Konold Chronicles

I’m afraid our short summer may be over.  Temperatures are in the high 50’s and low 60’s–even into the 40’s at night.  Hopefully, the cold will bring with it some major colors in the trees.  I really don’t know what to expect.  Since last writing, we visited the ruins of another abbey.  Abbeys were built by monastic monks.  Although they had taken vows of poverty and total dedication (some not even speaking for the rest of their lives), the monasteries were among the wealthiest institutions in the country (including kings). This is why King Henry VIII raided the monasteries and killed many of the monks when he turned the Catholic churches into the Church of England.   Land was often granted to them and they built these magnificent structures using labor of the nearby villagers.  The people of the time clung to the church as their only hope to enter heaven and were motivated by the fear that if they did not do all they could to help God’s servants, they would burn eternally.  So most gave at least 2 days a week helping to build.  They also tithed 10% of their total possessions per year.  Many of the monasteries included grain mills which would charge a fee for use.  The abbot would make and enforce a law against building any other mill–so they had a monopoly on food.  They also made money off of farming and raising stock (mostly sheep).  I must admit this understanding colored my views a bit.  I had envisioned these poor dedicated monks using nothing but their hands and backs to build these huge structures; but they were using someone else’s hands and backs–sort of like government today.  Anyway, here is Bolton Abbey built in the 14th century.

More Bolton Abbey

Graveyard at Bolton Abbey

Last Bolton Abbey

Last Monday, we decided to attack Manchester.  Up until now, Manchester was somewhere you only went when absolutely necessary–and when unable to talk someone else into doing it for you.  Think LA.  Always a lot of traffic and extremely confusing roadways.  It was a bank holiday–which means everything is shut down so we thought we could take a chance.  Plus, it was raining.  So, we went to the Rylands Library and the Manchester Art Gallery.  The Art Gallery was unremarkable; but the library was quite impressive.  It was built by Enriqueta Rylands, the third wife of Manchester’s most successful cotton manufacturer.  She was Britain’s wealthiest woman.  Pictures are probably the only way to capture the experience.

Entry

Ceilings are all like this

How’s this for a study carrel?

Main hall

Yesterday, we tried another new venue, Blackpool–on the coast just north of Liverpool.  Blackpool is a combination of Coney Island and Las Vegas.  If you ever doubt that missionaries have a lot to do, go to Blackpool.  Casinos, tattoo parlors, amusement parks, and crowds of drunk people all smoking.  We did enjoy our walk onto one of the piers where we ran into a large gazebo-like structure called the sunset lounge.  People just go there and chill and watch the sunset while listening to a guy playing an organ and signing Neil Diamond–actually very well.  We sat for a few minutes, took a couple of pills and strolled back to the promenade. That was meant to be funny–not depressing.  We had a great time.  Again, a few pictures.

Blackpool Tower.  See the large ferris wheel on the horizon.

Promenade lights

Sunset Lounge.  That’s the Atlantic Ocean in the background

Indiana Kathy trying out the Blackpool style

Today, we had to go into Manchester to pick up a new senior couple who will be serving in the Temple.  So, we had to attend the Chorley 3 Ward.  It is always impressive that no matter where you are on Fast Sunday, you will hear strong and moving testimonies–even if you don’t know the people.  The bishop (our driving instructor) told of a time when he and his wife were so broke they could not both pay tithing and buy any food for the week.  You know the story from here; they paid their tithing and had 6 dinner invitations before they left Church (without telling anyone of their condition).  The world over, the same experiences are told in an almost matter-of-fact fashion every month.  Our lives really are blessed when we sacrifice to build the Kingdom.

At work, I finished my project of analyzing the Church’s ability to provide welfare assistance to undocumented immigrants in all the European countries.  There are several where we simply cannot help without violating the law.  I believe the Area Presidency will release the instructions to priesthood leaders at the mission presidents conference this coming week.  Immigration is such a dominant issue in Europe.  As we were waiting for the folks at the airport this morning, we watched hundreds coming out of the international terminal.  Middle Easterners out numbered others by at least 2-1.  They all had what appeared to be all their worldly possessions; but, by their attire and jewelry, it was clear there are also some unseen bank accounts.  My point is that the immigrants we see arriving here by air are not the poor and destitute capturing headlines around the world.  But the changing demographics are worrisome because it is happening so fast that there hardly seems time for assimilation.  Instead the immigrants live and group together for support.  It seems to me that is always a dangerous condition–clusters of cultural diversity.

