Out of time's abyss

The day we got back to Ruardean from Bradford, Fiona took all of the Taylor and Wedel boys--save Mike--to Goodrich Castle. It's about 900 years old, and one of a series of fortifications along the border of England and Wales. The last major construction on the castle was in the late 1200s and early 1300s. It was held by both sides alternatively in the English Civil War in the 1600s. The final military action here was a seige in 1645-1646, which ended when the corner of the castle shown above was battered down by a huge mortar named "Roaring Meg", which still exists and is on exhibit at the castle.

It is worth remembering that the castle's half-millennium of valuable military service ended only 25 years after the pilgrims landed at Plymouth Rock. Buildings that old are all over England. Even the Taylor residence, Oakleigh Farm House, has parts that are about 300 years old. Which means that their house is older than my country.


Here's the view over the moat to the drawbridge. In the closeup you can see two small boys. The one in front is Jonno, bravely leading the way. Right behind him, with the blue lightsaber, is London. At this point they were about 150 yards ahead of the rest of us. About the time that we walked up to the drawbridge Jonno shouted hello from the parapet. At which point Fiona asked me if London was with Jonno, and I had to truthfully reply, "I don't know, but I intend to find out."


Fortunately the castle has been unobtrusively child-proofed, without spoiling the whole ruined-medieval-fortification vibe. Here's London on the same parapet from which Jonno had shouted hello. In the background is Roaring Meg, her immensely fat barrel covered with a blue tarp, in front of the same wall her shells battered down more than 360 years ago.


The boys prepared for their castle visit by gathering up all the lightsabers in the house. Here London and Danny pose in front of the entrance to the dungeon, which was unfortunately flooded before our visit, and even more unfortunately flooded during our visit. More about that in a minute.

Almost completely off-topic, the Hasbro expanding-blade lightsabers are great. I'd never picked one up because I figured that the only useful thing one could do with a toy lightsaber is whack it against other people and other lightsabers (which is true) and that no toy-with-moving-parts could withstand that treatment for more than one afternoon (which is false). The Taylor boys have evidently been whacking theirs about for two years, and all are still in good working order. They're dead cheap, too--I picked up a pair for London and me at Wal-Mart today for $7.96 apiece, which has to be one of the all-time great deals. Ignore the deluxe "Force Action" models in the long flower-boxes that go for $20 and require batteries--you want the electronics-free "Basic Lightsaber" in the cardboard bin on the lowest shelf, with the blade and button exposed so you can try it out in the store. Go nuts . . .

. . . and may the Force be with you.


The boys were enacting legendary battles all over that castle, which probably hasn't seen so many people running about with swords in centuries.

Believe it or not, this was my first visit to a real moat-and-parapet castle (not counting the fortress in Albarracin and tower in Teruel, I suppose). We climbed up to the top of the tower to get a look at the surrounding countryside--that's where I took the photo at the top of the post. It was pretty strange to know that between 400 and 900 years ago generations of soldiers had stood up there and watched for invading armies, or waited to be rescued from seiges. Especially since the whole region has been at peace for centuries. It would be like having forts on the border between Oklahoma and Texas (which is not a bad idea, by the way), or rather, it would be like that if Oklahoma and Texas were a thousand years old. I think it is a healthy reminder that people will stand in our ruins a thousand years from now, and wonder about our lives, and what kind of world we left them.


My time at Goodrich Castle was divided, between immense piles of cold stone laid in place centuries ago during times of war, conquest, seige, and famine, and tiny packages of warmth and laughter that never stopped moving, who are blessed to grow up in times and places of peace and plenty. It's a lot to hold in your head, and your heart.

Right after I took that last photo we went down to the moat for a walk around the castle, and the skies opened up and just dumped torrents of rain on us. I had on a hat and a long-sleeved shirt while everyone else had slickers, but it made no difference in the end. After a circuit of the castle we were all thoroughly drenched, and the rain didn't let up during the quarter-mile slog to the car. Danny announced that despite his slicker, the only part of him that wasn't completely waterlogged was a small area of his underwear, which I think was true for everyone (certainly for me), although I didn't take a poll.

Naturally, as soon as we got into the parking lot the rain stopped as if someone had flicked a switch, and the sun came out. Ha ha, England. I'm onto your deceitful ways!

Also naturally, halfway around the moat London ran up to me with rain sheeting down his smiling face and said, "Daddy, we had a good time at the castle!" Mind you, this is the same kid who howls like a dying cat if a drop of water gets in his eyes in the tub. Sheesh!