A Breed Apart

I am convinced that every child should have an English bachelor uncle. Married uncles (American or British) are usually someone else's father and tend to have a reasonable, responsible, well-adjusted way of looking at life. But a bachelor uncle is like Mr. Wiggs in the Mary Poppins book (remember the laughing scene?), and Captain Flint in Swallows and Amazons, and Great Uncle Matthew in Ballet Shoes. There is a touch of Bertie Wooster and Edward Lear and Professor Dodgson about him. Such uncles are not to be confused with contemporary playmates, but neither are they like parents. They are a breed apart. By very definition, bachelor uncles should be dying out, but let us hope that even unto our children's children there will be a hard core of ebullient eccentrics who answer to the name.

~ Joan Bodger
How the Heather Looks

We Like Weather

"We like Weather. Not this or that kind of weather, but just Weather. It's a useful taste if one lives in England."
 How did you learn to do that, Mr. Denniston?" said Jane, "I don't think I should ever learn to like rain and snow."
"It's the other way round," said Denniston. "Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Haven't you ever noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children - and the dogs? They know what's snow's made for."
"I'm sure I hated wet days as a child," said Jane.
"That's because the grown-ups kept you in," said Camilla. Any child loves rain if it's allowed to go out and paddle about in it."

That Hideous Strength
C. S. Lewis