Witley Court

Autumn is here. My favorite season. …favourite season? This American verses British spelling thing is becoming quite the debacle. I’m starting to switch over to British spelling, as it seems to make more sense while living in this country. But I’m not sure I’m being consistent and sometimes I switch back and forth depending on the circumstance, which just ends up confusing me and possibly others. My phone automatically changes words to British spelling while I type and I have kids who are learning spelling and grammar in school, so it seems only right to go with the flow. I’m not sure if ‘colour’ and ‘centre’ and ‘realise’ will ever feel natural to me – and my US laptop will continue to have a red, wiggly underline, reminding me that ‘favourite’ is clearly spelled wrong.  

So, back in June we passed the year-mark of moving to the UK. It came and went without fanfare and only with the mere recognition of how fast a year passes these days. There is no denying that we saw and did some incredible things in that year. I have hundreds of photos floating around in the mysterious land of computer folders that hold memories these days. They sit there patiently waiting for me to have time to shuffle through them, perhaps share a few with you and with any luck they might find their way out of those averse yellow folders into a lovely photo book one day.  

However, I couldn’t let this particular day get passed up. We have been to many stately homes, manor houses and royal palaces and castles over the past year in the UK, but Witley Court, in Worcestershire, really took our breath away. Once a grand house in the Midlands, it is now in ruins (preserved by the National Trust) after being devastated by fire in 1937. 

We spent an afternoon here in early July, with a picnic on the lawn, imagining all the splendor that once took place here.





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