easy read if you don’t want anything too complex. Just kick back and enjoy this “brit lit.”

Man trapped in 23-year ‘coma’ reveals horror of being unable to tell doctors he was conscious

A car crash victim has spoken of the horror he endured for 23 years after he was misdiagnosed as being in a coma when he was conscious the whole time.

Rom Houben, trapped in his paralysed body after a car crash, described his real-life nightmare as he screamed to doctors that he could hear them—but could make no sound.

‘I screamed, but there was nothing to hear,’ said Mr Houben, now 46, who doctors thought was in a persistent vegatative state.

‘I dreamed myself away,’ he added, tapping his tale out with the aid of a computer.

Mail Online

I finished sewing the dresses for Larisa, who is playing Lydia in P&P, in the nick of time. The lame pattern had these cute, inefficient draw strings at the neck and the empire waist…. that just produced a gaping hole with white skin showing on the back.  So I sewed the cord in place, chopped it off and put in a zipper.  Whew.  No ivory skin beaming forth.   I also made a green gown that had four handmade roses on it… which were also finished the night before the show.  WHEW, again.  The cute lavender dress kept blowing open in the back because the snaps and hooks wouldn’t hold up to Larisa’s flamboyant movements.  So I added some hooks and the squeezed them all tight with pliers…. and the dress stayed shut… but was very difficult to get off!

There is some sort of anti-family-photo regulation with the shows, so only the staff photographer can take any pictures.  So we’ll have to wait for those, which are always fabulous, by the way.  I just hate waiting.  AND I forgot my camera for before and after the shows… so I have no pictures.  But, alas, another dad posted pictures on facebook and I lifted one so you could see just the top of the cute lavender dress:

This is post-production hair that has been flattened by matching bonnets, by the way.  And that is Matt, aka Mr. Darcy…. and Hannah, aka Kitty, in the background.

So the Friday night show was a packed house and they had to bring in more chairs.  With such a lively crowd, the cast was also lively and the show was fantastic, if I do say so myself.  Larisa’s portrayed the giggly 16-year-old, Lydia, who runs away with Mr. Wickham…. the floozy.  But I must say, she portrayed her quite vivaciously and was the true comedy relief of the show…. bouncing, smiling, fluttering, primping, swaying, flirting, and on and on.  Makes a mama proud…. well, her ACTING ability…. not the floozy part.  )

Watchman, tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are.
Traveler, o’er yon mountain’s height,
See that glory beaming star.
Watchman, does its beauteous ray
Aught of joy or hope foretell?
Traveler, yes—it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel.

Watchman, tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends.
Traveler, blessedness and light,
Peace and truth its course portends.
Watchman, will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler, ages are its own;
See, it bursts o’er all the earth.

Watchman, tell us of the night,
For the morning seems to dawn.
Traveler, darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror are withdrawn.
Watchman, let thy wanderings cease;
Hie thee to thy quiet home.
Traveler, lo! the Prince of Peace,
Lo! the Son of God is come!

John Bowring [Sir] died this date, 11/23/1872, at Devon, England.  His trade/ manufacture was in woolen goods.  It was so extensive that it increased his natural abilities in languages.  One report has him flu­ent in over twenty (20) lan­guages and speaking eighty (80) more.  Another report would place his speaking skills as high as a hundred (100) languages with a limited knowledge of up to two hundred (200).  In either case he had a phenomenal God–given strength and seems could carry on business in following named tongues: Boheman, Danish, Dutch, French, German, Italian, Polish, Portuguese, Russian, Serbian, Spanish, Swedish. 

He served twice in Parliament, held several high government positions to foreign countries including being the governor of Hong Kong, and was knight by Queen Victoria.  In addition to all the worldly fame he had a deep interest in God as the above hymn shows and as his additional twenty (20) some others show.  His more famous one is “In the Cross of Christ I Glory” – see 10/17/2009 of this blog.

Simian Mobile Disco consists of producers James Ford and Jas Shaw from England.  Musically they are from somewhere else completely.  Combining styles of house and electro spanning several decades the result is a high-octane danceable pop heavy with vocals and hooks.

