New and Old

I got a haircut this week (I know: 'What hair?!?' you're saying. 'She has NO HAIR to cut!') but I don't have any pictures - just trust me when I say it's now more 80's punk than PTA Mom, which is a huge relief. (Also, no matter how much - or little - hair I have, it always amazes me how much is on the floor at the end of the appointment. I think my hair may be coming in thicker now since it was all cut off. No complaints.)

What I do have pictures of is spring in the UK, which in Canterbury and London looks something like this (these are from the London Temple grounds):


You can see even more beds of white and yellow daffodils in the background... 

There are beds of daffodils EVERYWHERE. In parks, along streets, growing right up to Roman walls... it seems like once they've bloomed, the plants are just mowed down and incorporated into the lawns, and the bulbs reproduce or something to create even more flowers next year. It's pretty amazing, actually.



Ev. Ry. Where.


The weather was gorgeous (if a little chilly) for Conference weekend, and since I was staying at the Temple accommodations I was able to go out and walk in the sunshine between sessions. It was the perfect cap to a fantastic Conference! (If you're not sure what I'm talking about - 'LDS General Conference' - or you missed a session or want to find that talk everyone's raving about, check it out here.)

Monday morning I headed in to London to get that haircut (LOVE!); and then to kill time until the show I was seeing that evening headed over to the British Museum. I'll be back. The place was mobbed with both school groups and half-term vacationers - this place is so cool that students come even when it's NOT a field trip.


Imposing. Impressive. The British know how to do 'Epic' correctly.



First stop - the Assyrians. I'm a sucker for winged, human-headed hatted-and-bearded beasties.
(Didn't you know?)

 

I actually took this picture for my neice - she's got a thing for horses and apparently,
so did the ancient Assyrians. The detail is just gorgeous.



Okay, so I sort of did get a picture of my new haircut - but I didn't MEAN for it to look like
I was also wearing a stone turban. That was just lucky.

I really wanted to round up four strangers to see if I could get them to imitate the poses...

Awww... an ancient Egyptian valentine. Sweet.

This is the fake Rosetta Stone, the one you can (as the sign below it encourages) touch. The real one is sealed behind glass and a mob of tourists. I'm actually nerdy enough to be a little star-struck that I was in the same building as the Rosetta Stone. Yep.

Someday this shot will look exactly like a corner of MY library. I FEEL IT.

The inner court is pretty amazing - under the curving glass ceiling near the entrance there's an installation of 49 steel cubes covered with Islamic prayers. 

I hear you, Lord Alfred. Preach.

They've put the Canadian totem poles in one corner near the food court. As you do.

 

Seriously. Just amazing.

 

Also amazing? The banoffee gelato sundae I had at Rendezvous in Leceister Square before heading to the Royal Haymarket Theatre to see 'One Man, Two Guvnors'.
(Notes: 'Banoffee' = bananas and toffee, normally on a cookie-crumb - biscuit -
crust and with a cream filling. Oh, yeah.
Also, how much do you love that there was actually a 'Royal' haymarket?)


I definitely plan to spend more time at the British Museum (and in the British Museum gift shops - I could bring home my own Rosetta Stone!!!). Still so much to see! London, you and I are friends again!


*

Sunday(s) Snippets

Last weekend I went to Cardiff, Wales, to visit a friend and hang out for Bonfire Night (that whole 'Guy Fawkes' thing). I have video clips of the fireworks, which were amazing, and we toured around and checked out castles, which I loved.

Church on Sunday, though, was a trip - I didn't know exactly which building the meeting was in, and there wasn't a sign... but just as I got out of the car I spotted the missionaries walking down the street. All I had to do was follow them to get to the right place! (Yes. It's also a metaphor. Good job.) The ward met in a trade school that was a lovely old converted Georgian building - Sacrament Meeting was in a beautiful hall with massive lead-paned windows and blue-and-white paneling. (It was freezing.) It's true what they say - the Welsh really do have marvelous singing voices! Even when they don't have a pianist, which they didn't when the meeting started... there was a general call for volunteers to play, and I gave in and went up to play for the Sacrament hymn. I was terrible, but the volume was down so low on the electric keyboard I don't think anyone could really hear me anyway.

It was a very nice and a very interesting testimony meeting; one of the windows was cracked open (probably at least part of the reason it was cold) and it evidently couldn't be shut because it was too high up and a tree branch had started growing through the opening. A few minutes after the testimonies started a hummingbird climbed in through the open window and then spent the rest of the meeting trying to find it's way back out - we were trying to listen, but in reality the entire congregation was fascinated watching this bird fly from window to window to try to get through the clear glass. A ward member finally walked around the room and opened all the windows he could reach, and the bird crept out - you could practically feel the collective sigh of relief!

