By Elizabeth Murphy
Dear sons,
Thanks again for the travel gift certificate and for the nudge to exit my comfort cocoon. Your
dear mother, R.I.P., would have scolded you for wasting hard-earned bucks baiting me to travel
overseas. We all know fifty-two miles is the farthest I ever strayed from the nest. I took my first
breaths here and, please God, my last. In the meantime, you’re right—might as well make the
best of my retirement. When I read your card, I thought at first you meant I should visit London,
Kentucky. There’s one in Ohio too. Then I saw your ‘have fun in England.’ That was two weeks
ago. Since then, I’ve been preparing for the trip and have progress to report on.
The day after I got your card, I headed straight to the library. Thank goodness for
librarians, in particular, Darlene, at the local branch. What they didn’t have on their shelves,
Darlene either ordered from another branch or helped me search the Internet. The picture books
filled the library table. St. Paul’s, Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace—I toured them all.
Did you know there was once an elephant in the London Tower? They’re not big into baseball
over there. I won’t fault them that all the same. Darlene got me set up on the computer with
headsets. One game of cricket was enough for me. Another day, I watched snoozed Othello, the
play, through the National Theatre.
She’s a real whizz at the computer, Darlene is. She even found me a language lesson on
YouTube. I’ve been practicing. “It’s jolly hard. I’m knackered. Where’s the loo? Fancy a proper
cuppa?” Blimey, their hotels are expensive. One website I checked said a taxi from the airport
would set me back $100! On top of it, imagine having to fork out $120 to get 100 pounds
sterling. That’s bloody robbery. Bonkers as they say. Darlene agreed. Ever heard of high tea? ‘A
British favorite favourite’ one site boasted. They offer them at the Augusta Hotel in the next
county. Sixty-five miles. That’s a bit far for a taste of British culture if you ask me. I bought
some scones at the supermarket instead. A little butter and they’re not too dry. Wouldn’t want to
live off them. Tea anyone? Nothing beats Nescafe Tasters’ Choice instant coffee first thing in the
morning. High tea’s not for me.
It’s been a hectic two weeks. But I learned and experienced a lot—enough to realize I
don’t need to go to London. Or anywhere! Two weeks of Darlene helping me research at the
library confirmed what I already know—I’m happy right where I am. Don’t worry about the
certificate. One of you can use it or split it between the two of you. If you really want to give me
something, a new mower for the lawn would come in handy.
‘Cheerio’ and stay in touch.
Dad
PS: Darlene and I are going out to supper together on Saturday. An Italian restaurant. Like I said,
I had my fill of London for now.
Elizabeth is the author of the novel An Imperfect Librarian (Breakwater Books). Her short fiction has appeared in various journals and magazines including Quibble.Lit, the Compass Rose Literary Journal, and is forthcoming in Nixes Mate Review and MoonPark Review. A retired academic originally from Newfoundland, Elizabeth now reads and writes in Nova Scotia, Canada.
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