Home. Sweet, glorious home.
I am happy to be back. I didn't realize while I was coasting through classes and catching coaches through the UK that the niggling feelings of missing something were in reality the sweet calls of my motherland, and more specifically, my mother. My home is largely so appealing because of mom. (But dad, I love you too :) I don't think anyone can walk through our front doors without feeling a giant sense of warmth and hospitality. This is not to say I did not feel at home in Charlbury (Beccy was a great hostess) but this is MY home. When I walked through the front doors, the love was there- in the form of friends, family, salads, and sausages.
It is so nice to be home.
But let me backtrack a bit, and give you all a brief sketch of what my past few weeks were like. After Heather and I caught our train to the right airport, we made it to Belfast, and proceeded to have 3 fantastic days in Northern Ireland. The highlight for me was our day trip to Derry, sitting front row in a coach bus listening to Josef, our Irish tour guide, go to town on the mike- filling us in on Irish facts, folklore, and using any spare minute to sing his heart out, which was quite obviously lodged in Ireland. My personal favorite was his selection of the Rankin Family "the girl from Belfast city". Brought me right back to my childhood, listening to mom rock out with the vacuum cleaner to that very song. Like I said- my mom is hip.
We had a few stops along the Irish coast which were just breathtaking. Jagged cliffs, bright blue water, and a crisp, fresh wind- possibly gale- that kept us on our toes. Neither of us wanted to have to be the ones to write home saying we fell off the Irish cliffs. The history of Ireland fascinated me. The protestant/Catholic divide is still so alive. You could actually feel it in the gales. Weird.
But, the time did come for us to pack our things and head east. This was done at 4 am, on the Loyalist streets of Belfast, where we had to catch a suspicious bus that we hoped would eventually arrive. We plunked down on the street, and waited for others to turn up, to ease our troubled minds. Well, we got what we wished for, in the form of a young drunken Irishman, who kept us very entertained with ridiculous Irish jokes. Bless his heart :) Then a taxi snagged him up, and our bus pulled in. Before we knew it (literally, the flight was about 30 minutes) we landed in Edinburgh, which in my opinion is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to. Who else can boast a castle on a hill in the center of their city? (I am sure some countries can, so don't actually answer that). We got to our hostel exhausted, but I was feeling especially dutch, and so I worked that morning from 11-1, stripping bed sheets and making beds, which earned me a total of 7.50 pounds, or (how I preferred to think about it) a free night of room and board. Hooray for a stubborn work ethic.
Then I saw James. To describe it in a word- wonderful. His flight landed right on time, I managed to find my way to the airport with relative ease (considering I have a brain that cannot turn itself into a map) and then I waited, which felt like an eternity, for him to pop out of the doors. Granted, I was facing the wrong set of doors, but I caught him out of the corner of my eye, and then actually caught him as he sprinted over. Nothing like a good bear hug.
The next week was a blur, which saw us touring the city, taking a highland tour, climbing the craigs, enjoying some nice pubs, enjoying some nice company, and taking the overnight bus to London. I must admit, I did not fully put myself into James' shoes, considering I was in full travel mode, and he was coming off of very little sleep after exams, had been travelling for ages, and lost 5 hours in the process. My brilliant idea of taking an overnight bus to save money on a hostel meant that James had to put up with 8 hours on a bus that didn't exactly like long legs and torsos, whereas I have this weird way of falling asleep practically anywhere. However, for his sake, I stayed awake and sang some tunes and told some stories. This was great until the bus driver actually pulled over and reamed me out for keeping everyone on the coach awake. Big exaggeration on his part, but I shut up.
At 6:30 am. we pulled into Victoria station, parked ourselves at a McDonalds and waited for Tim and his cousin Derek to meet us. James took that opportunity to change out of his pajamas in the nearest washroom. The only reason I mention such a trivial thing is that James' before and after face is branded into my mind- heading towards the 'loo' - happy anticipation. Being charged 20 pence and being under the watchful eye of a security guard whose sole pleasure in life is probably derived from rushing people off toilets- saw the reemergence of one angry James. I found this quite entertaining. He saw this as a great injustice, and resolved to get his revenge by stretching his bladder. We found free toilets after that.
