As we were watching a DVD of Inspector Morse last night (alas, we've run through all the Foyle's War episodes,) I found myself thinking of our last trip to England -- a walking tour in the Cotswolds in 2006. We made our way along well-marked public paths through fields and woods and almost always, as we approached the next village, we would sight the steeple of the largest and oldest church.
We managed to visit a few stately homes and even statelier gardens but my favorite parts were less grand ... the pastures (humming 'Sheep May Safely Graze') . . .
and the tidy vegetable gardens.
The houses set me dreaming . . . how charming to live in a cottage with a thatched roof!
Or, in this house below, which I saw only at a distance. It was perhaps my favorite, isolated as few others were.
But a quick perusal of the ads offering houses for sale let us know that not in this lifetime could we ever afford property in the Cotswolds.
Not even a fixer-upper.