Back to Britain, ladies and gents.

If you could take three months off from your current life and do anything in the world, what would you do?

If you read my previous post, you'd understand how I have a little bit of a love affair with England, mostly because that's where my kin is from. (Does anyone else think of O Brother Where Art Thou when you hear the word kin?) Alas, I've never been over there for more than a few weeks at a time. (I know, I know, my legitimacy as a half-Brit has gone down substantially.)

That is where I would go for three months. I don't know if I'd bum around at my grandparents' house (they're in their 70s, and I can pretty much fend for myself) or if I'd try and rent out a place, but I would go out to the green countryside where there is actual oxygen in the air (thank you high altitude of Utah). I'd probably eat lots of fish 'n chips with salt 'n vinega please (because if you don't have salt 'n vinega you shouldn't even be in England). I'd probably eat lots of doughnuts and traditional English breakfasts and beans on toast (don't knock it...it's a thing). I'd also visit all the places I've never visited in the number of times I've been there. Like the Beatles museum. (I know, considering I am the fifth member of their band, this is kind of a shame.)

Beautiful, isn't it.

You should see the view from my grandparents' garden.

Heck, you should see my grandparents' garden. Bless those red coats and their green thumbs.

Also, I only include this picture because it describes what a lot of my pictures look like from my last trip there. As I have been going through pictures for this blog the past couple of days, I keep running across pictures like this, where there is a random guy in the picture. Why? Because I was a creepy 17-year-old girl who decided to take pictures of all of the "cute boys" I saw. (Also take note of the massive amount of sweets on the conveyor belt....viva la Cadbury.) Let the record show, though, that in my three month sabbatical I would bring my husband, and would definitely not take creepy pictures of European men.

I believe I was inspired by Whitney's pictures from Italy, where there were lots of Italian men. And a video of her creeping on some old lady's mink fur coat.