Well,not really, but I did visit an Inn where several scenes were filmed in the TV series, Inspector Morse. Morse, the cranky detective, is shown having a beer usually bought by his detective, Lewis, along side the river where water is rushing over a spillway. It is a beautiful setting and was the spot for a great late lunch with a friend. Did I mention I am in England? My friend is house sitting in a gorgeous place in the Cotswolds. I was invited for a few days and, as soon as I bought my Eurostar tickets, took the train, then the London Underground, and then a bus, here I was. We are having a great time.

The sign for The Trout Inn, a really wonderful place.

The front of the Inn. Isn’t the architecture great?

A lovely bridge spanning the river.

The spillway.

Our delicious lunch with the spillway in the background.

A view downstream.

Several people have left comments wondering how I got my grandchildren to lie still for the photo of their feet. Believe me, it wasn’t easy. Here are some examples:

Micah has his hands up and Holden is pointing his toes.

Michah put up one hand and Holden is still pointing his toes.

Holden put his head up and I don’t like the babies feet that way.

The baby moves his feet and Holden bends his knee.

Finally I got everyone with their feet still. Do a little cropping and Voila, as they say in France or, Bob’s your uncle, as they say in England.

Well, it’s over. They’re gone. It was fun and I have to say I am totally worn out but had such a good time. I had the three oldest grandchildren for four days while their parents went for a short trip to Paris with the baby. I think they all had a good time and got to watch way more TV than they ever have. They played some children’s video games that I found online and because we didn’t have enough books I ended up reading books to them from the Internet, or a voice read the book while pictures were shown. One they especially liked was one called Enemy Pie. The two year old like Tommy the Train which I had more than enough of.

Number one is serious and sensitive and he told me some things that he worried about, especially the coming school year as his Italian isn’t fluent yet. He watched out for the other two and told me if they were doing something they shouldn’t have. He is six and can read books at the third and fourth grade level. Maurice is always teasing me when he sees me eating a snack or a piece or candy and will say, “Is it good? Is it very good?” It drives me crazy. Anyway, he started saying the same thing to the kids. Jackson came up to me in private and said, “Can you make Maurice stop saying that to me? It really bothers me.” Of course once Maurice heard this, he said it even more. Number one also said, “You know what? Sometimes when Maurice talks, I don’t understand what he is saying.” I just told him, “Sometimes, I don’t either.”

Number two is four years old with white blond hair and dark green eyes. He likes to cuddle and often sat on my lap whenever I sat down, usually at the computer. I took them all on a walk to the nearby village cemetery. They asked where the people were buried and I explained that they were in the ground under the grave markers in coffins. Number two said, “They cough in there?” I think of the three, he likes my chocolate chip cookies the best and even asks if he can have one after breakfast.

Number three is the comedian at age two. He has no trouble keeping up with the older two although he does fall occasionally. He apparantly heard our discussions about Maurice asking about how we liked our food. One day he had his mouth full chewing while he seriously looked at Maurice. When his food was all chewed up and swallowed he said, “It is really good, Maurice?” He can drive older brother number two crazy when he tell him that he, Number 3, is Number 2. He’s learned exactly how to make his brother mad and he is very good at it.

Number three is the watermelon kid. He couldn’t eat enough and I had to stop him from eating the rind.

After the concert in the abbey we headed home and decided on impulse to stop for a drink at Cucuron, a little village near us.

The best part of Cucuron, in my opinion, is the basin once used for tanning surrounded by 200 year old plane trees. Plus, the sun was just setting which is my favorite part of the day, with soft light and cool air.

Reflections in the water.

Looking up.

I know I said I wouldn’t post any more photos of this type of subject (won’t say what to keep away weird searches) but this is number 4. We were at a market, mostly in the shade but any time we wandered into the sun there were comments on getting him a hat. In fact, four women, one at a time, came up and told us that. We felt so guilty we went and bought this one at the market of the village we were in. Does it get any sweeter than this?

We attended a really good concert held in the Silvacane Abbey. It is one of the three Cistercian abbeys in Provence known as the “three sisters of Provence” (”les trois soeurs provençales”), the other two being Sénanque Abbey and Le Thoronet Abbey.

It is late 12th or13th century, mostly Romanesque, with some Gothic elements. As is usual with early Cistercian buildings, the focus of the architecture is entirely on simplicity, austerity and harmony. The church interior, without decoration or distraction, is an outstanding example of 12th century Cistercian architecture. (This is information I found on the internet)

A view of the interior. It is a totally empty building, just a shell, although it may have always been like that being Cistercian.

The concert was at the early hour of 6 PM so the sun was setting and pouring through the windows directly on to the singers who were dressed in black and also under some spot lights. The are called the Choeur d’Hommes du Collegium Vocale Gent, a group from Belgium. It was really great to hear them sing acapella with their voices soaring with the great accoustics in the abbey. There was also a fabulous pianist, Frank Braley, also from Belgium. All of the music was Schubert and in German. German, Latin, all the same to me. I could imagine the ghosts of Cistercian monks listening to the music with pleasure.

A view of the cloisture there.