I do like a good portcullis.

That afternoon my friend and I visited Cardiff Castle (which is beautifully overdecorated) and then went to the Millenium Centre for a singalong of 'The Messiah'. I was pretty excited about it, actually - how often can you say you sang the Messiah with a Welsh choir? Not often, that's for sure. (Unless you live in Wales and do this kind of thing a lot.) Anyway, the orchestra was on the stage, the choir (who had all paid 15 or so pounds - for charity - to sing) filled up the entire stalls section, and the audience (including me) were in the first balcony. I could just see the bass section and a few of the tenors. The soloists actually stood in the boxes to either side of the stage, which was a pretty nice staging idea. The whole thing was lovely, and at the end the conductor invited the audience to stand again and sing along as they reprised the Hallelujah Chorus. Guess I wasn't the only audience member that wanted to say they'd sung with a Welsh choir!

* * * * *

I'm starting to be afraid that I really have 'graduated' from playing the piano badly for the Primary to playing badly for the entire ward - I've been stumbling along in Relief Society, and then today the Sacrament pianist didn't show up so I was drafted. The Sacrament hymn started off so, so awfully... and the chorister still had the congregation sing through the extra two verses anyway! On the plus side, by the time we got through that last verse my playing actually sounded OK; and, at least it wasn't 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.' (Listen to your mother. PRACTICE THE PIANO.)

I had actually prepared to teach the 12-16-yr-olds in Sunday School for the first time - the Sunday School President hadn't known what lesson they were on, so I counted back from the end of the year and guessed. I found out upon arrival that they'd had that lesson the week before. Oy. I thought I'd be reprieved when I heard I only had one student, a teenage boy - I figured it'd be less awkward for everyone if we just went in with the adults instead, only to find that the adult Gospel Doctrine teacher hadn't shown up and the bishopbric wondered if I would mind teaching the lesson. I stood up and 'facilitated' the lesson I hadn't prepared (gotta stick to that schedule!) and it was terrific - it's amazing how fun that kind of thing can be when the whole group is pulling together! (Seriously, teachers should remember to put a little more responsibility on the class members, instead of trying to feed them information. They've got some really great stuff.)

In fact, my favorite thing of the day came when we were discussing 1 Peter 2:8 and talking about how we can be 'living stones' (it's such a great picture - are stones tempted by the vices of the world? I think not) and yet not be a stumbling stone for someone else... and a class member raised the idea that perhaps we SHOULD be 'stumbling stones of offence' for other people - that we could be so determined to be righteous and to build the kingdom that we help to create a 'stumbling stone' that the world cannot help but to stop and look at, that interrupts them in their daily pursuits and makes them acknowledge that there is something greater. The same class member later reminded us about D&C 122:9, part of the section on extreme affliction, and how the Lord is always with us. SUCH a great time in Sunday School today.

And I'm more determined than ever to practice the piano regularly.

Sunrise over Cardiff Lake and Cardiff Bay. Yes, it really was sunrise. Yes, I really was there and awake. Shut up.

Bring it on Back

1 Conference, 8 shows, 3 movies (HP 7.2 twice!), 1 awesome lunch date with Phaidra, 2 iPads, and 1 evening hanging out with family (including hilarious nephews and a brand-new niece) I am back in London and buckling down. Following is a list of people I really want to see the next time I take a "working holiday":

(In no particular order)

Christopher

Karen

Tara

Lauren

Mallorie

Sara

Ricky

Stephanie
The GNO girls

Kacey

Michelle

Phaidra

My parents

Siblings and their spouses

Niece and nephews (and nieces and nephews)

My dentist

I'm thinking Christmas break. (This is not necessarily a complete list - it's just the ones I've been thinking about recently that my sleep-deprived brain can remember.)

Trip stories (and pictures!) to follow - is it weird that the first thing I do when I get back to my computer is blog?

Hello, London.

Official Tourist

Here it is, folks!  The One With Pictures of a Too-Touristy To Live London Location!

THE TOWER OF LONDON.

I was here a few years ago, with a family group of 11. We didn't have the chance for the guided tour, so I made sure to sign up this time around. This was our Beefeater - a.k.a., Yeoman Warder, a.k.a., Ceremonial (though real) Guardian of the Tower. He'd been in the military long enough to qualify for this job, and apparently also thought he was a stand-up comedian.  We'll call him a "character" and leave it at that.  This is Traitor's Gate, the water-gate where supplies were brought in and prisoners transported through before trial/execution.  As we were neither supplies nor prisoners, we didn't actually get to go through.