IN 2007 Simian Mobile Disco dropped their first album, Attack Decay Sustain Release.   The album quickly earned them underground success and has resulted in the groups accelerating fame.  Below is the lead single from Attack Decay Sustain Release:  ‘It’s the Beat’

Darcy’s Passions: Pride and Prejudice Through His Eyes by Regina Jeffers

This book vacillated between two and maybe three and a half stars (out of five) for me. The author did a good job of fleshing out the story while sticking to Jane Austen’s framework. She paraphrases from the original, which I don’t mind, but sometimes ends up changing the intent. (The original is better.) It begins just after Bingley has taken Netherfield Park, and ends with a New Year’s party at Pemberley two months after the weddings. The last third of the book covers those two months. Here is where it got a bit tedious for me. If you like romance stories, and don’t mind the constant mutual adoration going on (with a few little slips into self-doubts) then this is the book for you. I got a little tired of the affectedness of italicizing words for emphasis, and the female characters repetitive giggling over everything. There are also some annoying misuses of words, and mispellings (like “peaked his curiosity… Arghhh!) The author tries to make it sexually titillating, but never delivers anything explicit. That could be a plus or a minus depending on what you like. I found it very distracting, and really not in the style of Jane Austen. It’s everything I hate about romances without much substance. Her insights into Darcy and his behavior lifted the book out of mediocrity. On the whole, it wasn’t bad.

Book Description from Amazon:
Witty and amusing, this novel captures the original style, themes and sardonic humor of Jane Austen’s novel while turning the entire story on its head in a most engaging and entertaining fashion. Darcy’s Passions tells the story of Fitzwilliam Darcy and his obsession with the most impossible woman—Elizabeth Bennet.

It presents Darcy as a man in turmoil. His duty to his family and his estate demand he choose a woman of refined tastes. Yet, what his mind tells him to do and what his heart knows to be true are two different things. He loves a woman he first denies for being unworthy, but it is he who is found wanting when Elizabeth Bennet refuses his proposal of marriage. Devastated, he must search his soul and transform himself into the man she can love and respect.

Fitzwilliam Darcy in the original Pride and Prejudice is a major “minor” character. He is the hero of the tale, but the reader never really knows how he creates the changes we accept as part of his personality. This book tells how Darcy found the way within himself to become the hero, and not the villain, of this beloved tale.

Move over big brother, here we come. That is what a tiny nation of a little over 5 million people will be saying to the Czechs. In the summer of 2010, Slovakia’s footballers will be in South Africa playing in the World Cup for the first time as an independent nation. Qualifying top of Group 3 in the European zone, ahead of traditional powerhouses like Czech Republic, Poland and Northern Ireland, Vladimir Weiss’s men have done themselves and their nation proud.
There is an immense need in Bratislava to stop being the little brother to the big shot Czech Republic, especially in sport. The two countries used to be one and after their split in 1993, the Czechs have been a powerful force in European soccer. The very fact that the neighboring countries had been drawn together in a qualifying group was an exciting chance for the improving Slovaks. It had happened in qualifying for World Cup 1998 and Euro 2008, but Slovakia was always an also-ran. This time they made sure that things were different. With seven wins out of 10 and the most goals scored (22) in the qualifying journey, the Slovaks proved all their doubters wrong. Not to mention beating the Czechs in their own den, 2-1. A corner had been turned in Slovak football.

They earned their place in football’s grandest stage by beating Poland 1-0, fighting blizzard conditions and fevered expectations of a nation. “I love these players,” said Slovakia’s Coach Vladimír Weiss after the victory, earned after a third minute own-goal by the Poland defender Seweryn Gancarczyk. He said, “In these qualifiers we have played well and had a little bit of luck. Everybody made a contribution and we made the whole of Slovakia happy. This is a fantastic feeling. He added, “Several people maybe didn’t believe in us. But we succeeded. I am proud of these guys and this triumph.” The team’s achievement can best be quantified by looking at the opposition they will now face in South Africa lining up against the likes of Germany, Italy, Spain, England, Holland, Brazil, Argentina, Portugal, France and United States. With not many marquee players in the squad, this team has been a revelation throughout the qualifying campaign. The likes of Marek Hamsik, Martin Skrtel, Stanislav Sestak, Marek Cech and Vladimir Weiss Jr. will rub shoulders with the very best of the world in South Africa.

It has been a qualifying campaign full of surprises and magic. With as many as five debutants in 2010 – Slovakia, Slovenia, Serbia, Honduras and North Korea and countries like Algeria and New Zealand qualifying after long gap -, it will be a tournament to watch. The countdown to an exciting summer in South Africa has just begun.

