Immaturity at its finest

Saturday was an adventure in Windsor.  We were horded onto a bus at 9:30 a.m. (so early…) and Cynthia got on the microphone to enlighten us with obscure historical goodness before we got there, then let us run free for six hours.  It was really interesting, and the castle was huge, which I guess is the point.  I don’t want to live in a castle anymore, especially if they have rooms full of weapons – but more than anything I don’t see the point of having a “green drawing room” directly next to a “red drawing room.”  That’s a bit too much for me; I’m just not that classy.  I would rather have a house full of comfortable furniture, cats, and a self destruct button.  That’s all I need.  The castle grounds were more impressive, except we may or may not have wandered onto a piece of verboten lawn and been scolded by a castle guard.

Wandering the town was the fun part for me.  Walking by Eton, we overheard a woman say “this is where handsome young rich men have to study.”  I guess the rest of them go to this school just down the road:

Heh heh.  I’m so immature…then there was the fun moment when we passed a store called “Mostly Boxes” (seriously, British people: what are you doing?).  I would have been fine if Steve had not decided to comment, “Mostly boxes, but we have a few sacks as well.”  Only after I died laughing did Steve realize what he’d said, and announce in an absurdly loud voice, “Rachel, you pervert!” causing a family in front of us to turn around and stare.  Clearly I am not welcome back in Windsor; hopefully this weekend in York will be slightly less…weird.

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