Today we awoke to sunshine and a full English Breakfast to start our day. That makes five days in a row in England that the weather has been sunny, warm and dry. Whenever we stop and chat with the locals, they tell us that we’ve come to England at the best time because the weather, for some reason, has been so glorious! (We know why – wink, wink – we call it showers of blessings.) Our complimentary breakfast plates arrived at our table covered with all the things you’d expect to see over here – two eggs sunny side up, a baked tomato, mushrooms, sausage, ham, and a little hash brown potato wedge. Tim took one look at the eggs and muttered, “Yuk!” just loud enough for the waiter to ignore. If there’s one thing he hates worse than onions, it’s “snotty” eggs. But, hidey-ho! What a pleasant surprise! No snot! They were somehow boiled up just right, so the day was not ruined after all. We did scrape the tomato and mushrooms off to the side, but everything else was wonderful. (More showers of blessings pouring down on us!)
Tummies full, we folded ourselves up into our little European car, and took off for Exeter to meet a new friend named Bob Reeves. He was much, much more than we ever expected. He couldn’t have been happier to see us and welcome us into his pigeon museum, I mean, his home. There were trophies, awards, newspaper clippings, special plaques, certificates, and pictures everywhere you looked. He was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met and he thoroughly enjoyed talking about pigeons. He has been raising them since he was seven, at which time he became very ill and almost died from pneumonia. In a last-ditch effort to save him, his parents asked him to choose anything he’d like to have and they would get it for him. He asked for pigeons, so they bought him four birds and put them in a cage in his room. He quickly recovered, so as far as he is concerned the pigeons saved his life. He has been breeding and racing them ever since.
Mr. Reeves joined the Navy just before WWII, and when war broke out, all of his pigeons were confiscated by the military to use for breeding carrier pigeons. All of the best pigeon fanciers were honored to have their pigeons taken to help the cause. Those fanciers who were not involved in fighting in the war were able to keep their pigeons and raise birds that were gathered by the army to be trained for combat duty. I got lots of information about how that all worked.
We then went outside to see the pigeon lofts and it was fantastic having Bob explain how the coop is laid out and how the birds are trained. We talked all about his methods of training and the dangers the pigeons face while in flight or outside of their coop. I understand the process so much better than just reading about it in a book. To think that just 24 hours earlier I had no idea who Bob was, or that Mr. Jim Stanger had set up the opportunity for me to meet with him. More showers of blessings.
He took us out to dinner (our treat) at a local pub, and then we wished him a fond farewell as we drove off in the direction of Hemyock. Thanks to our Satellite Navigation System, we found it with no problems and even managed to stay on the correct side of the road. Tim is really doing well at driving the wrong way, which is the right way, and my toes are beginning to relax.
Hemyock was gorgeous! We were amazed at the narrow, hedge-lined roads that snake through the countryside, suddenly spitting you out into farms and villages. There is just enough room for two small cars to squeeze by each other, but you can never tell when another car is coming until – YIKES – it comes speeding around the bend. But everyone just jams on their brakes, slowly oozes past each other, smiles and waves, and moves on. It is obviously a way of life and is taken in stride, and we’re getting used to it. I only screamed when we were almost mowed down by three large trucks, and when we almost ran off the road, and when the mirror on my side of the car scraped some branches, and, oh yeah, when I saw a lady walking her dog.
After Tim drove and I screamed for a while longer, we decided to head back into the center of town for our evening meal. (I think Tim just wanted to get out of the car.) We wound up in a little pub that served pizza! It was a nice treat after days and days of eating roast beef and mash. After removing all the onions and taking a few bites, we remembered that on the evening of our wedding day Tim and I went to a pizza parlor and ordered pizza while giggling over the fact that we had these new, shiny gold bands on our fingers. We were so ridiculous back then. It seemed just right that we should now be in another strange town celebrating our special day, even though our rings are duller and Tim giggles mostly about his little “squirt” who is a grown-up little nurse now. The food was great, the people were friendly, the memories were wonderful, and we topped it all off with ice cream. How many more showers could we handle in one day?
