Epicmania

After two attempts to post a blog entry, one foiled by a wonky wireless connection the other foiled by own uploading/erasing stupidity, I have learned my lesson and I've gone back to my QM2 method of blogging. In other words, I'm writing this while on the balcony of our Dublin hotel room. Soon we're going to go have lunch with the poet friend of my father's. In my second attempt at blogging I had uploaded a lot of photographs and then made very brief comments on each, now however, I am writing without exact purpose. I am chronological by nature and would like to write about the different experiences I've had and places I've been in the order in which they happened. Though at this point I feel as if I should just jump back in to where I am and write about the Thai dinner we had last night and the rather less than appealing breakfast I had this morning. So much food to upload and place in a time continuum, oh my.

On the day we left my last internet/wireless haven we stopped in a town and had lunch. I had a Budweiser (prounounced bud-viser) and a Salad Nicoise, I thought it was pretty good. We then went to the once a year open garden of the town manse and looked at lots of pretty flowers and grounds. Below is my last breakfast before changing camp...aren't those just the cutest little egg cozies you've ever seen? Yes, yes they are.


Rich British people live below.
Rich British people pay someone else to make pretty flowers grow. They smelled good too.

Then we arrived at Lodge Down Bed & Breakfast which is where my parents have stayed while attending Royal Ascot for the last twelve-ish years. I have visited twice before, first when I was 11ish and then again when I was 18ish. The proprietors of Lodge Down have become my parents' friends and were kind enough to make us dinner not one but two nights which, as you may know, is not part of the B&B business…if it was it would be the D&B&B, which it is not. We arrived two days earlier than the races began and did not meet up with our former Maryland neighbors/current family friends until the next day. Now this is just useless chronology of nothing events. I've relaxed my rather strict no faces policy with the Uma photograph and that will continue for a bit...I mean I did wear hats. Below are my parents staring at the Lodge Down view as the sun goes round the corner.
The dinner we were lucky to receive...chicken with creamy sauce, ham and veggies.
Pretty sky. I've never been big on showing people photographs of the sky, they're pretty but if you've seen one pretty amateur photograph of the sky you've seen them all. Nonetheless, look, pretty.
This was the view out my window. I was lucky enough to get my own room for this portion of the trip (thanks, Dad!).
An English snail doing it's thing.
I took a walk through the Lodge Down land on the next day. As I think I mentioned it's horse country so they have a cross country jumping course scattered around. This made me think of the days when I ran around on horses doing such courses and jumping jumps, well, kind of like this. (above, the snail and jump space is wonky)
The second lovely dinner. This was cooked by our host and hostess' daughter, roasted chicken and goodness.
Breakfast, the first day of Ascot.



Royal Ascot was an experience and a half. Though, if you're to believe my parents, my neighbors and a good helping of Brits, it wasn't half the experience it could have been had they not spent three hundred million pounds renovating (re: fucking up) the entire grounds/course/grandstand...the old paddock versus the new paddock…the old seats the new seats etc. My parents have always shelled out the relatively big bucks to be in the "Royal Enclosure", a realm where one, if a woman, must wear a hat and a non-strapless dress and one, if a man, must wear a morning suit and top hat. The Royal Enclosure, with these new improvements, seems to be a little less enclosed…I'm pretty sure my mother said something along the lines of 'well, they're just letting anyone in now". Each day of Royal Ascot followed a similar beginning schedule, breakfast by 8, leave by 10, arrive by 11:30, drink champagne in the car park until it's gone, repeat.


First dinner at some place or the other. Cod I believe. Also a mushroom soup but I couldn't get a good photograph of it, not bad, not bad at all.
This would be my second Ascot day breakfast.
This would be me in my second Ascot day outfit, looking stoned but not being stoned...champagne stoned maybe, though actually not.

The first day we didn't get off very smartly and so traffic was a bit much. The first day left me feeling rather grumpy. A twenty minute wait for Pimms Cups with my mother left me with tears in my eyes (from rage, not sadness, at the very rude British man who declared he was next in line when VERY CLEARLY he was not). An equally full of herself woman telling me that she, in fact, was behind the man that I was behind. Grrrr. My mother and our two former neighbors felt equally grumpy though my father had found a suitable routine of betting and a good view of the finish line, so he was happy. And the husband of the neighbor pair was grumpy, in part, about not winning any money. I won no money that first day and that may have also effected my sentiments…no it was the rude people and the lack of place to sit comfortably.

The second day was far better than the first, this was due to the lady former neighbor and I spending most of the day in our B&B host and hostess' club a lovely enclosed area with lots of sofas and tables and chairs (finding a place to sit in the Royal Enclosure is not to be envied). There we were served champagne, champagne and more champagne with a liberal helping of cute amuse-bouches…and then tea and cookies (this is where neighbor lady switched with my mother as our host/ess only had two guest badges)…and then more champagne. I also won money that day and saw the Queen, the not king and the other not king (also known, respectively, as Prince Phillip and Prince Charles).

My goodness, I have to go get ready to go somewhere else entirely and I'm not nearly done uploading photographs. Pardon me if I, er, stop here and upload the Queenie and the tasties later!