This last week, and the lovely four day weekend, have been just the right mixture of relaxing and eventful. Our weekend included trips to Cambridge and Bury St. Edmunds, and dinners with friends. Quite nice.
In Bury St. Edmunds we visited the Abbey ruins and gardens. The area boasts graves from as long ago as 839, gates from the 1100s and 1300s, church buildings ancient and new, and beautiful green lawns and nearly neon gardens. The colors seemed almost unnatural in the dreary, October, English weather.
The roses were on their way out for the season, but still beautiful in the rainy weather. The leaves were falling and I couldn’t help but take pictures of the beautiful reds, oranges and yellows, shiny from the rain.
It was a lovely rainy day!
This weekend we also checked out a local antique store. The sheer amount of old things in this country can be very tempting at first. An older country yields more older things, makes sense.
But realizing this means I can be patient and look for specific things when I check out antique shops, charity shops and car boot sales. My favorite thing I spotted at the antique store this time around was not for sale though… Jack.
Jack’s owner probably works at the shop, but regardless, Jack is great advertising. I couldn’t help but pop my head in the store. He also made me think of one of my favorite lines from one of my favorite movies.
I like to think Jack was looking for a sideboard to store his bones and bickies, but will struggle to find one in his price range.
Jack is the epitome of the British dog. Small, scruffy, well loved. Leather collar. Looks British. Wouldn’t look abnormal if seen smoking a pipe or wearing little tiny wellies. He probably takes his tea with milk, no sugar.
Also, this last week, we met with a surgeon and scheduled surgery to correct my pectus excavatum. (Here’s my post about that diagnosis in case you’d care to read it: https://adventuresinanglia.wordpress.com/2013/09/27/pectus-excavatum/) My surgery will be next week. If you’re the type who likes to Google medical procedures, I’ll be undergoing the Ravitch procedure. Basically, they’ll be detaching the ribs and cartridge from my sternum, positioning where it should be, and then placing a metal bar behind it. It’s about an hour and a half surgery. I’ll be in the hospital about a week afterwards, sitting perfectly flat or sitting up straight so everything can set. After that I’ll be “fairly mobile.” We’ll see if that means up and moving or controlling the pain while moving from couch to bed and back again. The bar will need to stay in for about 6 months, then it will be removed in a simple outpatient procedure. After that, I should be good to go. This might sound traumatic, but I’m so so so thankful. First of all, I haven’t been feeling great, so relief sounds like a great prospect. Secondly, when this was brought up a few weeks ago, I was half expecting to be told that the bar would have to be kept in for up to 5 years, as is common with severe pectus. 6 months is waaaayyy better than 5 years. I can endure 6 months of pain, recovery and possible boredom. Also, throughout this planning, etc. I can definitely attest to feeling the peace of God. As I mentioned before, his timing is perfect, and that is comforting. But also, God has taken away my desire to do this all on my own strength, and he’s replaced that desire with peace that can only come from Him.
“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.” -from Anne of Green Gables.
I wholeheartedly agree, and I have thought this often lately. Octobers mean change. They mean turning new corners. Octobers are beautiful leaves fluttering to the ground. Preparation for newer heartier ones. Octobers are crisp, refreshing, with just the right amount of chill. Octobers are full of promise. They taste of candy corn and peanuts. Octobers store up for rough times ahead, but always promise something better in the end. Octobers are brisk and beautiful, and full of grace.