ArfinGreebly
Moderator Emeritus
Cromlech
I spent three years there ('69-'72) with the USAF, mostly in the Midlands and Bedfordshire. I returned several years later ('79-'83) as a volunteer (rehab/education) in East Grinstead, Brighton, and London (North, South, and West).
My daughter spent three years of her youth (age 3-6) in the same Southern places, and when she went back with her (Danish) husband to wait for his permanent residence to come through, she taught at a private school in East Grinstead. She's 30 now, with 2 kids of her own.
When I was first there, I learned much by hanging out with familes that had lived through WW II, many of whom had worked to build the RAF stations where I was housed. That and, of course, chasing the local damsels.
There is a grittiness about the British that can yet be their salvation.
It may take a catastrophe to make them reach down deep and find it again.
While I am not a native, this line of Shakespeare's John of Gaunt has always resonated with me:
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
(Being the final line of this passage:
No, there is no logic to it; it is entirely a matter of the heart.
What part of southern England were you in?
I spent three years there ('69-'72) with the USAF, mostly in the Midlands and Bedfordshire. I returned several years later ('79-'83) as a volunteer (rehab/education) in East Grinstead, Brighton, and London (North, South, and West).
My daughter spent three years of her youth (age 3-6) in the same Southern places, and when she went back with her (Danish) husband to wait for his permanent residence to come through, she taught at a private school in East Grinstead. She's 30 now, with 2 kids of her own.
When I was first there, I learned much by hanging out with familes that had lived through WW II, many of whom had worked to build the RAF stations where I was housed. That and, of course, chasing the local damsels.
There is a grittiness about the British that can yet be their salvation.
It may take a catastrophe to make them reach down deep and find it again.
While I am not a native, this line of Shakespeare's John of Gaunt has always resonated with me:
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
(Being the final line of this passage:
This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
. . . from Richard II.)This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
No, there is no logic to it; it is entirely a matter of the heart.