Hanging out with Tim again was great. We sat for a few hours in St. James Park, watching crazy birds and catching up. We hit up all the main touristy things- of which St. Paul's Cathedral was a highlight. By the afternoon though, I was ready to get out of the city and set my feet back in my little town. Those few days flew by, and before we knew it we were flying by. I came home to a surprise welcome home party, which was fantastic. I stayed up till about 11:30pm (which is 3:30 am) went to bed still feeling quite awake, then woke up bright and early and headed to work for a good solid 9 hour day. It is now day two- which consisted of a fabulous day of work with my good friends Katrina, Robyn, Kristina, and Vaness, and I have yet to even feel a little bit sleepy. Jet lag is a myth people.
But anyways, it is wonderful to be home. I have high hopes for this summer, and I can't wait till the weather stops creating ice. Until then, I will wear gloves when I weed pots to save my cuticles.
Cheers to everyone from ABU and Redeemer, because I miss you all already! I hope to hear from you guys throughout the summer. It truly was an experience of a life time, and I will never forget you guys!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Scotland!
Travelling with Heather is like a walk in the park. She's a veteran. She knows what she's doing, she's been around the world, she could probobly do this in her sleep. I feel no need to check the map or double check airport locations, because I assume Heather has it under control. And there we have it. That little fatal word. Assume.
Since we took off to London Monday morning, things have been in our favor. Timot, Heather and I spent an incredible day in London, caught our bus no problem, made great time to Glasgow, and found Crystal's house with ease. The day was spent relaxing with Heather's cousin and her son Milo, exploring the sketchy areas of town, and then sitting back and having a pint/the best hot chocolate in the world on a cute little cobblestone road. We were home on time for a fantastic dinner of salmon, rice, and broccoli, then kicked back to watch a movie. I slept like a log.
We woke up on time, had some breakfast, and headed out the door right on schedule. You couldn't ask for a smoother transition from home to bus to airport. Once at the Glasgow airport, I thought I'd be extra safe and ask some lady which terminal Ryan Air flew out of. To which she responded with a very casual " Oh- Ryan Air doesn't fly from this airport".
Shit.
Who knew Glasgow had two airports?! From there things got interesting. We booked it to the nearest bus, caught that to the train station, waited 25 minutes for the train, than crossed our fingers and hoped like hell the train would get us there on time. It was a 40 minute train ride. ( Which we were given for FREE-- and we are still not sure why, but we figured we better not ask any questions). This entire time, Heather is finding the situation incredibly funny- and I am wondering why on earth the airport claims it is in Glasgow, when we were clearly not IN Glasgow. But, I am happy to say the train ride was beautiful, we made it there, and with time to spare. The best part is that the flight was only 20 minutes long! It took us longer to walk to the bus station that morning! Ridiculous.
But anyways, we are in Belfast, and it has been a fantastic day. We wandered all over the place for a solid 4 hours, made it back to our hostel by around 8, and cooked ourselves a mean chicken alfredo dish. We also met two very entertaining Canadians, who added a lot to the general hostel atmosphere. This hostel is fantastic.
Tomorrow we do a tour that takes us up into the hills. I can't wait! Heather is already in bed, but I was unaware of the time and had a coffee at about 10:30. Woops.
Travelling is fun.
Since we took off to London Monday morning, things have been in our favor. Timot, Heather and I spent an incredible day in London, caught our bus no problem, made great time to Glasgow, and found Crystal's house with ease. The day was spent relaxing with Heather's cousin and her son Milo, exploring the sketchy areas of town, and then sitting back and having a pint/the best hot chocolate in the world on a cute little cobblestone road. We were home on time for a fantastic dinner of salmon, rice, and broccoli, then kicked back to watch a movie. I slept like a log.
We woke up on time, had some breakfast, and headed out the door right on schedule. You couldn't ask for a smoother transition from home to bus to airport. Once at the Glasgow airport, I thought I'd be extra safe and ask some lady which terminal Ryan Air flew out of. To which she responded with a very casual " Oh- Ryan Air doesn't fly from this airport".