Enough for now.

Cheers

I’m slipping…it’s been a whole month. Let’s start at the end…general conference.  I think when you are on a mission, general conference takes on new significance. We were able to watch all sessions live on BYUtv.  We could also get it on lds.org, but is was not streaming very smoothly.  If I had to pick a favorite, it might go to Elder Greg Schwitzer.  I don’t think it is because he is Harvey Schwitzer’s son; but his message of boldly declaring our conviction of Christ was very moving to me.  Sunday evening the sisters from across the hall came over.  The new sister has only been serving here for a couple of weeks.  I inquired about her family and learned that she is a rather recent convert–the only member in her family.  She is from Massachusetts.  As I listened to her conversion story, I learned that she had the missionary lessons while in her first year at Columbia University (and I loved that I had to drag that part out of her).  I asked her if, after hearing the first vision story, she ran to the Internet to find “the rest of the story.”  She did; but she explained that she was able to differentiate truth from fiction by how it made her feel.  When she heard the missionary lessons she felt happiness and when she read from detractors, she felt darkness and unhappiness.  I asked how she developed the ability to be that discerning and she said a friend helped her by encouraging her to be aware of her feelings as she investigated the gospel.  I was very touched by this obviously intelligent young woman who did not avoid intellectual inquiry, but was able to be in touch with, and trusting of, her spirit.  And impressed by her friend who gave such valuable advice.

A couple of weeks ago, we attended the baptism of a couple from Hungary who we helped fellowship (a little bit).  What a difference it makes in our ability to assimilate new members when they come as families.  It has been enjoyable to watch their integration into the ward and the joy that they are feeling.  Edina (the wife) bore her testimony that all her life she has been searching for something “and now I have found it.”  At the other end of the spectrum we took another sister to church a couple of weeks ago and, right after the sacrament, she tipped over, laid down on the seat, and slept through the rest of the meeting. Kathy’s attempts to bring her back to consciousness were unavailing.  I thought I should take her to High Priest’s Quorum with me, where she would not feel lonely.

So, let’s get to the travels.

Dennis and Clareen Hays (friends from way back in law school) visited us.  We went again through the Cotswolds (very popular place for visitors) and the Lakes.  We stayed at a B&B where our room had giant beams about 5 feet off the floor so we had to hang towels over them to keep us alert.  I only forgot once (enough).

Our room in Bath. Mind your head!

We visited Avebury (not far from Stonehenge) where there some pretty remarkable rock circles.  It is amazing that with our abilities to interpret the past, there is really not a consistent explanation for the rock circles; but there are a lot of them all over England.

Circle of rocks in Avebury

Stonehenge

Here in Chorley, there is a manor house that has been closed ever since we got here.  It is now open on weekends.  This room is really quite magnificent.  That is all wood relief on the ceiling and it is about three feet deep.  Hard to believe that much weight has been suspended for over 400 years.  It is believed that Oliver Cromwell spent a night or two here.

The subtle ceiling of a manor house here in Chorley.

On the Saturday of general conference (the first session is at 5:00 pm here) we drove to the Peak District to see the Blue John Caverns.  We descended 300 feet (via 245 stairs).  They used to mine lead from the cavern, but now they mine blue john which is a fairly low grade gem stone (diamond is 10, blue john is 4); but it really looks quite nice in jewelry.  The area around Castleton attracts “ramblers” by the hundreds.  The hillsides and canyon rims are covered with these avid hikers.  They have many rambler clubs you can join depending on your location, age, experience, and adventurous spirit.  Of course, you need the proper gear–which is the best part of the experience.  Blokes join just to justify purchase of the gear–then stay home and watch rugby.

Another of the cavern

Blue John Cavern in Castleton (the “Peaks District). The formation is called “Miners’ snot”

Starting to see Fall

On conference Sunday, we drove into Preston (we don’t do that much) and strolled through Avenham park by the River Ribble.  Some beautiful colors are beginning to emerge.

