christmas at crick

The bay window that looks out on Crick Road from our living room.

collaborative effort

A few weeks ago Doug, Christy, Amanda, Peter and I were sitting at the table in the kitchen talking. We started talking about Jonathan and how sometimes we help him pick out good outfits. Someone said "as americans how much do we really help him with style?" then Christy said "we totally do! what do you think we are? Backwoods men, and backwoods women??" Then Peter exclaimed "backwoods woman! That is a poem."

The next two hours was a creative poetry fest, with lots and lots of tea.

BACKWOODS WOMAN

Harry, she sits, po-dunk on a bucket.
Her clothing, it drapes her. All plaid-shod is she.
Picklin' an egg, thereafter to suck it,
She picks at her leg-hair contemplatively.
She can't get that preachin', that circuit-man's preachin'
'Bout hell-fire's hot brimrocks and heaven's hard road,
'Bout Lucifer's badness and sweet Jesus' teachin'
To leave her in peace; it's a right heavy load!
"CLUCK!" squacks an old hen, breakin' off her soul-ticklin',
And pecks her right where her left shoe should have been.
She kicks off the chicken, gets back to her picklin',
And never thinks 'bout that old preacher again.

And so a poem it is.

thanksgiving, not just for americans

I live in a house with 24 American students, and at The Vines there are about 40 american students who also belong to my program. So of course there was Thanksgiving. The vines is much larger than Crick so everyone went there for dinner. At 3 Dr. Baigent's (head tutor in program) children played music for us, as did Simon (dir. of student affairs) and his wife.

There were lots of families there. Simon has two children, and my tutor for English Lit, Dr. Lawes, and his wife came over. They have a 5 year old daughter who likes to sit next to cute college boys, smile and twirl her hair. Stan Rosenburg (another tutor/director of the program) brought his family over as well. Of course for all these people Thanksgiving means nothing, it was just an opportunity to hang out and eat really good food. Which we did.

The meal was incredible and everyone contributed different pieces of it. After dinner there was an open mic night, which was super fun. We came back to Crick around 9 and watched Love Actually with the Christmas lights on, after all Christmas season started here on November 6.

the shakespeare man..again.

Last Tuesday Amanda and I, and laurel too, attended the Oxford Wells Shakespeare lecture again. This time there was a reception afterward, at the Oxford University Press shop on High Street. We got there and quickly the room began to fill with people. Soon we were standing around talking to our lecturers, authors and respected academics in Oxford.

Stanley Wells was also there, the event being in honor of him. He looked a bit tired but was buzzing around talking to everyone. He came over to Amanda and I, and asked us where we were from and what we are studying. He was witty, and so cute. I am really excited that I got to meet him. :)

I felt like an adult, standing there joking with people. It was fun to talk and listen to a few speeches and eat peanuts. My Shakespeare tutor was really excited when I told him about it. Stanley Wells was really excited when he heard Amanda and I had gone to every lecture.

the sleeping house

Its rainy outside, windy too. This sunday the sky in cloudy and dim.

I didnt go to church this morning. I do that sometimes, so I can stay home and read. I read and then went grocery shopping, then came back and have been reading some more.

But I want to tell you about the room I am sitting in. Its warm, and I have my quilt over me. To my left Danielle is sleeping, and Christye is sleeping on the other side of her. Tim is in the chair next to the window, also asleep. There are Christmas lights in the window, and it smells like coffee in our house. To my right Josh is asleep on the couch and next to him Andrew is trying to work on a paper but he may as well give up and lay his head back. Directly across from me Kristin is asleep under her jacket.

Tea is in about an hour, which I think will be quiet today.

Its 8th week in Oxford, and were all really tired.

the shakespeare man

To honor Stanley Wells, who is the man, Oxford University Press and Oxford University are starting a new lecture series. They call it the Oxford Wells Shakespeare Lecture. This is the first annual lecture and I feel so privilaged to be able to attend.

Let me describe to you the first night,

I walk into the English Faculty Library, to the lecture theatre, about 10 minutes early. I sit down and pull out a book (because when am I not reading?) and as Im sitting there I watch the room quickly fill up and start to buzz with academic excitement. Then a man walks in, hes older, wearing a suit with a purple vest, white hair, and has no help walking down the stairs. Hes smiling and kissing all the people in the front rows on the cheeks. I see him and think "there he is, I dont even know who he is but he looks like a man who deserves reverence". I was right. The man I was watching has been general editor of the Oxford Shakespeare series since 1978 and edited the Oxford Complete Works of Shakespeare. He, Stanley Wells, turned 80 last week.

