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I woke up after 12 hours of sleep. This still, mind, put me behind, but I was definitely feeling better. After breakfast and coffee, I footed it to the British Museum. It’s a little more than two miles there, through posh and weekend-quiet parts of the city. Today, I decided, would be entirely dedicated to that edifice. When we last went to London, we saved the British Museum for the last part-day we were here. We lamented that we had not allocated it more of our precious time. I mean, who needs to eat? Sleep? Shop? Piffle! I decided not to make that mistake this time and gave the museum 50% of my time in London.

What I wanted to see - the Oliphant

What I wanted to see – the Oliphant

Yeah. Why did I eat? Sleep? Shop? Seriously? I barely made it through two sections! I decided that in honor of my sons, I’d do the mummy section. I’d have lunch. Then for me I’d do the early Britain and Medieval England session with a long loving lingering at the Sutton Hoo burial and my absolute favorite olifant. But amazingly, it all took longer than you would plan, and by the time I hit Europe, I was running terribly behind. I decided to skip Roman Britain (I KNOW!) and go ahead to lust over the Sutton Hoo… only to find out they were redoing the display. I practically had to run through Medieval Europe and the reliquaries and woodprints. THE HORROR! So to sum up there, I need about 4 more days at the British Museum, please. And I can’t go after work because it’s only open until 5:30. SO NOT FAIR.

Lunch included a Pimms cup.

Lunch included a Pimms cup.

Lunch had managed to be tendered by American Express, giving me confidence that I had enough quid to buy dinner AND beer. I had walked past black gold and red pubs on my way in. I had gone rather early, so I hoped they had opened for lunch and would give me that chance for a pint and ahot dinner. I walked, just on the streets, about five miles today. And I spent five or six hours in the museum (you know how that is on the feet). One of those places with the little symbol that means “we serve good beer”. As I stepped out of the museum, every store, every restaurant, every storefront was closed, deserted and quiet. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the business and finance district of the city was quiet and still on a Sunday night.

And of course, it began to rain.

It was a bedraggled Brenda walking home – a very long two miles. The heart would rise at the sight of gold and black and fall as it was noted that the windows were dark and unwelcoming. I had to overshoot my apartment considerably, to finally find a section of the town that was awake, and a wood-paneled, wall-papered second floor where a Polish youth brought me beer and a Sunday roast (complete with parsnips, Yorkshire pudding and Croatia vs Ireland).

(Seriously, can Ireland miss any more shots?)

Anyway, it was an awesome day and my head was full of many things and my only desire is to have another day just like it.

Tomorrow I have to go to work instead of spending the entire day at the British Museum. Bah. Something to look forward to: England plays at 4 pm tomorrow. Chances my colleagues will be spending that time in the office? Slim. Politeness of me working late and turning down invitations to watch with them? Low. Hm. I hope that’s not at the same time as our all-company meeting. Choices.


For my sodales, one of the things I discovered in the Roman Britain room was a lead sheet, from Ubley (Uley), with a curse on it. It made me think of you and our adventures together.

A lead curse

A lead curse

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