Shit.
Who knew Glasgow had two airports?! From there things got interesting. We booked it to the nearest bus, caught that to the train station, waited 25 minutes for the train, than crossed our fingers and hoped like hell the train would get us there on time. It was a 40 minute train ride. ( Which we were given for FREE-- and we are still not sure why, but we figured we better not ask any questions). This entire time, Heather is finding the situation incredibly funny- and I am wondering why on earth the airport claims it is in Glasgow, when we were clearly not IN Glasgow. But, I am happy to say the train ride was beautiful, we made it there, and with time to spare. The best part is that the flight was only 20 minutes long! It took us longer to walk to the bus station that morning! Ridiculous.
But anyways, we are in Belfast, and it has been a fantastic day. We wandered all over the place for a solid 4 hours, made it back to our hostel by around 8, and cooked ourselves a mean chicken alfredo dish. We also met two very entertaining Canadians, who added a lot to the general hostel atmosphere. This hostel is fantastic.
Tomorrow we do a tour that takes us up into the hills. I can't wait! Heather is already in bed, but I was unaware of the time and had a coffee at about 10:30. Woops.
Travelling is fun.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Pip Pip
I was deleting some of the paper's saved on my computer that I don't ever want to read again, when I found this. I'm not sure when or why I wrote it, but it serves as a nice summary of how I felt and feel about this wonderful town.
It’s amazing how small town life can grow on you. At first you don’t know what to think. It’s not great, but it’s not terrible, it’s just different. Then you start to like the “different”, then you start to love the “different” until it’s not so different from what you like, and then there you have it- you’re hooked. Once your “like” turns into “crave”, you know it’s the real deal. That’s how I feel about this place. I’m not sure what it is, maybe the spring air that has brought every possible tree down my lane into full blossom, or maybe it’s the constant church bells, or the girl practicing piano across the paper thin wall, or perhaps the way the town comes alive on weekends. I just don’t know what it is, but my schedule here is consistent. I wake up, I jog around the town for 20 minutes ( believe me when I say this is a small town), I eat muesli, I go to class, and I look forward to getting off that train and re-entering my little home away from home. Tiger greets me every day, having established that we must play together for at least 5-10 minutes a day, I go to my room, I try to tidy it, I fail at that, and then I make myself a cup of coffee and see what the T.V. has to offer.
It just makes me really appreciate this kind of opportunity. I don’t think I’ll have it ever again. Ever. That’s a very long time. I am at home in a complete stranger’s home. I am living in England, with a very cool girl, with whom I just spent a good majority of my Friday evening with at the pub, joking with friends and drinking alcoholic Cider (which I haven’t had back home, and it’s a crying shame) School is not tough, although perhaps getting great grades is, and I am not worried in the least about making it through this course. I am happy. Better yet-I am content. I will miss this place.
It’s amazing how small town life can grow on you. At first you don’t know what to think. It’s not great, but it’s not terrible, it’s just different. Then you start to like the “different”, then you start to love the “different” until it’s not so different from what you like, and then there you have it- you’re hooked. Once your “like” turns into “crave”, you know it’s the real deal. That’s how I feel about this place. I’m not sure what it is, maybe the spring air that has brought every possible tree down my lane into full blossom, or maybe it’s the constant church bells, or the girl practicing piano across the paper thin wall, or perhaps the way the town comes alive on weekends. I just don’t know what it is, but my schedule here is consistent. I wake up, I jog around the town for 20 minutes ( believe me when I say this is a small town), I eat muesli, I go to class, and I look forward to getting off that train and re-entering my little home away from home. Tiger greets me every day, having established that we must play together for at least 5-10 minutes a day, I go to my room, I try to tidy it, I fail at that, and then I make myself a cup of coffee and see what the T.V. has to offer.