The lecture is on Religion in Shakespeare, and the lecturer is David Kastan. Who is hilarious. Sitting in the front row of the lecture hall was every scholar lecturing on Shakespeare this term, numorous authors and critics of Shakespeare and the editors of the Oxford Shakespeare series.

Then there was Amanda and I, giddy with excitement four rows back. This week there is a reception and we are definately going. I am excited for when Kastan's book comes out and on the title page will say "Compiled from the lectures of David Kastan given for the Oxford Wells Lecture Series", and I was there.

the poetry corner

Tonight I had to go to Blackwell's and buy John Milton. I was in the poetry corner and so was my Shakespeare tutor Jonathan Thorpe. So we talked a bit about my winter reading and the wonderful Shakespeare lecture Ive been going to with Amanda. Then recommended me a poet, Bernard O'Donoghue, because he had O'Donoghue as a tutor when he was doing his undergrad work at Oxford. He said it was wonderful and that I should look at it sometime. Then we talked a bit more and I found my Milton and we said goodbye. Before I left I picked up a copy of O'Donoghue's selected poems and decided to buy it when I noticed the afformentioned copy was signed by the author. I also noticed on the way home that my poetry lecturer, Tom Paulin, has a review on the inside cover of the book. All the way home I had my nose in it, reading poem after poem. It was the shortest walk home I've ever had.

sometimes i forget

Often I find myself so used to this place I forget it isn't normal that I am here. I live with 24 other Americans so it isn't hard. I forget that I'm not at home, that I'm living in a foreign country and that I'll be leaving soon.

And then as I walk down Broad street I look up and see a huge British flag being blown in the wind. A British man knocks on my door and asks if my radiator is broken (which it is) and he uses words like nappy, rubbish, and says "I'll see if I can sort it out for ya" but doesn't actually say any of the "t" sounds in that phrase. I am realizing more and more that the time is going faster and that I have begun to feel at home here. Sometimes it results in taking the little things for granted. I don't really like that.

fifth week blues

Aparently there is something about fifth week at Oxford that gets everyone sorta down, or maybe we all get burnt out. All week long people were asking about fifth week blues. I can honestly say by Friday last week I was feelin something. Tired, burnt out and a little homesick for the people I love.





But today, was such a good day. I went to a Shakespeare lecture this morning, on Hamlet. I ate lunch (peanut butter sandwich). Then I went to the Lower Cam. (see below) and read from 2 until 5, then switched to the Duke Humfrey's library and read until 730.

The Duke Humfrey's library. Its a little like Narnia in there. Most of those books are from the 16th and 17th century.

I got home, after accomplishing a tun at the Bodley, I ate a spactacular dinner and got online for a bit. Guess who I found? Noah was online and I got to talk to him for a while, which is always wonderful and today it was so good for my heart. Then Cristina called, how could this day get any better? We talked and giggled for a while and it was SO good. After talking to my parents this weekend, and then these two today, I am completely over fifth week blues, and moving into sixth week craziness ready to go.

to give you a visual

This is my favorite reading room, the Radcliffe Camera, part of the Bodleian Library. I'll try to get some pics of the inside eventually (definately not allowed, but you know me) The Upper Cam, is wonderful. When you walk in its a huge dome, two or three stories tall, with huge open windows that let tuns of light in. Sitting next to the windows you get the best views of the city. The ceilings are decorated with enormous floral patterns in a sky blue color. I get destracted by the beauty when I read up there.
This is Hollywell street. This is the street I take to get to the English Faculty Library from the Bodleian. Dad, up the street on the left is the BEST sandwich shop in Oxford. They have huge paninis, (my fav is the chicken pesto tomato and motzerella) and they are HOT, and taste so good on a cold day.
This is the inner courtyard of the Bodley, the bottom floor is the lower reading room, the first floor is the Duke Humpfrey's Library (where the books are so old you aren't allowed to touch them. Inside looks like something out of a movie. And the Upper reading room is on the second floor, which, though it has incredible views it often smells like academics who don't shower. Yuck.
This is the main entrance to the Old Bodleian, the inner courtyard and camera (as seen above) are located directly behind it. Behind where I am standing taking this picture is my favorite bookstore, Blackwell's. (The one I was telling you about tonight Dad)
This is a gate to one of the colleges that I walk by everyday to get to town.
Broad street at sunset...so wonderful.

This is Crick Road...my home. :) I took this about a week ago, so the leaves on the trees aren't really there anymore. But we live in the red brick one, on the right hand side. ( in this pic the left side of the red brick has its drapes closed, we dont live there, a rich south african man does) I love were I live, my room is the window at the very top of the house.