 This is the building where the Crown Jewels are kept - I didn't know those people, but they didn't move out of the shot and I figured they looked British and/or touristy enough to keep.

A Tower raven - six are kept on the grounds at all times, since a prediction back in the 1600's said that if the ravens ever left the Tower, the Monarchy would fall.  One of the kings made it law to keep ravens around - not that he was superstitious or anything, JUST IN CASE.

Actors (not wax figures) in the re-creation of the Medieval Palace.  Middle Ages hair probably didn't look much better.

I seem to be a little obsessed with taking pictures of Tower (of London) Bridge.  It IS just on the other side of the wall, so I thought it made a cool shot.  Sue me.

The White Tower - the original and actual "Tower" of the Tower of London.  Built by William the Conquerer, it was designed to control the river, re-define the city skyline, and provide a place for massive parties.  Basically your kingly version of a midlife crisis symbol.

One of the thirteen towers built into the first wall around the complex. (There's a second, which also had a moat, though that was filled in in relatively recently when the then-Queen realized that the overflow from the Thames turned one of her royal residences into an open sewer. Oops.)

Outside the Tower complex - the walls used to sit flush up against the waters of the Thames. (See what I did there?)

Here's a night picture of the Tower Bridge. I think it turned out pretty well.

Just to prove I was actually there, and didn't get the pictures from Google! (No Photoshopping, just a good angle and lots of practice taking blind pictures with my left hand.)

To round off the day, I had my first experience with fish 'n chips. And let me tell you, not only was it pretty (isn't it PRETTY?!?) it was also delicious. I'm guessing this is not actually typical of the genre. I'll definitely look for a street cart next time!

It was a great day - I had a tour guide, an audio guide, a drizzle, a downpour, gawked at the Crown Jewels (no photos allowed), and picked up a postcard of the Queen. Doesn't get much more touristy than that!

And...  it's crossed off the list.  Check!

Winter Onederland

It's snowing.

The good kind of snow is falling; the fat, puffy flakes that land intermittently with no breeze and almost-warm air between them for visibility. It's snowing at just the right time, too - on the short walk home from the train station after successfully making the trip from downtown. The streets are so slick two girls (women? early twenties, by my guess) are pulling each other up and down the road on an old-fashioned, tall-runnered sled. All it needed was a Shetland pony and some jingle bells. Fortunately, no one clears the sidewalks so there is enough fluffy powder to allow for some traction. It's lovely, truly, the kind of snowfall you actually want to be out strolling through and rarely ever see. it's the epitome of "white Christmas" snow.

I blame Charles Dickens.

My research packet for the play "A Christmas Carol" mentions boldly that Dickens is the man who saved Christmas - in reality, of course, he's only just the guy who gave us our long-standing visual perception of Christmas.

I suppose I should blame the volcano.

When Dickens was a child there was a volcanic eruption halfway around the world that disrupted weather patterns for years. One result was snow on Christmas or Christmas Eve in England four times (three?) before Chuck was 10 years old, though only twice in the next 50 years*. The correlation was set, and when in 1834 the intrepid author with financial difficulties and a large family to support churned out his little Christmas ghost story in a desperate attempt to stave off bankruptcy, he, possibly inadvertently, condensed the old 12 days' celebrations into one festive evening, cocooned in an atmosphere one historian deemed "coziness" and circumscribed by gently falling snow. The first Christmas card was sent a week after the book was published, and ever since we have been taught that the ideal holiday includes frozen precipitation and an idyllic "white Christmas".

Thanks a lot, CD - I hope you're happy.

Friends are stranded in airports and stuck in cities and train stations all over Europe thanks to the snow. London is woefully unprepared to deal with the weather, despite this being the third year running with storms and dropping temperatures over the holiday. I blame the radio stations - If they'd just stop playing "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" maybe the Universe wouldn't be listening so closely, you know? I suppose it's not really Charles Dickens' fault, though I have to wonder if it would have killed him to set his story in some lovely tropical locale instead.

Overheard: "I'm so excited for the snow! It might be a white Christmas this year!"

"Just like the last two... It'll sure make it hard for people to get out and visit family if it keeps snowing, since they don't clear the roads."

"Well, OK, but at least it'll be pretty!"

