Random Thoughts

If I believed in re-incarnation (which I don't), I would be convinced that I lived in England a couple of centuries ago.  Maybe its all of those books as a child, first with nursery rhymes read to me and then fairy tales. Reading was my escape from the harsh Manitoba winters we endured, the unkind words of school bullies and not having very much compared with all my schoolmates.  I would get home from school, curl up on my bed and enter the wonderful world of Enid Blyton's Famous Five and have all kinds of adventures.  In high school I loved anything by the Bronte sisters or the darkness of Thomas Hardy's 'Tess of d'Ubervilles' and 'Far from the Madding Crowd'.
The very first time I flew to England as a nineteen-year-old and we were descending over the lush green fields and I saw the miles and miles of hedgerows and stone fences and little villages spotting the countryside, I turned to my friend beside me and said 'I feel like I've come home'.