Apparently, one more. On the way back to our hotel we finally noticed a stormy horizon, and sure enough it is thundering and raining. But no worries – Matt gave us cute, little raincoats that fold up into cute, little square pouches. They are right here in my purse and we’re glad to have them. Thanks, Matt, for such a thoughtful Christmas gift, and we want you to know we needed them after all. You know how it is in England; when it rains, it pours.
Tummies full, we folded ourselves up into our little European car, and took off for Exeter to meet a new friend named Bob Reeves. He was much, much more than we ever expected. He couldn’t have been happier to see us and welcome us into his pigeon museum, I mean, his home. There were trophies, awards, newspaper clippings, special plaques, certificates, and pictures everywhere you looked. He was one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met and he thoroughly enjoyed talking about pigeons. He has been raising them since he was seven, at which time he became very ill and almost died from pneumonia. In a last-ditch effort to save him, his parents asked him to choose anything he’d like to have and they would get it for him. He asked for pigeons, so they bought him four birds and put them in a cage in his room. He quickly recovered, so as far as he is concerned the pigeons saved his life. He has been breeding and racing them ever since.
Mr. Reeves joined the Navy just before WWII, and when war broke out, all of his pigeons were confiscated by the military to use for breeding carrier pigeons. All of the best pigeon fanciers were honored to have their pigeons taken to help the cause. Those fanciers who were not involved in fighting in the war were able to keep their pigeons and raise birds that were gathered by the army to be trained for combat duty. I got lots of information about how that all worked.
We then went outside to see the pigeon lofts and it was fantastic having Bob explain how the coop is laid out and how the birds are trained. We talked all about his methods of training and the dangers the pigeons face while in flight or outside of their coop. I understand the process so much better than just reading about it in a book. To think that just 24 hours earlier I had no idea who Bob was, or that Mr. Jim Stanger had set up the opportunity for me to meet with him. More showers of blessings.
He took us out to dinner (our treat) at a local pub, and then we wished him a fond farewell as we drove off in the direction of Hemyock. Thanks to our Satellite Navigation System, we found it with no problems and even managed to stay on the correct side of the road. Tim is really doing well at driving the wrong way, which is the right way, and my toes are beginning to relax.
Hemyock was gorgeous! We were amazed at the narrow, hedge-lined roads that snake through the countryside, suddenly spitting you out into farms and villages. There is just enough room for two small cars to squeeze by each other, but you can never tell when another car is coming until – YIKES – it comes speeding around the bend. But everyone just jams on their brakes, slowly oozes past each other, smiles and waves, and moves on. It is obviously a way of life and is taken in stride, and we’re getting used to it. I only screamed when we were almost mowed down by three large trucks, and when we almost ran off the road, and when the mirror on my side of the car scraped some branches, and, oh yeah, when I saw a lady walking her dog.
After Tim drove and I screamed for a while longer, we decided to head back into the center of town for our evening meal. (I think Tim just wanted to get out of the car.) We wound up in a little pub that served pizza! It was a nice treat after days and days of eating roast beef and mash. After removing all the onions and taking a few bites, we remembered that on the evening of our wedding day Tim and I went to a pizza parlor and ordered pizza while giggling over the fact that we had these new, shiny gold bands on our fingers. We were so ridiculous back then. It seemed just right that we should now be in another strange town celebrating our special day, even though our rings are duller and Tim giggles mostly about his little “squirt” who is a grown-up little nurse now. The food was great, the people were friendly, the memories were wonderful, and we topped it all off with ice cream. How many more showers could we handle in one day?
Apparently, one more. On the way back to our hotel we finally noticed a stormy horizon, and sure enough it is thundering and raining. But no worries – Matt gave us cute, little raincoats that fold up into cute, little square pouches. They are right here in my purse and we’re glad to have them. Thanks, Matt, for such a thoughtful Christmas gift, and we want you to know we needed them after all. You know how it is in England; when it rains, it pours.
1 comment:
Wow! What a day! I hope you got lots of pictures of the pigeon coops for me to illustrate:)
Grace can't wait to see you, Mom Mom and Poppy.
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