All roads lead to Oxford.

Off we go again.  I can't believe I had time to snap a picture of us merging on to a round about. Eeek! I winced on my side of the passenger seat. Just reminding you the struggle was real to hide my fear of getting hit!
Today's destination was really important to me. I had scheduled it months in advance. Being late was not an option. If we didn't make it, there was no plan B. To say the least, I was a bit anxious to get to Oxford.
We arrived 45 minutes early. I was ecstatic.

Heart palpitations ensued as I read the sign. "I'm here. I'm here," I kept saying over and over. I'm not a bit ashamed to say I cried happy tears too.

The speed limit was 10 mph. I made hubby drive about 5. I rolled the window down and breathed the air of this magical place.

"There it is," I gasped. My first glimpse of The Kilns peeking through the leaves of the trees. I was looking at the private home of C S Lewis. 

So thankful hubby was driving. I likely would have crashed!

Hubby parked the car. "What do you want to do? We're way too early."

"What do I want to do?" Silly question. I jumped out of the car and peered over the hedge. Goosebumps, I tell you. Goosebumps. Have you ever yearned to arrive somewhere that was so very important to you? How did it feel when you got there?

I ambled down to the reserve located close to The Kilns.

Turns out this was quite the serendipitous moment for me. One I will never forget. While at the pond, I see an elderly couple with a little girl. 
I say hello to grandparents who are helping their grand-daughter Matilda feed the ducks. 

"Are you having a tour?" The woman asks. 

"Yes, yes I am," I reply.

She turns to me and matter-of-fact states, "I knew him, you know."

I looked at her, stunned. I was speechless. There in front of me stood a woman who actually knew C S Lewis. What do you say? In my case...nothing!

When I stopped staring, I asked her a strange question. "Can I touch you?" She chuckled. "Of course!" She waved me over and hugged me. "I was eight. I don't remember him well."

We went on to have quite the discussion. 

On an ordinary day, I met a woman who actually knew my favorite author. "A rare privilege" I wrote in my journal. I continue to be overwhelmed by that unexpected joy.

I'm going in!