Hope this helps give you a good idea of the beauty...the more I try to capture it in words and on film the more I realize those things fail me, its indescribable.

connection to the past

I asked Jonathan my junior dean, the british one who knows everything in 7 different languages, about Erasmus today. Erasmus is contemporary of More, who Im currently reading and he said that Erasmus lived, while he studied in Oxford, at Frewin Court. Frewin Court as in the place you send mail to me, the place with the red door that I have a key to. Very cool.

tutorials

Its the end of 5th week and I had two tutorials this time, one on Wednesday night, like always and one today at 3. I think one of my favorite things in Oxford are the tutors.

In my early english/renaissance lit tutorial I was reading John Webster (a revenge tragedist, contemporary of Shakespeare) this week, and I also read The Spanish Tragedy by Thomas Kyd to include it into my essay. Hmm..revenge tragedy. I don't think I like the body count at the end of the plays, it seems like a little to much for me, but I do understand why they did it. We talked about religious skepticism and moral relativism in The Duchess of Malfi and The White Devil and compared it to other plays in that time, like Hamlet. We also talked about the characters and the authors and good stuff like that. We giggled for a while about how english majors are always having dialogue in the margins of the english faculty books and on the bathroom walls. :) It was probably the best tutorial I've had yet.

Then my Shakespeare tutorial was this afternoon and that went really well. My question this week was, "In A Mid Summer Nights Dream and Twelfth Night how much fun can be had watching someone be made a fool?". I read my essay and we, for some reason, started talking about Feste and wondered why he would have been present in an elizabethan court and not today. Why dont we have people like that? How is "courtly" life different now? How are governments different now? How are governments responsibilities different now? Then we got back on topic and discussed Shakespeare and how he has this weird understanding of cruel comedy. As well as love and violence. Why do we laugh when others look like fools? What causes laughter? How does Shakespeare employ those things in his comedies?

I will let you think about those things for yourself.

I told Jonathan Thorpe, my Shakespeare tutor, that I want to read all of Shakespeare over Christmas. He told me he would work on some questions and an order I should read the plays in for next time, and that I should be emailing him as I read over break. :)

Tomorrow I start on Sir Thomas Moore and As You Like It.

so much better than wycliffe

Reasons Why I Love Foodgroups:

1. The nights I don't have to cook dinner.
2. Christy is the most amazing chef.
3. TJ is my cooking partner, and he chops vegetables perfectly.
4. Tim makes the best soup.
5. I get full.
6. The kitchen smells good as we make the feast.
7. When I don't cook I don't do dishes.
8. TJ makes good coffee.
9. There are enchiladas.
10. It all tastes so good.
11. Friday is soup night.

Right now I am in the middle of a paper, sortof anticipating someone to walk up the stairs and tell me that dinner is ready. Im so hungry and its hard to write. Why did I eat lunch at 12? I am in some serious need of some cheese or yogurt (what snack was all summer) :). Oh....wait....I think I hear Amanda in the stairwell....sweet bliss.

no coffee before bed

I had the weirdest dream about Caleb and Rebecca the other night. We were at a river, swimming. It wasnt the one in El Salvador, which is weird cause thats the only river Ive ever been to with them. It was a very steep river, also strange cause normally rivers are rather flat. Anyway, we were swimming and then all of a sudden the water drained out of it completely. So we were standing there confused and then it started to rise again. We kept swimming, and then not swimming while the water did this over and over again. Then once Caleb was out in the middle when the water started to rise, I screamed and ran out and caught him...he was giggling and I was pissed (which happens with Caleb sometimes...) :) Then I woke up, but it was still night so I went back to sleep. Weird.

sunday

This morning our breakfast conversation had to do with linguistic social differences between the upper and lower class. Apparently, lower class people say "what?" instead of "pardon?" and couch instead of sofa. Upper class people, the posh, put milk and sugar into their tea cups first (because good porcelain breaks if it heats up to quickly) and the lower class people add it after their tea. Also, as our wonderful Junior Dean informed us, (as a posh british man he should know) one should refer to a delightful tea buscuit as a scone, with a short O sound, like on.

Our breakfast conversations are often like this, lunch is reserved for what we are reading and discussion of the lectures we have attended that day, and dinner is mostly politics, economics, religion and st. augustine, post-colonialism, and sarcastic banter.

But right now I am in my room, reading. This week its Revenge Tragedy of the Thomas Kyd and John Webster kind. Plus 5 or 6 secondary sources. Its sunny outside, or at least it was 5 minutes ago, and I can hear the churchbells from St. Giles echoing through Oxfordshire (pronounced Oxfordsher). There will be tea later this afternoon but until then, I will read.

scrumping* anyone?