Tree that was planted by the Church in a Japanese garden at River Ribble where the first European baptisms were performed

The trees by our apartment are not the kind that show a lot of brilliance; but they do let you know what time of year it is and warn you of what’s coming.

View out our front window

Kathy watching General Conference in our living room.  Yes, that is a heater behind her and another is at her feet.  You can take a girl out of San Diego, but….

Our jobs are going great and we do enjoy our visitors and excursions.  Our bishop and his wife will arrive tomorrow for a couple of days, then it looks like we will hop over to Amsterdam on business (wish it was spring for that trip).

Just a quick entry before I forget.  A couple of significant things happened this week.  On Thurs/Fri the internet lit-up about the change in policy contained in the new Handbook 1 relating to same-sex marriages.  I don’t recall something creating quite the firestorm this did.  I must admit, I was surprised and, frankly upset.  Surprised because I cannot remember the Church mishandling a public relations event in recent times.  It seems the Church leaders should have expected the reaction and gotten out in front of it rather than leave it to the media to make the first impressions.  I still don’t understand that part.  I was upset because, at first glance, the part of the policy relating to children of same-sex couples seemed to go further than necessary.  I couldn’t get the matter off my mind and found myself between thinking and praying for most of the night.  My prayers were not so much for me, but for the many whose faith would be shaken.  I resolved I would not express my views to my family until I heard the Church’s response–which I was sure would be forthcoming.

On Saturday morning, Elder Christofferson was interviewed.  I don’t think I heard any answers I had not considered.  I think many of my questions were still not resolved; but I felt a peace in my heart.  I felt the issues had been thoughtfully and lovingly considered and that the policy reflected what these caring men concluded to be the will of God.  I will finish the letter I started to my family, but with a more comforting tone.

This week was Guy Fawkes day (though it is celebrated throughout the week–because there is fire involved).  Guy Fawkes is the guy that led the conspiracy to blow up Parliament and King James I in order to restore a Catholic to the throne.  The plot failed and Fawkes was hung, drawn, and quartered.  The celebration is ironically, not to honor the man after whom it is named, but to honor the throne and is repeated annually to demonstrate that foes of the throne will be defeated.  The are huge bonfires and fireworks everywhere.  Fireworks are legal here, so everyone kinda does their own; but there are some larger official shows.  Really, it has just become a reason to party and all seem to have a good time.

Today (November 8) is Remembrance Day in the UK.  It is equivalent to our Veterans Day–but much bigger.  Everyone wears a red poppy on their lapel, shirt, or dress.  In 1915, Lt Col John McCrae, who had lost a close friend in the War was inspired by the sight of poppies growing in battle fields, to write a now famous poem called ‘In Flanders Fields’. After the First World War, the poppy was adopted as a symbol of Remembrance.  At Church today, we had two-minutes of silence as we stood and quietly remembered those who have given the ultimate.  And, odd for me, the closing hymn was “God Save the Queen.”  All in all, I found the events very moving and perhaps more effective than our US efforts.

Yesterday, we visited Old Rufford Hall, another of the grand manor houses–this one built in the 16th century.  A few pictures.

Old Rufford Hall

The ceiling in the great hall

Suiting up

The canal runs along the property

The Courtyard

The grounds

That’s the up to the minute.  Peace to all.

On November 17th we went into Manchester for the German Christmas Market.  They set up literally blocks of booths, portable restaurants, ice skating rinks, etc.

German Christmas Market – Temporary Restaurant

That evening, we went into Southport to an old fashioned choir presentation called No Wars  Can Stop the Singing.  Some members of our Ward are in the choir.  It was held in the Temperance Institute–which is quite a historic building in the area.  A truly old fashioned feel. The choir was okay, but their enthusiasm (for a group of mostly over 65 year-olds) was quite remarkable.

Choir at Temperance Institute

September 24th was our Ward’s indexing extravaganza.  We went over the the Church in the evening and did indexing for a couple of hours.  It as a learning experience for both of us.  I’m not sure I would be able to do that for extended periods–but there are those who really enjoy it–so why deny them the experience?

First Thanksgiving away.  Major time of missing family–especially my mom and dad. Thanksgiving, even more than Christmas connects me to memories of being with my folks. Mom’s lime-meringue pie and orange rolls and grandma’s gravy are just part of the holiday.  I think the number of years we had our Thanksgiving dinner at the church with expanded family created some deep memories.  I don’t think mom loved anything more than having so many of her family together. And dad would count descendants to his heart’s content.

