An excerpt from the introduction to Bill Bryson's \"At Home: A Short History of Private Life\"
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Vocal Characteristics
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US West Coast - California, Portland)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
introduction sometime after my wife and I moved into a former Church of England directory in a village of tranquil anonymity in Norfolk, in the eastern most part of England, I had occasion to go up into the attic toe look for the source of a slow but mysterious trip, as there are no stairs to the attic in our house. The process involved a tall stepladder in much unseemly wriggling through a ceiling hedge, which is why I had not been up there before or have ever returned with any enthusiasm since. When I did finally flop into the dusty gloom and clambered to my feet, I was surprised to find a secret door not visible from anywhere outside the house. In an external wall. The door opened easily and let out onto a tiny rooftop space not much larger than a tabletop between the front and back Gables of the house. Victorian houses are often a collection of architectural bewilderment, but this one was starkly unfathomable. Why an architect had troubled to put in a door to a space so lacking an evident need or purpose was beyond explanation. But it did have the magical and unexpected effect of providing the most wonderful view. It is always quietly thrilling to find yourself looking at a world you know well but have never seen from such an angle before. I was perhaps 50 ft above the ground, which in mid Norfolk more or less guarantees a panorama. Immediately in front of me was the ancient Flint church to which our house was once an agile beyond down a slight incline and slightly separate from church and rectory was the village to which both belonged in the distance. In the other direction was women dumb Abby, a heap of medieval splendor commanding the southern skyline. In a field in the middle distance, a tractor rumbled and drew straight lines in the soil. All else in every direction was quiet, agreeable, timeless English countryside.