It just makes me really appreciate this kind of opportunity. I don’t think I’ll have it ever again. Ever. That’s a very long time. I am at home in a complete stranger’s home. I am living in England, with a very cool girl, with whom I just spent a good majority of my Friday evening with at the pub, joking with friends and drinking alcoholic Cider (which I haven’t had back home, and it’s a crying shame) School is not tough, although perhaps getting great grades is, and I am not worried in the least about making it through this course. I am happy. Better yet-I am content. I will miss this place.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Well everyone, I am pleased to announce that my work in Charlbury is done.
I am not quite sure that sentence is accurate. I'm not really sure if I'm "pleased", nor am I sure if it's been "work". Clearly-- I should have just avoided that sentence all together, because it has now been the cause of three more lines that only serve to outline vague uncertainty, and really tell you nothing. Make that four.
But what I'm trying to say is that today, roughly around the time I finished watching Scrubs, I ran down to the baptist church for my last meeting with the printer. I hate that printer. And that printer hates me. The stapler also was a bit moody- we all have our moments. But aside from these minor setbacks, the thing is done. Two things really, about twenty pages total, and with a poor works cited (that's always been my weak point). But the content is there, and unfortunately not here- so let me tell you what I've really been up to.
Yesterday I went into Oxford solely because there would be a free lunch, and because I didn't want to stay behind in Charlbury and let a paid train ticket go to waste. The train got in at 11, giving me roughly 2 hours to kill before lunch. (I'm going to get back to that sentence in a minute, because I think there is something fundamentally wrong with the mentality that one must "kill time") It really isn't too difficult to "kill" two hours in Oxford. The city has a lot to offer. So let me walk you through it.
I started off by cruising to the market square, where every Wednesday you can bargain for bananas, grab some vegetables, check out the souvenirs, or make a b-line for the candy table. Everything on this table is roughy one pound, and this table is what makes Wednesday a special day. Yesterday was special. A bag of chewy dinosaur candies for only 50 pence, found on the one pound table. You understand why this makes me smile.
From there, I made my way to "American Street". There is something about this street that just sucks you in- there's no avoiding it. Rain or shine, people perform. I've heard accordians, violins, guitars, harmonica's, and one harp. The harp was yesterday, and the man was there for roughly 10 hours. American Street has stamina. There is a constant stream of people, usually loitering around the McDonalds and KFC (why it's called American Street) and no cars allowed. People-watching is an excellent way to kill an afternoon. But, before I could let myself get sucked into the masses, I got distracted by a tiny mall with a visible escalator. I don't know why, but I had a sudden urge to let it take me somewhere. That somewhere was- no suprise- upstairs. But then I saw another escalator, and was curious what was on the 3rd floor. I couldn't stop there, however, because there was a 4th. Then a 5th. It's amazing how something that appears to be the size of a local mini-mart can turn into a 5 level mansion. And mom, I'd like to say that I was captivated by the latest fashions on display, and made a few trendy purchases.. but let's be real. I was only there to ride the escalators, and then the sunshine was calling my name.
So I was indeed sucked into American street, and spewed out the other end- the more affordable end. "Primark" exists for people with tight budgets, but who still like to look presentable in public. I bought a few shirts.
Then I found a book shop, and the time just flew. It was a good morning.
The group got together for a tasty lunch, and we decided to meet up at 4 to try the C.S. Lewis walk at Magdalene College. And this is where the phrase "killing time" cropped up again, and Tim and I decided it just had to go. Why this idea of "killing time"? Don't we hate to see it go? Does the constant anticipation of something else kind of kill our ability to enjoy the moment? While we chilled out in the botanical garden, under C.S. Lewis' favorite tree- a black pine for those who are interested- lying on our backs and staring at the blue/cloudy skies, I decided to try and eliminate that phrase from my vocabulary. I just don't like it. Now, saying that, I realize I've already used it about three times in this very blog. I'm learning..
After the walk, we met everyone at the Eagle and Child for one last pub meal in Oxford. Talk about feeling the need to reconnect with Clive Staples. The food was yum-the beer was yum, and splurging on a dessert was a great way to top things off. Yum, yum, yum. Clive would be dazzled by that display of intellect, I'm sure.
I'm not sure what happened to me, but after the meal, the walk to the train, the train ride, and the final walk home- I was beat. Beccy and I watched a bit of "tele", and then I was out cold. Gold.