A few weeks ago, standing around in Simon's office, a few of us learned a new word. Like good Oxford students we decided to engage our education, embrace this word as our predecessors did from 1866 onwards, and put it into its God given use, as a verb.

*(According to the Oxford English Dictionary, or OED) trans. To steal (apples), esp. from orchards. Also transf. and absol.

At 23 hundred hours there was a small gathering in the entryway, those gathered conspicuously wearing dark shades of black and blue. I quickly jumped in on the action (you know me :) ) and headed out our blue door into the dark, cold night. Lizzie was our leader, she devised the plan, and saw that it was carried out (she was also the one with the backpack). After a few distractions were made, and Tim checked that there were no cars in the driveway, Lizzie and I were hoisted over the Oxford-style brick wall. We dashed across the dimly lit courtyard to the dark corner where the ominous, ivy wrapped tree stood waiting.

We climbed the tree and began to realize just how wonderful, how big and how delicious these apples were. Quickly we filled Lizzie's backpack and dashed back across the yard and over the wall. Upon returning to Crick we unloaded the bounty, manna from heaven, only to lay eyes on the biggest red apples we had ever seen.

Scene: Lizzie, Ashley, Abbey, Elizabeth and TJ in the Crick kitchen, excited and enjoying afformentioned apples. Dressed in black, talking loudly.

(Enter Rob)
Lizzie: Hey Rob, we just stole these apples, do you want one? (She hands him the apple)
Rob: (Wide eyed, excitement growing) Yes I do! (He grabs the red apple and takes a bite)
Lizzie: Oh my gosh does anyone see what just happened?
Rob: (Horrified look on his face IMMIDIATELY spits the apple out and throws it into the trash)
Abbey: Adam! See! You think you would have learned the first time! BUT NO! Everytime! Ev-ry-time!
Rob: I like how you said, "we stole these apples" and then I willingly took it.
TJ: See! This is proof that we were dupped in the beginning, completely unaware. No wonder Adam blamed it on Eve.

There will be carmel apple scones in the morning. :)

ya its gunna be, alright! -beatles

This week my tutor (mr. superhero man) forgot to send me my reading list and question until Monday. He had sort of a stressful week so I kinda understand. It was a little frustrating however.

Monday night I got an email, telling me that having my essay done on Wednesday for the tutorial would be best however if I needed longer that would be okay. So Tuesday I read secondary sources and critics like crazy, and yesterday I spent all day putting together a working outline, building a thesis and making my argument to support it. I got pretty excited about my essay and went to my tutorial expecting to come home, write it and email it in Thursday.

Tuesday evening I took my stack of books to Green's (see post below) and I sat down upstairs. There was a girl sitting behind me on the phone. Talking to her parents about how she was sorta having a hard time and she was stressed. Then I heard her say "I don't know why they sent it to Azusa, they know I'm here". My ears perked up. Heart starts racing. (well..almost) At any rate I got excited and waited for her to get off the phone.

Now, those of you who know me, know that I am probably not the first person to turn around in a coffee shop and talk to a perfect stranger. My sister on the other hand, is. But I could not let this pass. So I turned around and asked her where she was from. "Well, California, but I go to Azusa Pacific University?" She had a look on her face like she thought I would have never heard of it. :)

"OH my gosh! My sister goes to APU! So COOL!"
"Really? woah this is weird"

So from then we spent 2 hours talking about ourselves, where we live, our schools, our friends, oxford and the stuff we've been doing. Heres the problem, that two hours was supposed to be me frantically studying, taking notes and working on my essay. The whole time I was feeling pressed because I had so much to get done. I invited her over for dinner and Guy Fawkes celebrations. So last night she came and ate pasta with us. (I had completed my working outline before she got here) We ate and then she walked me down to my tutorial. (Oh, and her parents live in Dubai, near Jordan's parents, so at dinner they got all excited and started talking about hanging out over Christmas)

On our walk she told me how she had been praying for some good friends, especially a connection in Dubai because when she goes there she doesn't know anyone. She was so excited to have met everyone in the house and we had totally blessed her by having her over.

Then I got to my tutorial, sorta worried about writing my essay. And Dr. Lawes said "I am so sorry for not sending you your questions. However there is nothing that says you absolutely have to write 8 essays, so would you be completely heartbroken if you didnt write one this week?"

:)

Remember, remember, the 5th of November
The Gunpowder Treason and plot ;
I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,'Twas his intent.
To blow up the King and Parliament.
Three score barrels of powder below.
Poor old England to overthrow.
By God's providence he was catch'd,
With a dark lantern and burning match
Holloa boys, Holloa boys,
let the bells ring
Holloa boys, Holloa boys,
God save the King!

