Further Afield

If you find yourself well outside the walls of London, which shouldn't occur naturally, consider the life in a medieval shire. It exemplifies all the monarchy has aspired to since the year 400 AD. The English pub. Requisite with the low hanging rough hewn beams, often adorned with dried hops and Christmas lights, the regular "regular"- an older gentleman, with a name like Aubrey or Reggie, posted on a step stool very near to the hearth of a warm and lingering wood fire, and at least one watering bowl for a dog. Conspicuously absent are the TVs and the Keno screens, just as they were during the reign of Edward the First. But in the wake of such an entertainment vacuum, something primal has emerged. Adults sitting next to or across from each other engaged in conversation that remains uninterrupted by texting or social media updates. The air is filled with deep guttural laughs and high pitched tittering, often by the same patron. The walls are covered with pictures of cathedrals and royalty, musical instruments, and cigar band collections. The food is sustaining; meat pies, smoked haddock chowder, and Scotch eggs. But perhaps the most satisfying, rewarding experience derived from a visit to an English pub is the honor of witnessing the inception of a new word. Does anyone know what the word "squidgey" means?