Oh To Be Young Again!

 We got off in good time early this morning to pick up our Oxford sisters, drive them to Epsom - a town southeast of London. We made it there by 10, dropped off Sister Bloxham and picked up a sister from Germany. Sister Bloxham was sweet. I felt like a mother dropping her little one off at kindergarten! Sister Bloxham has only served in Oxford since coming to England, and while she has been energetic and focused, she has grown attached to everyone here. She was emotional when we left her in her new flat with a new companion in a new area.

We drove our German sister into Hyde Park Chapel, along with Sister Jones, who is staying in Oxford. At Hyde Park Chapel, we picked up Sister Heder (yes her first cousin is THE Napolean Dynamite) and brought them both back to Oxford. We were back in our flat by 3:00.

Sister Jones and Sister Heder in front of their Oxford flat.

The Elders, wanting to give a lovely welcome to the newest missionary, invited us all to Port Meadow to enjoy dinner together before the evening's work.

Both SK and I had a few misgivings. 1. We have been together celebrating several days this week, and while it is lovely, we are on the Lord's time, and it is possible to overdo the celebrating. 2. It was getting late, and we were tired. 3. We were pretty sure this couldn't be done in an hour. 4. We had other things we wanted to get done tonight.

We decided to go.

Remember, these are 18 and 19-year-olds doing the planning. 

Port Meadow is historic. I have walked there many times. This is a succinct overview:

When you visit "Oxford's oldest monument" you are looking at a landscape that has changed little since prehistoric times. 

Bronze Age people buried their dead here and during the Iron Age people lived on the meadow during the summer and grazed their livestock on the rich pasture. These burials and settlements are well preserved and clearly visible from the air or in some cases on the ground as shallow circular ditches and banks.

In return for helping to defend the kingdom against the marauding Danes, the Freemen of Oxford were given the 120ha of pasture next to the Thames by King Alfred who founded the City in the 10th Century. 

The Freemen's collective right to graze their animals free of charge was recorded in the Domesday Book in 1086 and has been exercised ever since. 

Those marauding Danes! 

Several things happened to reinforce our misgivings, and if nothing comes of it, we can all look back with laughter. we were happy there was a car park with a few spots open. Unfortunately, it cost money to park a car. Between us, we didn't have a single coin, let alone a bill. SK had his wallet, but the machine wouldn't take a credit card. We were already late, and debated whether or not to take the 20-minute round-trip ride to go home for coins.

It began to sprinkle, then a touch of actual rain.

We opted to call Elder Reynoldson, who sent the sisters out to the car park. They found us quickly, dug through their purses and fortunately found a 1 pound coin, which was good for an hour. They were laughing because Elder Reynoldson and Elder Bowen were trying to put together the grill - without any tools. They had just purchased it! - along with hamburger patties, buns, and condiments.

We walked through the parking lot, over a bridge and through a lovely gate into this beautiful meadow, where people were sitting together in small groups enjoying the beautiful weather, and cows were munching on the clover. The elders had managed to get the grill put together, and had put charcoal in it and a little kindling. 

"Is this legal? I asked.

Of course said our resident Brit, Elder Reynoldson, as he lit the grill. In no time at all it was fired up and they put the patties on to cook (the charcoal was barely getting warm). Soon there was smoke pouring out of the grill. Elder Reynoldson pulled out two bottles of non-alcoholic malt drink for SK to try. 

About then, a man came up on a bicycle and said quite politely, "Did you not see all the signs posted?" 

He gestured to every entrance to the meadow. Dumfounded, we all said, "What signs?"

"All the signs that say there are to be no barbecues here....no fires, no grilling!"

He added that it was partially to protect the animals.

I sat in the lawn chair that the elders had thoughtfully brought for us to use and gazed upon this spectacle. Here we all were, with smoke billowing out of the little grill for everyone in that large meadow to see, two of the men drinking from what looked very much like beer bottles - and wearing our badges! Visions of being hauled off to jail popped into my mind....calling Dave.

Drivers are never stopped around here for violations. They are sent tickets with their picture showing the violations and stating day and time. I wouldn't be surprised if other violations are treated the same way. Tomorrow we may get a citation in the mail for endangering the cows of Port Meadow....who knows? 

We quickly as possible doused the flames, threw the raw hamburger patties in a plastic bag, as well as the very wet charcoal, packed up everything and sheepishly slunk out of that beautiful spot, past several large signs stating NO BARBECUES! in big red letters. 

On the way home, we saw a rainbow. That has to be good omen. amongst al the bad ones. We'll see.