Readers of Traditional Home in the mid-1990s were treated to the wry, observant, and flat-out funny musings of American author Bill Bryson on life in England. His assignments were loose: Write about whatever catches your fancy. Some of the pieces seemed close to his heart (His very first one began with the words, “I live in a tiny village in that green and snug part of northern England called the Yorkshire Dales”). Others less so, although every one was written in the first person, which will seem only appropriate to readers of his travel books such as Notes from a Sunburned Country and A Walk in the Woods.
The subjects of the Anglophile column ranged from a lament for the disappearing red telephone booth (written in the years before cell phone use put to risk all telephone booths, whatever their design), to British food (praising it!) to the glory of the British murder mystery. No matter the topic, when a piece would arrive in the mail, we rarely had to touch a word, it would be so well-crafted. And it has been a distinct pleasure to re-read them all in preparation for posting them online.
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