“We arrived at the Kilns around 2:00 that afternoon. Melissa greeted us at the front door when we arrived. Melissa is from the States, and she\u2019s filling in for the full-time Kilns warden who\u2019s currently back in the States dealing with some visa issues. She welcomed us in and we met up with the rest of the group in the kitchen. Dan, who lives at the Kilns, was working away on preparing the afternoon dinner, while a married couple who we didn\u2019t know sat at the kitchen counter, preparing something that involved very small eggs.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey\u2019re quail eggs,\u201d the guy said, turning to us with a smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh,\u201d was my response. \u201cI\u2019ve never had quail eggs before.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, they taste like eggs, but smaller,\u201d he joked, in his British accent.<\/p>\n
Dan introduced us to his two friends. He a nurse. She a youth worker in a local church. They both seemed really nice. He was tall, with spiky hair and glasses. She wore a cardigan and a pearl necklace.<\/p>\n
We enjoyed getting to know them a bit while Dan finished preparing the dinner (lamb with all the fixings) and they finished arranging the salad on several plates (quail eggs and asparagus). It wasn\u2019t long before we were all winding down the hallway toward the dining room, trying to find room among all the plates, glasses, flatware and food. The table was literally overflowing.<\/p>\n
\n\u201cRight, well, who\u2019d like to say grace?\u201d Dan asked, taking a seat at the head of the table, with his back to the window where the afternoon sun was pouring into the home.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d like to hear an American blessing,\u201d said Dan\u2019s friend, with a smile. Laughter rounded the table.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure, I\u2019d be happy to,\u201d I said. \u201cUnless you\u2019d like to,\u201d I said, turning to Jen.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, that\u2019s okay,\u201d she said, somewhat sheepishly. \u201cI\u2019ll let you go.\u201d<\/p>\n
So I did. And then we dug in. Starting with the quail eggs and asparagus (he was right\u2013they do taste just like eggs, only smaller) before moving on to the main course: lamb, potatoes, yorkshire pudding (which isn\u2019t actually pudding\u2026) and broccoli. It was amazing. All of it. We filled our plates several times, and emptied them several times, before leaning back heavily into our chairs and talking about our plans for the Easter egg hunt.<\/p>\n
Dan had the idea of having an Easter egg hunt around the property. Just the six of us \u201cadults.\u201d I thought it was a great idea. We all brought our own chocolate eggs, which we\u2019d be hiding. Everyone else brought these gigantic chocolate eggs, whereas Jen and I brought these small chocolate eggs. We called it strategy.<\/p>\n
After a bit of deliberation around the dining room table, as to whether we should have it indoors or outdoors, we decided we\u2019d hold the Easter egg hunt out in the nature reserve, in the woods around the pond just a short walk from Lewis\u2019s house. A pond where he used to swim and take his punt out regularly.<\/p>\n
We left the dishes and headed up toward the pond, with our chocolate eggs in hand. We split up, two at a time, and we had several minutes to run and hide our eggs. Then, just to make it interesting, we decided to write up hints to help people find our egg on a small piece of paper, which we\u2019d draw from a hat. This was all very complicated, I know. But that\u2019s what happens when you get a bunch of adults having their own Easter egg hunt around C.S. Lewis\u2019s home.<\/p>\n
We all took several minutes to scribble down our clues before tossing them in a hat of Dan\u2019s. I made mine rhyme. And then we took turns drawing the clues. Puzzled looks all around.<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right, let\u2019s go,\u201d Dan said with a wide grin.<\/p>\n
And we were off. Dan was the first to find his egg, running back to where we started with great excitement. It felt just like a normal Easter egg hunt. Only we were a bit taller. It wasn\u2019t long before I found the egg that went with my clue. Hidden under a small, wooden footbridge. Dan and I stood at the edge of the pond, chocolate eggs in hand, and waited for the rest of the group.<\/p>\n
Turns out I hadn\u2019t been completely fair in hiding my egg. Well, I take that back. I hadn\u2019t been completely fair in hiding my egg for anyone under seven feet tall (it was on top of a downed tree, which I could reach, but was a bit out of sight for the five-foot friend of Dan\u2019s who was trying to find it). So I helped her.<\/p>\n
