Feta and Keswick

Toasted wheat bread, tuna fish mixed with a little mayo and curry, cucumbers, celery, tiny bits of tomato, lettuce and of course real mozzarella cheese. 

Romaine and spinach mix, strawberries, diced gala apples, celery, pineapple, dried cranberries, red grapes, tortilla strips, poppyseed dressing and of course a lot a lot a lot of feta. 

That's what I want for lunch.

 I remember the first time I ever tried Feta. I know exactly when it was because I wrote about it in my journal. I was an excellent journal keeper during the time of my first feta encounter. It happened here.

May 4th, 2005: 

I'm sitting in a small coffee shop in Keswick, England with Erica Lamb. The coffee shop is called "The Wild Strawberry"and we stopped in for lunch. Greek salad with feta cheese and olives and an amazing melted cheese and tomato sandwich. I have a new love in feta cheese. Why haven't I ever tried that before? 

We're now sitting in a little alcove by the front window overlooking main street drinking hot chocolate milk and we just finished a conversation about a Tennyson poem. She's writing a letter to her fiance Brad. I'd like to meet Brad, I really like the sound of him. I'm looking out over the cobblestone streets in this tiny town marveling that I'm in the English lake-district countryside. It's cool outside and there is a misty rain that comes and goes. The cafe smells like cheese soup and coffee. I love what I see: Stone floors of slate blue and dark gray. Seems like the whole town is done in this slate color. Stone walls- some parts white-washed and some parts left gray. Bright red flowers on the curtains that frame big windows. Cherry wood beams near the ceiling and old cherry wood shelves lined with books of poetry and riddles. China with little painted strawberries and little antique figurines everywhere. 

We sit at a small round table on ancient looking chairs covered in worn red velvet. Four old men sit behind us. One reminds me of my 9th grade English teacher, Mr. Gill. He's one of the reasons I'm even here in England studying literature and writing. He's the one that told me I had a talent for writing all those years ago. He saw in a shy and insecure 9th grader a talent and pushed me to develop it. He was such a severe man in so many way, yet he changed my life forever. This man behind me has his same mustache and stern look. They're funny with their little funny shoes and polite soft voices-- thick English accents. They're in three piece suits and they all have hats. They walk with their hands behind their backs. 

From this big window, I can see the brick path that leads up to the small quaint shopping center we walked through to get here. It's lined with tiny used book stores, confectionaries, fudge shops, family owned bakeries.  There is an outdoor market with fruit and vegetable vendors and cheese stands. I love it here. My MOM would love it here. She'd go nuts in a place like this. I'd like to live here someday. Ann Marie and I wandered around the outskirts of town looking at cottages. We hiked 19 miles yesterday but we couldn't resist taking another walk to look at these small homes. Each is so unique and so old. None of the cookie-cutter houses you see at home. These have vibrant colors and tons of character. Houses with reddish purple roofs or patios painted vibrant greens and blues. Most are done in dark stone or gray bricks with white wood. I'd like to take a picture of every house.  

My favorite part of Keswick by far is that every house has a name. Every single one. Some favorites: 

Brooks Glen 

Emmerwen Cottage  

Castleden Garden 

Crummock Cottage 

Riverdale Haven 

Trinity Field 

Rosewood Manor 

Baydenshire 

I want to name my home. I want a stone tablet with the name of my home displayed in front of my cottage. I want bay windows and side gardens. Someday perhaps. For now, I'll enjoy the fact that I'm in England.

I loved my time in the British Isles. I want so badly to go back. Random post. I started writing about lunch and ended up reading my journal from 6 years ago for an hour. Erica married Brad and they have three girls. I went to Ann Marie's wedding last fall. If anyone could get away with naming their house, it would be Ann Marie. To end, here is a picture of downtown Keswick.