They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in England but they are intrigued by it and want to respect our observance.  The temple had a Thanksgiving lunch for the American temple missionaries. They had the turkey and sweet potatoes, but the rest was pretty standard faire.  It was actually very thoughtful and appreciated.  Thursday night, we went over to the Backmans.  They had two couples visiting from the US.  His in-laws, Jim and Irene Smart and Lynn’s niece, Tamie and her husband, Rick.  The food was very good (and totally American) and the company was nice.

The serving table

Jim asked each of us to recount some connection with England (in most cases the story of a relative who immigrated to America).  That turned out very inspirational. I shared the story of James Holley who joined the Church down in Herefordshire and traveled in wagon to SLC–passing the Willie/Martin handcart company just days before its demise.  We were eclipsed, of course, by two direct descendants of Heber C. Kimball himself.

Today, we drove with the Backmans to Ulverston for the annual Dickensian Festival.  There were parades, booths, fireworks, and lighting of the tree and street decorations.  The weather played into the occasion.–cold, rain, and wind.

Participants dressed in Dickensian costumes

Laurel was born in Ulverston

We put up our Christmas tree today.  What’s the vote on spray-snowing the windows?

It’s not much…but

Enjoy the season!

Kathy’s birthday today.  I think she had a great day.  The custom here is that on your birthday, YOU bring the cake and goodies into the office.  So Kathy was up until midnight baking cakes and cookies to take to the temple.  I understand its the most sinning done in the temple since its dedication.  We went to dinner with the Backman’s tonight to a very good Italian restaurant right here in Chorley.  All the kids called tonight.

A couple of weeks ago, it became necessary for me to go to Paris for a meeting at the temple site (under construction).  I quickly made travel reservations, packed and went to check in and get our boarding passes when I realized I had sent my passport to the DMV which is part of the process of getting a driver’s license.  So, we unpacked and swallowed our pre-paid travel expenses.  Maybe next time.

Last weekend, we went to a seemingly endless string of choir performances–looking for the cathedral choir experience.  We never found it, and concluded our stake music program was the best around.  But it seems every community has a choir.  Mostly older women.  In one, the two women in the front were actually basses.

Our journeys last weekend took us to Halifax and up above York to the Castle Howard–a beautiful property which is still occupied by the Howard family.  It was, of course all decorated for the season.

Main Hall in Castle Howard

Library in Castle Howard

From the Castle, we drove in pouring rain back to that place you are all getting tired of: Fountains Abby.  Each time I go there, I see these big up-lights, but they are never on.  But, for two weekends, they are–and this was one of them.  Pretty incredible.

The drive home was harrowing.  It had been raining all day and the roads were flooded.  We could usually see the low spots coming–but not always.  At least three times, the water came over the headlights and onto the windshield, completely blinding the driver.  We were very relieved to get home.

The weather has been extremely wet, but relatively warm.  We have seldom been below 40 degrees and usually in the mid to high 50’s during the day.  I have taken to walking as soon as I get home from the office.  I normally go about 3 miles–rain or shine.  Kathy joins if it is not raining or windy, so….never.

Life is good.  We are having a great time.  We feel especially close to the Savior as we are able to serve Him so intensely.   We continue to find people warm and friendly–especially at this time of the year.  Kathy has started making cinnamon rolls, so we are making a lot of new friends.

Our love to all.

Christmas in the mission field is memorable.  Emotions are intensified by missing family; experience is enriched by local customs and new friends; and service magnifies the relationship with He whom we remember.  It was a relatively quiet and simple Christmas.  Our home was modestly decorated.

Our House Decorated for Christmas

The cards, letters and gifts received were thoughtfully selected and gratefully received.  We had Christmas dinner with the Backmans and their son and his family from Ethiopia.  It was nice to be around children.  It made us realize how important they are to the Christmas story.

New Year’s Eve is also Jim Backman’s birthday.  He wanted to go to Scotland for the traditional Hogamany celebration (Scottish for gallons of whisky) .  As the date approached, it was clear there would be flooding, cold and wind and we wisely decided to find another option.  As it turned out, Scotland would have been an absolute disaster.  Instead, we decided to go to the east coast and visit the cities of Whitby and Durham.  We stayed in a nice B&B in Hurdlepool (near Whitby) where we enjoyed some beautiful sunsets and sunrises.