About 20 minutes later, we were all walking down the hill toward the Kilns, chocolate Easter eggs in-hand. It was only then that I glanced at my watch and realized what time it was. Already much later than I thought, and too late for us to catch the bus back to the Oxford city center in time for the 6:00 church service at St. Aldate\u2019s that we were planning on going to. I felt horrible . . . It was Easter, after all. I should\u2019ve been paying better attention.<\/p>\n
Realizing there was no way we\u2019d make it to the service in-time, we took Dan up on his offer to take a seat in the front garden with everyone and enjoy the beautiful evening. It had been a perfect day. Warm. But not too warm. And blue skies.<\/p>\n
Dan brought out his pipe. He explained that Jonathan had just given it to him as a gift. Jonathan is one of the other scholars in residence there at the Kilns.<\/p>\n
\u201cA lot of times we\u2019ll go up to the pond and have a smoke from the bench where Lewis used to sit,\u201d Dan shared with us, while fiddling with the pipe and tobacco. Removing the pipe from a small box.<\/p>\n
Dan\u2019s friend, the nurse, gave him a hard time. About how bad it was for his health. How foolish he was. And how there\u2019s no way he\u2019d ever do that. He was pretty relentless.<\/p>\n
I always associate pipes with my Grandpa. In the evenings, after working on projects around his house when I was growing up, I remember watching him light up his pipe from his reclining chair in the living room. With one eye closed. Focusing as he puffed on the pipe to get it going. Then shaking the match in one hand to put it out. And, to this day, the smell of pipe tobacco makes me feel like a young boy, sitting in my Grandpa\u2019s living room. After a long day of working outside with him. On projects around the house.<\/p>\n
\u201cWould you like a pipe?\u201d Dan asked, looking across the garden at me. \u201cI have an extra one.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUh, sure, yeah,\u201d I said. Realizing I\u2019d never actually smoked a pipe before, and that I had no idea what I was doing. Except for that old picture of my Grandpa in my head.<\/p>\n
I remember telling Jen I wanted a pipe one evening when we were going to bed shortly after moving here to Oxford. Because I liked the smell of them. She told me \u201cno,\u201d because they are bad for you. I told her she was confusing pipes with cigarettes.<\/p>\n
I did my best to arrange the stringy tobacco into the pipe, without looking too much like I had no idea what I was doing, but realizing it was quite clear I had no idea what I was doing. Then came the lighting. Dan threw me a box of matches. Bracing the pipe between my teeth, I struck a match and did my best to light the pile of stringy tobacco sitting in the bowl of the pipe.<\/p>\n
Without realizing it, I had become quite focused on this process. Crossing my eyes to focus my gaze on my match and the pile of tobacco in front of my face. Dan\u2019s friend, the nurse, began laughing at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d he said, with a bit of a restrained laugh. \u201cI don\u2019t mean any offense, but you don\u2019t look very intelligent right now.\u201d That was his British way of saying I looked stupid.<\/p>\n
Everyone else turned to see my face and began to laugh. And I realized he was probably right.<\/p>\n
I gave it a couple more attempts before throwing in the towel and resorting to taking in the smell from Dan\u2019s pipe, which, as it turns out, might actually be better than the real thing. I realized I should probably stick to the sidelines when it comes to smoking a pipe. But, at least I gave it my best. We were at C.S. Lewis\u2019s house after all.<\/p>\n
We enjoyed pudding with the group, a wonderful berry shortcake dessert Jen had brought, before saying our goodbyes and heading off to catch the bus. As we passed through the metal gate that sits between the green hedges in front of the Kilns, the sun beginning its descent just beyond the house, Jen turned to me and said, \u201cYou know, I think today has been one of the most memorable Easters.\u201d And I had to agree.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The following is excerpted from the blog “Ryan&JenGoToEngland.” \u00a0Ryan, a grad student at Oxford, recounts his experiences visiting the Kilns and other places around England. \u00a0Due to the length of the post, we’re copying the section on the Kilns here, but the rest of the blog can be read by following this link. “We arrived […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,27],"tags":[642,456,457,643],"class_list":["post-2945","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-cs-lewis","category-the-kilns","tag-cs-lewis","tag-easter","tag-ryanjengotoengland","tag-the-kilns"],"yoast_head":"\n
Easter at the Kilns - Living the Legacy of C.S. Lewis<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.cslewis.org\/blog\/easter-at-the-kilns\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Easter at the Kilns - Living the Legacy of C.S. 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![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.cslewis.org\/images\/kilns5.jpg\" "\\"The")
<\/p>\n