In my mental England, this sort of thing happens all the time. A kid playing soccer cuts his foot on a rock in the grass and discovers he’s tripped on part of a Roman mosaic hidden beneath the sod. Or, in this case, a family discovers a hidden church beneath their house:

A bored family in Shropshire, England, after having a few too many drinks one night, started playing around with an air grate in their living room floor—which they managed to lift up and out of its grid, crawl through and under the house, and there discover an entire church sitting in the darkness where a basement should be. It was a “dark chapel complete with a large wooden cross on the floor.”

[via BLDG BLOG]

Follow some links through there and you’ll see that the healthy guess is that this is some 1700’s era secret-Catholic chapel. But its presence was known as recently as the 1930s (or so) when somebody brought newspapers down into that holy cellar. And did I mention the secret staircase that comes out in the cupboard? Well, there is one.

Cherie Priest pointed to this on her blog, and I thought you’d like it. This is how graphic designers got gigs back in the day:

Picture the designer in the home of some London literati, holding the book out before some printing-lord. He turns the pages slowly, hoping the next design, or the next, will earn an audible gasp or widen a noble eye. “Or, milord,” says the designer, “I can offer unique foliate initials for your next formal pamphlet.”

The lord nods. “Yes, very good. But I’ve just bought a folio of poetic grotesqueries and a few plays of witchcraft and bombast, which I am soon to put into print. What sort of experience do you have with lewd capitals?”

[Lots more photos and designs at the link.]

By following a link through the blog of the inestimable Jeff Tidball, I cam upon a review of Nina’s coffee shop at Cafeapolis, a site touring the Twin Cities’ coffeehouses. I’m happy to say that I visited most of those shops when I was living there, but I happened to live one block from Nina’s (I could see it from my apartment) and spent quite a bit of time there… even though I didn’t find that comfortable a place to work. Always a nice staff, though.

Looking at the current photos, though, I see they’ve put in nice chairs and a sofa and all that. Likewise, Garrison Keillor (that’s quite a long tie, Garrison) has put a little bookstore into the basement shop directly below Nina’s, linked by a little hundred-year-old staircase. When I was there, it was an overpriced but nice art supply store. Having a book store a block from the house would’ve been dangerous (but also would’ve been an example of exactly why I love living in cities), so I’m relieved and jealous.

I once stood behind Garrison Keillor in line at Nina’s. He lives in the neighborhood. If he wasn’t easy enough to recognize by his hair, his jaw would’ve given him away. I like The Writer’s Almanac quite a bit, and have enjoyed some of his other writing, but absolutely cannot stand A Prarie Home Companion. So I was conflicted there, standing next to him, but just for a moment. Then I got over it and went on with my day.

Anyway, if you happen to still be in the Twin Cities, visit Nina’s.

By following a link through the blog of the inestimable Jeff Tidball, I cam upon a review of Nina’s coffee shop at Cafeapolis, a site touring the Twin Cities’ coffeehouses. I’m happy to say that I visited most of those shops when I was living there, but I happened to live one block from Nina’s (I could see it from my apartment) and spent quite a bit of time there… even though I didn’t find that comfortable a place to work. Always a nice staff, though.

Looking at the current photos, though, I see they’ve put in nice chairs and a sofa and all that. Likewise, Garrison Keillor (that’s quite a long tie, Garrison) has put a little bookstore into the basement shop directly below Nina’s, linked by a little hundred-year-old staircase. When I was there, it was an overpriced but nice art supply store. Having a book store a block from the house would’ve been dangerous (but also would’ve been an example of exactly why I love living in cities), so I’m relieved and jealous.

I once stood behind Garrison Keillor in line at Nina’s. He lives in the neighborhood. If he wasn’t easy enough to recognize by his hair, his jaw would’ve given him away. I like The Writer’s Almanac quite a bit, and have enjoyed some of his other writing, but absolutely cannot stand A Prarie Home Companion. So I was conflicted there, standing next to him, but just for a moment. Then I got over it and went on with my day.

Anyway, if you happen to still be in the Twin Cities, visit Nina’s.