Sunset From Our Room in Hurdlepool

Whitby is a small fishing village punctuated by a Benedictine abbey the earliest portions of which were built in 657 AD.  It was destroyed by Henry VIII in 1540.  It is perhaps most famous by the fact that it inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula.  It is one of those places where you can spend hours imaging what events occurred there and what life was like “in the day.”

Kathy in Front of Monastery in Whitby

Near the abbey is an old church where, during the Christmas season, they invite citizens and businesses in Whitby to decorate a Christmas tree above the pew boxes.  One could spend hours reading the messages that were part of each exhibit.  The tree below is made of law books and was created by a local law firm.

Old Church in Whitby with Christmas Trees Decorated by Citizens and Businesses

Whitby is also known for having the best fish and chips in England.  Each year, one of the restaurants is awarded the “Best F&C” in England and the 2015 winner was Quayside in Whitby. We had our New Year’s Eve dinner there.  We did not know that as we walked out, they would close the door behind us for 2 months of renovations.

Us Just Before Having Fish and Chips on New Years Eve in Whitby

One of the things on my bucket list has been to climb Pendle Hill.

Pendle Hill

Several historical events occurred on this hill in the 17th century: the Pendle witch trials (1612); Richard Towneley’s barometer experiment; and the vision of George Fox (1652) which led to the foundation of the Quaker movement.  Pendle hill is just above the towns of Chatburn and Downham where Heber C. Kimball baptized most of the residents in his first mission in 1837. Well, my climb was attempted on January 2nd–a very cold and rainy day.  The trail was washed out which required that you hike through tall grasses.  We probably got 2/3rd of the way to the top when prudence suggested we call it quits.  I will attack it again.

Me Making an Attempt to Climb Pendle Hill in Horrible Weather–Attempt Failed

Work continues to bring daily surprises.  Today, I was drafting opposition for legislation being proposed in England in an effort to stem the spread of radicalism in education of children.  The thrust of the law is that all programs educating children outside the public school system will be registered, inspected and monitored by a governmental agency.  It will, at least, affect our seminaries and institutes.  While, of course, we don’t think they will find radicalism in our programs, who is to say what is radical.  Something as simple as “follow the prophet” could be seen as seditious to the throne.  The explosion of immigration in Europe will inevitably lead to laws and regulations which will erode religious freedoms and threaten all religions.

Kathy has been enjoying the two week break while the temple is going through its annual maintenance.  She is spending most of her time studying for her driving tests.  I may have mentioned earlier that a driver’s license is very difficult to obtain in England.  You must score a minimum of 88% on a 50-question written test; pass a hazard perception test; and pass an actual road test through the narrow streets and round-abouts for which England is famous. The law requires that you must have a UK license by the end of 12 months from the time you entered the country.  I just passed my written and hazard perception tests and have my driving test scheduled for the 26th–3 days before my 12 month anniversary.  Major pressure!  I don’t remember this being disclosed in the senior missionary booklet.

As I am writing this, Kathy is on the train on her way home from Watford (near London)–location of the Harry Potter Studio attraction.  I have to pick her up at midnight at the train station.  I know the rest of the night will be listening to her complete thrill and satisfaction with the experience.  It is said to be the best theme attraction anywhere–so I must prepare myself.

As soon as I sign off, I know I will remember some things I intended to include.  If so, I will just have to post again soon.  Good night for now.

Today marks the one-year anniversary of our arrival in England.  As is usually the case, in some ways it seems we have been here much longer and in others, like we just arrived.  My theory is that the things you think about often result in it seeming like a longer time and those we rarely think about make it seem much shorter.  In any event, we have enjoyed our time here beyond our expectations and are already feeling a little sad at the thought of leaving.

As I am typing, we are waiting for Richard and Suzie (Kathy’s sister) to arrive.  They just finished their mission in Johannesburg and are stopping by on their way home.  They will be here for a few days and then driving to Scotland (where Richard served his mission) for a week or two, then back here for a few more days.  They are driving up from London and were expecting to arrive here in the a.m.  As we speak, they have pulled off the road about 2.5 hours away (with no traffic) because they have sat for hours in traffic that has not moved.  I predict they will not be here for about 5 hours (about midnight).  Friday night is not the time to be heading north on the M6 or the M61.

