Places I'm From

I waited 50 years to go back to England and when I say back, I mean for the first time. What anyone who knows me understands, however, is that I was always from England. How can you explain the absolute evidence of my junior high insistence on spelling everything the British way. "Pamela, color is not spelled with a 'u'." "It is in England."

I was only 10 years old in 1964 when the Beatles arrived, but Elvis could never have made me feel the way that Paul McCartney did. The Man from U.N.C.L.E. was my favourite show. When the Monkees came along, Davy was the only one I liked.

My ancestry (both my parents lines trace from Scotland and England) was also reflected in my choice of literature. In junior high, I read Tolkien, Bronte, and Austen. I also loved Milne, Dahl and James Herriott. I loved Screwtape Letters before I knew about Chronicles of Narnia and I memorized Woodsworth's poem about daffodils. Embarrassingly enough, I didn't know they were all British back then, so it's not as if I was deliberately doing the wanna be Brit thing. After college, I started reading Agatha Cristie and someone told me to read Dorothy Sayers, Margery Allingham and Ngaio Marsh. I still would rather read a British cozy than almost anything else. (Unless it's J.K. Rowling, Eva Ibbotsen, or a handful of other Brits writing for children and young adults.) Even my TV viewing is proof. I don't fight it anymore. I love Jeeves and Wooster, MI V, Dr. Who, and almost anything else BBC sends PBS.

So naturally, when my nephew Dave chose a beautiful girl from England to marry, I was thrilled to get an invitation and even more thrilled when my son and I figured out a way to attend. Two years later, I fulfilled part two of my dream and went back, alone this time and for 3 weeks, adding a week in Scotland, where the Hunter side of my ancestry is recorded.

I decided then, two years ago now, that if I could spend July in Great Britain for the rest of my life, I would ask for no other travel luxury. This July would have fit in with the every other year, but I'm thinking Christmas time might be nice as well. And even if I have to delay the trip for another year or two, I know that I will go back. It may not be in my blood (that sounds creepy), but it's definitely in my heart.