Today was very relaxed. After another Oxford experience, I came home, got my paper's in, and then ran into Mad. I enjoy running into Mad, because she's always got something to say, and I find that very amusing. This time was a bit more strenuous however, involving not just my ears, but my need to convince her that she didn't need Mark and Tim to help her move the giant wooden beams out of her garden, because I was fully capable. Tim and I effectively pried, pulled, and dug out the wooden beams, kept firmly in place by years of gravity, and large spikes. So with shovels, crowbar and sledghammer, we had those beams up and out, and snugly arranged in the neighbour's garden in no time, and in no light. When the sun goes down, there's not much to go by, so hopefully Jillian wakes up and actually thinks her garden looks decent. We did our best, and I got a sense of what it is to work again. Excitement for summer is building.
By now it's past 9- and I realize I'm on lunch duty for tomorrow. So, I ran home and grabbed the money, then ran back to Jillian's, because Tim was there hanging out with Beth. Then we went up to the store, bought stuff, went back down to the church to store it, and then I could finally come home for dinner. Dinner consisted of cold pizza and sour milk at 10:15. Cold pizza- great. Sour milk. Not. Eating after 10? Goes straight to the hips.
It's 11:30 pm. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm fully enjoying the moment.
Cheers everyone- I am done.
I am not quite sure that sentence is accurate. I'm not really sure if I'm "pleased", nor am I sure if it's been "work". Clearly-- I should have just avoided that sentence all together, because it has now been the cause of three more lines that only serve to outline vague uncertainty, and really tell you nothing. Make that four.
But what I'm trying to say is that today, roughly around the time I finished watching Scrubs, I ran down to the baptist church for my last meeting with the printer. I hate that printer. And that printer hates me. The stapler also was a bit moody- we all have our moments. But aside from these minor setbacks, the thing is done. Two things really, about twenty pages total, and with a poor works cited (that's always been my weak point). But the content is there, and unfortunately not here- so let me tell you what I've really been up to.
Yesterday I went into Oxford solely because there would be a free lunch, and because I didn't want to stay behind in Charlbury and let a paid train ticket go to waste. The train got in at 11, giving me roughly 2 hours to kill before lunch. (I'm going to get back to that sentence in a minute, because I think there is something fundamentally wrong with the mentality that one must "kill time") It really isn't too difficult to "kill" two hours in Oxford. The city has a lot to offer. So let me walk you through it.
I started off by cruising to the market square, where every Wednesday you can bargain for bananas, grab some vegetables, check out the souvenirs, or make a b-line for the candy table. Everything on this table is roughy one pound, and this table is what makes Wednesday a special day. Yesterday was special. A bag of chewy dinosaur candies for only 50 pence, found on the one pound table. You understand why this makes me smile.
From there, I made my way to "American Street". There is something about this street that just sucks you in- there's no avoiding it. Rain or shine, people perform. I've heard accordians, violins, guitars, harmonica's, and one harp. The harp was yesterday, and the man was there for roughly 10 hours. American Street has stamina. There is a constant stream of people, usually loitering around the McDonalds and KFC (why it's called American Street) and no cars allowed. People-watching is an excellent way to kill an afternoon. But, before I could let myself get sucked into the masses, I got distracted by a tiny mall with a visible escalator. I don't know why, but I had a sudden urge to let it take me somewhere. That somewhere was- no suprise- upstairs. But then I saw another escalator, and was curious what was on the 3rd floor. I couldn't stop there, however, because there was a 4th. Then a 5th. It's amazing how something that appears to be the size of a local mini-mart can turn into a 5 level mansion. And mom, I'd like to say that I was captivated by the latest fashions on display, and made a few trendy purchases.. but let's be real. I was only there to ride the escalators, and then the sunshine was calling my name.
So I was indeed sucked into American street, and spewed out the other end- the more affordable end. "Primark" exists for people with tight budgets, but who still like to look presentable in public. I bought a few shirts.
Then I found a book shop, and the time just flew. It was a good morning.