While the winter has been very wet, it has been relatively mild.  I think I have only had to chip ice off the wind-screen three times all winter.  The flooding up north of here has been horrific. Our office is full of chairs on their way to Kendal–where the church was gutted by waters when the river over-flowed.

Two weeks ago, we drove over to Lincoln (about 2 hours southeast of where we live).  It is known for its important part in the English Civil War and for its cathedral.  We found it to be a really interesting and pretty village.

In the background, the High Bridge Cafe–where we had lunch

Getting from the town center to the castle and cathedral requires that you walk up a very steep road (so named).  Fortunately, there a lot of shops going up so you can rest without lying down in the street.

The gate going up the “steep street” to the castle and cathedral

The castle houses one of the 4 original Magna Cartas.  We had seen it in Oxford so we did not pay to see it again and it was out on loan anyway.  Had I gone to see it, there would have been some major disappointment.

The Lincoln Cathedral taken from the wall of the castle

Inside the Lincoln Cathedral

They had a wedding the day before, so all the chairs had been removed from the nave–making it look even bigger.  Very little of this cathedral has been rebuilt or replaced.  Construction started in 1185 and it opened in 1311.  John Ruskin (a preeminent Victorian writer said of it “I have always held… that the cathedral of Lincoln is out and out the most precious piece of architecture in the British Isles and roughly speaking worth any two other cathedrals we have.”

Inside the Lincoln Cathedral

Last Saturday, we took a drive through the Forrest of Bowland (about 1 hour north).  Tiny roads and villages and a lot of moorland–which is quite beautiful this time of the year.

Forrest of Bowland

Forrest of Bowland

We took a very small side road (like 9 feet wide) towards a farmhouse and came upon a strange site.  I have mentioned before the mole problem in England.  Well, this is the time of the year they are in their prime and farmers hire professional mole trappers (where do I apply?) who are paid by the mole.  To prove how many they killed, this is what they do:

Moles Hung for the Count

There were hundreds of these displayed.  I realize this may be offensive to some; but it is business–or, if you prefer, it is evidence establishing animal cruelty.  In either event, the crows love it.

We ended with a quick run through Clitheroe–an old village–with what is left of a medieval castle.  Heber C. Kimball had quite a few converts here and in the nearby villages of Chatburn and Downham.

Castle of Clitheroe

No sooner finished the weekend when I took AND PASSED my driving test–so I am now a full-fledged British-licensed driver.  Sort of like passing the California bar exam, but harder.

Last week, we attended a baptismal service up in Blackburn.  A Romanian fellow was baptized a few months ago and his wife, who just arrived from Romania a month ago was baptized tonight.  It was a very nice service and we met some good folks.  Elder Backman and Sister Backman have been teaching Chiprion and Anka in the Gospel Essentials class and have been major fellow-shippers.  Blackburn has a very large Muslim population.  Four mosques are visible from the front door of our church.

Well, that’s it for now.

The last couple of weeks have been spent largely with Kathy studying for her theory driving test. She took it yesterday and missed only one out of 50 questions (meaning she had the second highest score in all of England–right)?  She also scored very high on the hazard perception part (much better than I).  Now all she has to do is pass the behind-the-wheel test and she will be a right-proper British driver!

Richard and Suzie have been visiting.  They arrived and stayed for a couple of days and then took off to Scotland–where Richard served his mission 50 years ago.  Amazingly, they were able to hook up with some of the people he knew then.  When they returned, they met a couple at the temple both of whom (or their families) Richard was instrumental in bringing into the Church.  We went out to dinner with them and had an enjoyable evening.  Richard and Suzie left again the next morning and will be back tomorrow for a couple more days.

Visiting Dunham (early Church history site)

Kathy and Suzie

We are starting to lose some of our friends whose missions are coming to an end.  Mom has worked closely with the Robbins (from Sandy, Utah) and the Dicks (from Edmonton).  We had them over for dinner.  They are just very good people.