This sounds like a job for you. I truly shouldn’t laugh, but the way PMP Tom Bannister, owner of ATB Pest Control in March, England, describes the potential invasion of the city by rats stands in stark contrast to the reaction of the public officials, who seem to be taking the pending apocalypse with typical British sang-froid. Clearly, the council members are not the victims of the rat attacks.

Since Bobby is busy doing such great work with New York, perhaps we can find someone else to help the city out. Dale Kaukeinen, anyone?

Brazilian footballers tend to take a more cavalier approach to making the distinction between given names and nicknames. Hence a good proportion of the boys in yellow run around with something a little out of the ordinary written across their shoulders. This ranges from the amusingly prosaic like Fred, Jo or my personal favourite, Tim, to the scatalogically infantile such as Kaka and Dudu. 

But sometimes the choice of moniker can represent an unfair advantage. During England’s one-sided friendly in Doha last week Givanildo Vieira de Souza was brought on to make his debut. Otherwise known as Hulk. The provenance of this sobriquet is disputed but what is certain is that it strikes fear into the heart of any opposition defence. Hulk is aptly named: muscular, stocky and a generally a nuisance. Particularly when he’s angry.

I’d argue that Fifa should introduce a law that entitled every international team to adopt this relaxed approach to player’s name, but Wazza, Crouchy and JT don’t really share that same sense of menace.

Nå sitter jeg og ser på onepiece drakter på nettet. Jeg har alltid syntes at de ser litt harry ut, og jeg synes fortsatt det, men de ser også utrolig deilige ut. Perfekt for hyttetur og som kosedress, tenker nå jeg.

I dag var det fagdag i engelsk. Det var egentlig ganske greit, siden vi fikk se på film.
Vi så på “This is England” og den var faktisk ganske spennende. Og litt trist. Og morsom.
Har du sett den kanskje?
Etterpå skulle vi skrive et “film review”, og det tok lenger tid enn Mia og jeg beregnet, så i de siste minuttene ble det virkelig hastverk. Men vi fikk levert, og jeg tror det gikk greit.
Jeg ble også møtt hjemme med engelsk skriftlig karakter, og den sa 5! Ah, ihverfall noen fag jeg får til på skolen atm.

Dagen i dag har som sagt gått til skole, men jeg har også vært sammen med Mia (en annen Mia), og det var såklart megakoselig. Vi fikk oppdatert hverandre om alt mulig sladder siden vi går på hver vår skole, og vi spilte en haug med spill. Savner å ha så lite tid med venner, virkelig.

Nå er det snart slutten på november allerede, og det er på tide å tenke på julegaver. Lurer på hva jeg gjør i år…

Yesterday was Stir Up Sunday, and we spent most of the very wet and windy afternoon making our Christmas Cake as tradition requires.

(Warning due to appalling weather, there is not much gardening in this post)

Why Stir Up I hear you ask? Because in the Anglican Church, on the Sunday before Advent the Book of Common Prayer has the following collect for the day :

Stir-up, we beseech thee, O Lord, the wills of thy faithful people; that they, plenteously bringing forth the fruit of good works, may of thee be plenteously rewarded; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

And we along with many many other Anglican families have always used this timely reminder to  make our Chirstmas Cakes(and in my grand mother’s time, Christmas Puddings complete with silver sixpence ) stirring them up on this day.

This task has in recent years fallen onto the capable shoulders of my wonderful daughter: she was the star of her school’s Christmas Cake Club. She takes her task very seriously… this is last year’s  fine effort, complete with Snowman and edible glitter

Lets see how she does it, shall we? First, she selects her favourite A and J Young bowl, then creams butter and muscavdo sugar together.Then she adds the eggs..one by one

…beating the mixture well, after every addition

Then she adds the four and the mixed spice and cinnamon…..

Stirring it all together….just as the collect advises….;-)

Then  she adds the grated ring of an unwaxed lemon….

Raisins….

Currants….

Glace Cherries and Mixed Peel

By this time the mixture is getting heavy..which is why I can’t do this well any more…and the final addition,chopped almonds,goes in

Then we all line up, from youngest to oldest to have Our Stir of the mixture, from East to West ,in honour of the Three Wise Kings, making our wish as we do so ( Shh! Don’t tell anyone what you wished for or it will not come true!)

So first it was my son….

then my daughter….

then me…..

….then the French Scholar.