The group got together for a tasty lunch, and we decided to meet up at 4 to try the C.S. Lewis walk at Magdalene College. And this is where the phrase "killing time" cropped up again, and Tim and I decided it just had to go. Why this idea of "killing time"? Don't we hate to see it go? Does the constant anticipation of something else kind of kill our ability to enjoy the moment? While we chilled out in the botanical garden, under C.S. Lewis' favorite tree- a black pine for those who are interested- lying on our backs and staring at the blue/cloudy skies, I decided to try and eliminate that phrase from my vocabulary. I just don't like it. Now, saying that, I realize I've already used it about three times in this very blog. I'm learning..
After the walk, we met everyone at the Eagle and Child for one last pub meal in Oxford. Talk about feeling the need to reconnect with Clive Staples. The food was yum-the beer was yum, and splurging on a dessert was a great way to top things off. Yum, yum, yum. Clive would be dazzled by that display of intellect, I'm sure.
I'm not sure what happened to me, but after the meal, the walk to the train, the train ride, and the final walk home- I was beat. Beccy and I watched a bit of "tele", and then I was out cold. Gold.
Today was very relaxed. After another Oxford experience, I came home, got my paper's in, and then ran into Mad. I enjoy running into Mad, because she's always got something to say, and I find that very amusing. This time was a bit more strenuous however, involving not just my ears, but my need to convince her that she didn't need Mark and Tim to help her move the giant wooden beams out of her garden, because I was fully capable. Tim and I effectively pried, pulled, and dug out the wooden beams, kept firmly in place by years of gravity, and large spikes. So with shovels, crowbar and sledghammer, we had those beams up and out, and snugly arranged in the neighbour's garden in no time, and in no light. When the sun goes down, there's not much to go by, so hopefully Jillian wakes up and actually thinks her garden looks decent. We did our best, and I got a sense of what it is to work again. Excitement for summer is building.
By now it's past 9- and I realize I'm on lunch duty for tomorrow. So, I ran home and grabbed the money, then ran back to Jillian's, because Tim was there hanging out with Beth. Then we went up to the store, bought stuff, went back down to the church to store it, and then I could finally come home for dinner. Dinner consisted of cold pizza and sour milk at 10:15. Cold pizza- great. Sour milk. Not. Eating after 10? Goes straight to the hips.
It's 11:30 pm. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm fully enjoying the moment.
Cheers everyone- I am done.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Practical Jokes
WHAT?!?!
Yesterday I could have been sun-tanning on my deck, or playing leap frog. Neither of those activities could be accomplished because I was caged indoors for roughly 6 hours writing my final exams. That was yesterday. 
Today:
Yesterday I could have been sun-tanning on my deck, or playing leap frog. Neither of those activities could be accomplished because I was caged indoors for roughly 6 hours writing my final exams. That was yesterday. Today: I wake up roughly around 8:00. The birds start the band up, the piano chimes in, Tiger stirs...what can I say-we are creatures of habit. So I orient myself, remember that today is Sunday, and that perhaps I will wear my nice spring skirt with sandals. These thoughts are interrupted by a lot of children yelling and laughing outside- so I whip back my curtain to see what's up.
BAM. Sandals are out.
This excites me. So much in fact that I ran in my pajamas to go wake up Heather. She was impressed, but not "sweet! Ya- I'll go sledding with you" excited, so I tried my luck at Sharon and Jodi's. 
After drilling 5 or 6 snowballs at their window- futile efforts when people sleep like the dead- I broke into their house and woke them up so they could share my joy. I was really crossing my fingers that this would impress them, because if not- I was screwed. Some people really like their sleep. Again- they were impressed, but it was the "I'm half asleep, why are you here- oh because of the snow- this all makes sense... please take the video camera out of my face" sort of impressed.
Not really what I was going for.
And so I set off to my favorite field, on my own, with my camera. I forgot to mention that I was documenting all of these events. The last video went something like this.." this is my beautiful field transformed" Graceful full circle rotation, followed by a misstep, a leg in the air, two legs in the air, back on the ground.. and video still rolling.
I love the snow.
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