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I suppose my love of England first started when I was very young. I was raised on books from the classic British authors, such as the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen, Agatha Christie, Charles Dickens and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Also, I have very fond memories of my step-mother watching "Masterpiece Theater" on Sunday nights, and "Mystery!" with Dame Diana Rigg on Thursday nights. I can remember sitting on the floor by the couch on which she sat, propped up with one of those reading pillows humming along to the opening themes of these two shows. It was one of the only times when we actually got along. These two things, classic literature and British television, more than anything else, introduced me to the wonders of this tiny island country. How could such a small place be so cultured? So powerful? So deeply historical? And, have such endless beauty? The rolling hills, the craggy, chalky cliffs, the endless moors. I was fascinated. And, it wasn't just England. I was also very intrigued by Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland and Wales. It seemed the stuff of fairy tales. My fairy tales. As I have gotten older, the fascination has grown. Something about these two tiny islands evokes a great sense of comfort in me. Perhaps, it's remembering the novels I read as a child, or the fond memories of bonding with my step-mother through British telly, I don't know. I do know, however, that I feel more connected with the U.K., than I do the states. Does this make sense?! Well, no, it doesn't. But, when have I ever "made sense"?! I'm just going on gut feelings here.....intuition, so to say. Hopefully, someday I'll be in a position to visit frequently and with long duration. Until then, I suppose Jane Austen and "Inspector Morse" will have to do...