My Dear Daughter then filled th prepared baking tin, making a well in the top

….and we licked the bowl clean(shh!! dont tell the hygiene police!!)

It cooked very slowly overr night in the bottom oven of the range cooker…and now it is ready to be fed with brandy over the next two weeks before we begin to plan the decoration.

End result, a kitchen that smelt delicious, a cake and a very satisfied and proud  Dear Daughter having done her bit for Christmas 2009

From the pages of the Student Journal from Easter Term 1923:

January 12th:     Today brought us back to Scale How. We were very pleased to be back, but felt rather overwhelmed by the thirty juniors. The Dragon is complete and very splendid; what a dance floor! The Millet Room has become a dormitory and six juniors are to sleep there. The usual number of juniors are at Fairfield, and the seven X’s are at Dr. Allue’s. We just fit in. We were disappointed that Miss Mason was not able to see us. She had been ill during the holidays and was not able to greet us as usual.

January 14th:     We are all very anxious about Miss Mason. Whe is unconscious now, and is hardly expected to last the night.

January 15th:     We are all much more hopeful. Miss Parish told us that Miss Mason had a good night.

Tonight we were less hopeful again. Miss Mason has never regained consciousness, and we were afraid that she could not last long. She has had two nurses. Mrs. Franklin and Miss Williams arrived tonight.

January 16th:     This morning at about mid-day, while we were doing exams, Miss Williams, Miss Parish and Miss Kitching came into the classroom and told us that Miss Mason had passed away peacefully in her sleep. We stood for five minutes for prayer.

Dr. Hugh came this evening to talk to us about Miss Mason. The school children came up to hear him. We sang two of Miss Mason’s favourite hymns and Dr. Hugh read some prayers.

January 17th:     Those who wished were allowed to go into the drawing room and see Miss Mason. She looked perfectly beautiful and much younger. Her face was so restful, and the lines had gone.

Mrs. Franklin talked to us about Miss Mason this afternoon.

January 19th:     Miss Mason’s funeral was at 2:15 pm. There were lovely flowers and beautiful wreaths, several students carried some.

I sat at the long table in that tiny library sifting and sorting through yellowed documents and photos and old journals and record books with worn and crumbling covers…these words from a journal kept by the students at the Teacher’s College were found amongst such a pile. How touching to read them in a hand written by a young woman who had been molded and shaped by Miss Mason’s teaching and instruction. Yet how odd it felt to sit there and read it…I almost felt like I was intruding on something sacred. I wonder if that young lady had any idea that one day a mother, whose own teaching has been molded and shaped by Miss Mason, would sit and read the account of those January days and feel herself carried back in time to the moments and events so briefly and succinctly described on the page. For a moment I shared in her sorrow, I felt myself moved and touched, as if I stood amongst those teachers during their five minutes of silent prayer, reviewing in my mind all the ways I have been blessed by the life of Charlotte Mason.

The journal entry was one of the last of the archives that I reviewed and recorded for my personal use, and appropriately so. We spent our last moments in the library chatting with Margaret and taking a quick look at the collection of Beatrix Potter’s watercolour paintings on display at the museum. Then we stepped out into the drizzle to snap some pictures of the buildings on campus and wander around Ambleside, exploring it’s shop-lined streets and odd corners and alleys.

We made our way home along the shore of Lake Windermere…I tried to call my mother, as it was her birthday and such a fun idea to call her from Ambleside! She was out, so we instead called the children and chatted with them on our rainy drive back to the cottage. I threw together a quick dinner of salmon and some fine beans (early, thin green beans). A steaming pot of tea and a warm bowl of sticky toffee pudding topped off the night.

Wednesday was a funny day…we knew we were to expect heavy rain. We slept in late and regaled ourselves with our “usual” large English breakfast. I braved the rain to duck in and out of village shops, collecting delightful treasures for loved ones. We wandered over to the Priory in the afternoon for an interesting tour led by one of the village “locals”, a member of the parish. A quick “tea” to hold us over, and an hour or two of lounging and reading. Then we decided to leave early to head off to our dinner reservations, so we could walk around and explore before going in for dinner. If you are ever in the area, I highly recommend The Punch Bowl!

Lovely dining room. Delicious gastropub dinner. Incredible dessert. I literally wanted to ask if they had an opening for the following night…even after paying the bill!

We made our way back “home” and prepared for the next day, our last full day in the Lake District.