The Robbins and Dicks

We had a couple of days of sun this week, so we got out at lunch for a walk.  It is just a couple of blocks from our house to be in the Yarrow Valley–with streams and fields.  Still need boots because there is a lot of mud–but it is all worth it.

On a walk in Yarrow Valley (near our home)

Due to a lot of traffic at the temple, Kathy has volunteered to work on a couple of her days off. She does enjoy things much more when she is very busy.  Strangely, Tim’s work often seems to focus on one country at a time.  The last couple of weeks have involved matters in France. Temple projects always seem to be very involved with challenges.  They involve such unique land use and design and the construction is very specialized.  Often, they are located on a hill–which requires specialized surface and ground water design.  The whole process is managed by the Temple Department–which operates quite differently than the regular project management group for other construction projects.

Squatters are a continuing challenge, particularly in the winter months–where eviction is a very unpopular act and often draws media attention.  The Church has been extremely humane–but still it is still difficult to keep all under control.

We have had some very cold mornings here.  Tomorrow, I expect to once again have to slide down the hill in the car.  Our cul-de-sac turns onto a side street which is a bit of a steep slope down the main road.  If you get into a slide (which is very hard not to do), you have to be ready to run up against the curb for traction.  The alternative is to slide right onto the main street which is not recommended.

Being Valentine’s Day, the kids are calling, so I am going to sign off for now.

Friday night we took off with do a little family history exploration.  I knew that my family on my father’s maternal side (the Holleys) came from Orcop (pronouned “Orcup”), England and lived on a property called the Cherry Orchard Farm.  I also knew that in 2007, there was a Holley reunion in Orcop and that a local by the name of Sue Rice seemed to know all the family history (though not a Holley descendant herself).  I have been trying for months to make contact with her to no avail.  So, I thought if I could just go there and ask around, I could find her.  No dice.  I did make contact with a very nice woman by the name of Joanna who happens to own a B&B and pub in Garway (right next door to Orcop).  We stayed at her place Friday night and were treated very nicely.  She was not able to find Sue Rice, but she did have a couple of books on local history which she loaned me.  I read them that night.  One of them, Garway Hill Through the Ages, has about 15 pages on the Mormon experience in the area–including the conversion of the Holley family and their immigration to America.  I was so grateful for her lending me the book that she got up early Saturday morning and went into town and bought one for me.

Joanna’s Inn where we stayed

A “full English breakfast” at Joanna’s inn (including back pudding on the far right) which we ate for the first (and probably last) time.

This is the village where the Holleys lived

Tim in front of what we believe was the Cherry Orchard Farm in Orcop

After taking a picture of a beautiful landscape, I turned to get in the car and saw this sign, Spelled different, but…hey. No one was home.

Kathy, in front of the pond at Benbow Farm where Willford Woodruff and his colleagues baptized hundreds–including Kathy’s GG Grandfather, Thomas Henry Clark

One of those baptized by WW was Thomas Henry Clark, the second in command in the United Brethren. This list hangs in the Gadfield Elm chapel (which has been reconstructed by the Church) showing the Sundays when T. Clark would preach (See far right column, third name down).

The Hereford Cathedral at night

Mappa Mundi. A map of the world and heaven drawn in 1300.  This is the only original.

The chained library in the Hereford Cathedral. These are all ancient books (mostly religious) kept by he monks for over 1,500 years. They are all chained to a rod across the front of these cases

Sunday we attended church at the Hereford Ward.  Very friendly people.  I asked one of the men in the bishopric whether there were any Holleys in the ward.  He said he knew only one, a young woman named Holley Jackson….Uhhhh.

For me, there is something meaningful about standing where your forbearers stood and seeing the world as they experienced it and to ponder what happened and how they felt about their lives.  Their challenges are so different than ours.  About all they have in common is that they sometimes test us to the limit–whatever that limit may be.  Generally, I think their limits were less vulnerable than ours.

A word about the American elections.  The British cannot believe what is going on in the States. Donald Trump scares them to death and they wonder when America will wake up and stop playing this game.  We are, in a word, embarrassed. There is only one thing that may force me to vote for either of the Democratic candidates this election–and that is Trump.  For now, all I can do is offer my apologies to the Brits.

That’s it for now.  I drove about 10 hours this weekend IN BRITISH TRAFFIC–so I deserve a rest.

Ciao