Back and Forth Across the Pond

You would think by now that I would learn that I just don't do well with down days. Whenever we go on vacation, I always figure in some down days - days where there's nothing on the agenda and we're just going to hang out. They always seem like such a good idea. At home, Steve and I both do quite well with down days. Especially after a particularly hectic week. But once we're on vacation - no matter where - down days just make me restless. And it's happened again. This weekend is a bank holiday weekend in the UK, so Monday is a day off from work and school for everyone. The archives are also closed. So I figured I would just wait until Tuesday to get to work, and give myself a few days to chill and acclimate. It'd be fun . . . WRONG! My original plans for today included a stroll around the area, but it's been cold and rainy most of the day (Well, it IS England, after all), so that idea went kaput. I ran to Leyland with my in-laws to pick up some slippers, a ...

I have arrived in England. It was so tough leaving Steve yesterday. As he walked me to security, I broke down and cried. He just held me, and then helped me fish out a tissue so I could clean up my face. It took me several minutes to compose myself and part from him. Of course, the TSA security people just HAVE to be little Napoleons, don't they? They have new rules regarding laptops. If you have the computer in its own sheath, you don't have to remove it from the bag. The sign said something like "if it's in the bag with nothing above or below it" you can keep it in the bag. I was pleased, because my new laptop is bigger than my old one and squeezing it into the little insert sleeve for my rolling laptop bag is very time consuming. So I happily removed the sheath, taking the time to remove the mousepad from its front pocket (nothing above or below) and plopped the sheath into a bin. I was carrying too much crap, so I then plunked my shoes on top of the computer. ...

In about fourteen hours, I will be on a plane to Atlanta. From there, I fly to Manchester, England, where I'm spending ten weeks doing research for my master's thesis in European history. I am looking at how the Industrial Revolution changed Steve's hometown of Preston. I want to know how a small medieval market town described by author Daniel Defoe in 1724 as a town full of attorneys was, about one hundred years later, a bustling textile hub. That's what my thesis prospectus says, anyway (albeit in a lot more scholarly words). Who knows what I'll find or where it will take me? That's half of fun of doing something like this. Or so I assume. I've never done anything like this before. In fact, this research trip makes me a real, live historian. I'm not a history major. I'm not a history grad student. I'm an historian! Makes me feel important. But I don't really feel like a historian at the moment. Right now, I'm mostly tired. I'm stayi...