Today is Guy Fawkes day in England! One of those random holidays thats on the calandar, but you dont know exactly what it is. Partly its a bunch of monarchists who celebrate the fact that Mr. Fawkes failed his attempt to kill the king, and mostly its an excuse for the rest of the country to set off tuns of fireworks, in backyards, parks and on the streets. And it is traditional to make a Guy Fawkes doll and burn him on the street in effigy.

So currently I'm sitting in the kitchen, watching tuns of fireworks going off outside, and it is predicted that it will continue through most of the night. Wait...I think the neighbors just shot one into our yard. :)

poetry lecture

We read this poem today, the tutor for this lecture is Irish, so do your best with the accent :)

All Legendary Obstacles

All legendary obstacles lay between
Us, the long imaginary plain,
The monstrous ruck of mountains
And, swinging across the night,
Flooding the Sacramento, San Joaquin,
The hissing drift of winter rain.

All day I waited, shifting
Nervously from station to bar
As I saw another train sail
By, the San Francisco Chief or
Golden Gate, water dripping
From great flanged wheels.

At midnight you came, pale
Above the negro porter's lamp.
I was too blind with rain
And doubt to speak, but
Reached from the platform
Until our chilled hands met.

You had been travelling for days
With an old lady, who marked
A neat circle on the glass
With her glove, to watch us
Move into the wet darkness
Kissing, still unable to speak.

John Montague
Beautiful huh?

Its rainy today, and Im writing a paper about George Herbert, a minor english poet (which is fitting) who writes about God mostly, and the church. My question is "Is Herbert's poetry more like prayer than art, and therefore better read by his fellow believers? Discuss.

My rough thesis, I emphasise rough : George Herbert's poems are closer to prayer than art, because though they contain qualities of artistic expression his poems embody religious themes and enable the reader to meditate more closely on God.

:)

sounds in oxford

footsteps on the gravel outside the Bodley
creeky bikes that ride by
church bells
creeky floor in the Lower Camera
computers clicking late at night
Crick's doorbell
the teapot boiling
wind in the trees on a walk through the park
humm of inteligent conversation
footsteps down Hollywell lane
Christye's guitar in the stairwell
bagpipes down cornmarket street
quiet stillness in the Duke Humpfrey's library


I noticed sounds today..

cause now i pay attention to the news

-Councils ban use of Latin terms-

"A number of local councils in Britain have banned their staff from using Latin words, because they say they might confuse people.

Several local authorities have ruled that phrases like "vice versa", "pro rata", and even "via" should not be used, in speech or in writing.

But the ban has prompted anger among some Latin scholars.
Professor Mary Beard of Cambridge University said it was the linguistic equivalent of ethnic cleansing. "

love it. Thanks BBC

surprise in my pigeonhole*

So a few nights ago I was hanging out with my good friends Danny and Jonathan. It got dark (around 430) and they walked me home. On the way we decided to stop by Frewin to get Danny's bike and check our mail. I wasn't expecting anything but I tagged along anyway. I literally was jumping up and down when I realized that in fact I did have something and it was the best kind of something to get.

An English prof, from Vanguard, who recently moved to North Carolina sent me the most beautiful scarf (handmade of course) and a letter. She was my prof for Am. Lit and World Lit, and was a great influence in the creation of the blog you are currently reading.

Walter-Carney, thank you so much! I immediately put it on, seeing as it was freezing outside, and have been wearing it since. I also got home and showed everyone in my house. It is beautiful, thank you!





*Pi"geon*hole`\, n. A small compartment in a desk or case for the keeping of letters, documents, etc.

waiting for cookies

So I'm laying on the couch, reading A Mid Summer Nights Dream, and TJ is sitting next to me playing the guitar. Suddenly he looks at me and says

TJ. You should bake something.
Me. (giggling) Oh you think so?
TJ. Ya, you should bake oatmeal cookies.
Me.(more giggling upon realization that hes serious)
Well, I dont have any oatmeal.
TJ. I do.
Me. I dont have any flour.
TJ. I do.
Me. I dont have any eggs..
TJ. I have those too.
Me. (trying to think of something else he hopefully does not have)
Brown sugar?
TJ. Yep.
Me. I have vanilla, and theres baking soda in the cupboard...
TJ. Why aren't you making these yet?
Me. (more giggling) Ok, let me finish this act..

Long story short, we just made the most amazing oatmeal cookies (Thanks to Quaker, or as TJ said, "These Quakers are amazing!") And of course everyone can smell them...so everyone came in and partook of the abundant amazingness. Now I'm back on the couch. Its cold outside, and really warm in here. And Shakespeare is a genius.