Not an anglophile anymore (Day 10)

Not that I ever thought England was all tea and crumpets, but, well, I must have had some romantic Dickensian vision of the country. It hit me the other day that I was no longer the Anglophile I once was. Picture me kicking back to some classic Britcoms on UKTV Gold, in a rare moment between house-cleaning/working and everyday Ollie maintenance. I realized as I was watching As Time Goes By or Vicar of Dibley or some such, that they didn't hit that "Oh dear, isn't England cozy and quaint?" spot they once did.

And it's not that I hate England. Not at all. The impending move back to DC is a heartbreaking thought because I will miss my town and my job and my friends...It's just, well, England is home now, with all that is good and bad and ugly and funny and lovely. Sure, the thatched houses are hobbit-like and the country villages idyllic, but I see them all in a greater context of life and work and everyday living. If I was passing through as a tourist, I might come back to the States with that same hunky-dory, English life is ideal, tra-la-la, but I'm not a tourist. The magic is there. I still see the beauty of the old mixing with the new. But it's not with stars in my eyes. Well...Sometimes, there are stars. Cambridge is pretty spectacular, and I will miss that small city/big town feel. But the romance of something that you idealize from afar, without really knowing??? That's gone. And I feel sad about it.

Anyway. Hey-ho. I scored this amazing find at our local charity shop...

Now, there's a collection that's truly magic. Lucky for me, books never lose their lustre, especially ones fondly remembered from young adulthood. I can't wait until Ollie is old enough to enjoy this with me. He still likes to eat books, which is magic of some kind, I'm sure...