Living Vicariously

I have a long list of places I’d love to visit one day. Whenever someone I know heads to one of those places, I often ask if they’ll visit somewhere for me. And there’s usually my roaming gnome involved.

Recently, a relative visited one of the places towards the top of my list: Oxford, England. Home of the Inkings.

He’s not as Tolkien obsessed as I am, but he agreed to go to one of their favorite haunts, the Eagle and Child. The day he sent me a picture made me squeal a little out loud.

He said it was just as good as I would have hoped for, which makes me want to go even more. In a few years, perhaps?

Do you have a long list of places you want to visit or do you prefer to stay local? Have you ever been to the Eagle and Child?

A Hobbit Day Stroll in the Garden

Somehow, it’s been nearly a month since my last post. As promised, though, I come bearing pictures of our Hobbit Day adventures.

I’ve always debated whether I’d fit in better with the Hobbits or the Elves of Middle-earth. This September 22nd, though, made me think that maybe I err more on the side of Hobbit. For one, I’m certainly not willowy and graceful. And for two, I really like food.

In either case, though, I love gardens and the outdoors, so our National Museum Day adventure to a large garden was perfect.

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Yes, the lily pads are real. They’re huge! 

Did you do anything for National Museum Day or Hobbit Day? If you lived in Middle-earth, which group would you live with?

The Strange Case of the Unexpected Tiny House

I’d say that it started as a regular day at school, but it hadn’t. It had been a week since the hurricane, and the aftermath seemed to be the only thing on everyone’s minds. Everyone felt off, but at least we all felt off together.

After class, I turned everything in to the front desk. There, the ladies were giggling. There was a strange new addition to the usual cars parked behind the building. Unable to resist, I headed back there with one of them.

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There, we found a tiny house on wheels. It definitely wasn’t what I had been expecting. No one really knew where it had come from or why it was there. Perhaps it had been parked there so that the buildings would block most of the wind? Perhaps it blew in from somewhere else, like the catfish people found on their porches?

The tiny house on wheels vanished a few days later. No one knows where it went. I like to think it’s off on a new adventure… that doesn’t involve hurricanes.