…I have to wonder about Wen.
Even before the ‘Wen’ thing she was a little too eager to run off to all the farthest flung reaches of the known universe at the drop of a hat.
The ‘hat’ in this case being any and all tangential references of any sort whatsoever to our quest; the merest hint of anything French for example and she was ‘champing at the bit’ to get over there.
Now, I am as keen to explore that particular land mass as the next fellow but if we are to do this thing properly… well, we really have to be called.
And this ‘calling’ is a tricky business.
The Scotland thing is a case in point.
It certainly looked like that was a good idea.
We had stuff to look at en route and stuff to look at when we got there and friends who could put us up and… and then the coffee pot exploded and we ended up heading off in quite the opposite direction.
You see, if it looks like you are not going to follow the calling… stuff happens.
Arbor Low is another example only this time, I think, we got it right.
The Stonehenge of the Midlands they call it but I was never very impressed with that because I knew the stones were laid flat.
Still, it being so close and all it was surprising that I had not got over there sooner and Wen, apparently, had kept passing the turn off to get there on her way home but never had the time or the inclination to go check it out.
That is the calling…
“Is it low as in a cow’s moan or is it low as in ‘cow’?”
“I’ve heard it pronounced both ways.”
“I’ve heard it pronounced both ways too.”
We both said it simultaneously though…
“We have to go to Arbor Low.”…