It didn’t hail or sleet today! A “fine English rain” (the kind that comes straight down) showed up just as we left for Chesterfield to find a battery charger---just minutes after I realized that I no longer had my prescription sunglasses in my purse-or in the rental car—or in my jacket pocket---or in the couch under the cushions or in cousin John’s car. Shit!
The good news is that we got a wham-bang-doozie of a universal battery charger that adapts to all of the various worldwide electrical volts that we might ever need. Crazy wonderful, I say!
To get the charger we drove to Chesterfield and landed there on yet another Market Day. I was sorely tempted by the ankle length three tiered tie-dyed skirt with the mint green daisy-appliqued tee-shirt. My need to avoid hippy frumpiness happily over-rode my sense of kitchiness. The market square of Chesterfield is a warren of alleys and pedestrian walk-ways (except for the occasional delivery van that comes barreling through), and cobblestone and brick streets and sidewalks. It is necessary to keep all the eyes in your head wide open to avoid pedestrians, vans, poll-takers, and lumpy sidewalks. Crowning the market square is
the famous “Crooked Spire.” We did not spend more than a few minutes in the church itself so I cannot tell you why the spire is crooked or even the name of the church. What a blasé traveler I have become…or perhaps it is that the sun FINALLY broke through for a few moments and I was blinded without the aid of my prescription (read that as 5 prescriptions in veraleux graduated non-line bifocals with prisms and corrective color – or the most expensive piece of adaptive and corrective equipment that I own…whimper) glasses. Despite the veritable throng of opticians in the many lanes and alleys, not a one had a pair of clip on sunglasses that would save me from the brutal glare of thirty minutes of sun. Then it was back to dodging the rain, trying to find a bathroom in conjunction with a spot to stop and eat. All were accomplished except for a pair of clip-on sunglasses, and we left Chesterfield in a very round-about (yes, I intended that pun) manner.
Here is something I learned today: even though it was near snowing temperature, it is impossible to find gloves in England once “winter” is
over. It is 30 degrees!!! I call that WINTER! Walking through an English department store in May at 30 to 40 degrees is very much like walking through a California department store in May preparing for an 80 to 100 degree season…all short sleeve and sleeveless t-shirts, shorts, and capris. Gee, these women are tough! And speaking of tough, the new fashion fad in England….black tights as pants. No matter your age or size, put on a pair of black tights, a semi-longish t-shirt (butt coverage is optional, apparently) and a pair of boots and English women from 16 to 86 are “dressed” in the fashion of la monde. Sorry to be bitchy, but it really doesn’t always work...really…
Now back to our Farmhouse for one last night. We have had a last deep fried and stomach churning pub dinner and returned to the upstairs “lounge” to watch BBC History Programs (not Pawn Store Heroes or Top Gear--, but real history programs about space exploration and history programs😉 the laundry has dried on the racks perched over the boiler for house heating (no clothes dryer up here in the tough north), and what clothes needed to be ironed and
folded and packed into suitcases.
Tomorrow we check out at 10AM and so I bid you good night for a bright and early morning. We probably won’t write tomorrow. We are on the road to Chester and then to the Manchester Airport for the trip to Dublin. We are both so looking forward to the next phase in Ireland! We will most likely not check in tomorrow as we arrive in Dublin after 10PM. But, we will talk with you soon.
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