Sure. My five-minute walk from the station was certainly pretty. And now that I've had it, I fervently wish that the snow will stop falling, melt, and let everyone out so they can be with friends and family on Christmas. That's my kind of winter wonderland!

In the end, I suppose blame will have to lie with the volcano. Thanks a lot, Eyjafjallajokull**. Only four (or so) more Christmases like this to go... Next time, put a cork in it, wouldja?

* These particular facts may or may not be completely accurate.

** I owe you an umlaut***.

*** And another one.

How Not to Move Out of the Country

1) Apply to a school in a foreign country (or, England). Accidentally apply to the wrong program, interview anyway. When they accept you for the wrong program, politely turn them down and apply to a different school. When the second school accepts you, ignore as much of the paperwork and email information as you possibly can. Decide not to look for housing until you arrive in the country. Three weeks before you leave, decide to finally read the schedules they have sent, and realize that they have you enrolled in the wrong program. Contact the local bishop and the accomodations office, and discover there is NO AVAILABLE HOUSING IN THE ENTIRE TOWN. Decide not to attend the second school after all (losing your deposit AND your overseas plane ticket) since it wasn't actually exactly the right program anyway. Re-apply for the following year to the original school, since you're fairly sure they have the right program for you. Make sure you have been telling people for months previously that you were leaving the country, so you can spend the next year hearing "Oh, she's moving to England - FOR REAL this time!"
2) Once accepted into your program, procrastinate dealing with all that "student loan" stuff.
3) Put off looking for housing until two months before you leave, since "no one will know when they're moving yet anyway" and "students will be moving out the same time you get there, so it should be easy" and "the senior missionaries told me not to rent anything until I get there".
4) Feel comforted by the fact that someone in England was impressed that you were looking for housing "so early" and go back to procrastinating.
5) Avoid opening any correspondence from your school or carefully reading any email. There will be time for that next week.
6) Hear a rumor that student aid and visa applications will be changing just a few months before you leave, and wait to look into it until "things have settled".
7) Wait until the last minute to book your flight, and then "work the system" by buying two separate, cheaper flights. Those 12 hours sitting on the floor of the JFK airport after the red-eye flight will be totally worth it.
8) Go into a panic a month and a half before your flight leaves, and read all your paperwork and emails. Decide that it is now too late to apply for your student visa and nonchalantly figure that you can take care of it once you arrive.
9) Make some tentative housing enquiries, but be reassured that the right place will fall into your lap once you arrive. You wanted to experience local B&B's for a couple of days, anyway.
10) Find out after you have hauled yourself to the new country that no, you may not apply for a student visa now that you are here NO EXCEPTIONS NO ADJUSTMENTS DO NOT PASS GO (LITERALLY). Schedule a flight back to New York, since it's closer and a shorter flight and you can apply for the visa from there.
11) Don't bother to check the calendar in case of holidays or get specific details of hours and policies from your visa-expediting company.
12) Spend a week in New York after the five-minute appointment for which you crossed the ocean, waiting for your visa to go into processing since you missed the Friday cutoff by two hours and Monday is a national holiday.
13) Change your return flight to London (having now spent probably double what you spent on your original "saver" flights) and pay the very large change fee.
14) Fly back with your visa and spend the next week trying to catch up on all the things you missed in the actual first week of the term.
15) Quickly discover that the school's program(me) is not anything like what you imagined from the course descriptions, interview, and website.
16) Stick it out anyway, and look into starting it all over again with a different school next year.
17) Find yourself a good therapist and financial advisor.
18) Blog.

Sunday Snippet

Today was Remembrance Sunday, always the Sunday after Nov. 11, and involved one more day of wearing the paper poppy and included two minutes of silence during Sacrament Meeting. I guess there were further ceremonies and public events around London, but I’ve been out of it with a cold and didn’t think to investigate further. It occurred to me that next year there will be a first and second 11:11 on 11/11/11. Should make a lot of computer programmers happy.

I visited the Hyde Park ward today – I’ve been attending in Peckham, but I wanted to try a ward further north up in London, both because I really want to move closer to my school and because I feel really out of sync with my ward. I loved the London ward, had some great moments that were a big help to me, and got a couple of numbers of people to call about possible housing. Perfect.

- There are not many things in this world that are cuter than Primary-aged children with British accents. And the one Sunbeam who bellowed “FOLLOW THE PROPHET!” completely off-key was awesome.

- In Sunday School we were in Jeremiah, and talked about internalizing the gospel, or “writing upon our hearts.” One sister talked about memorizing scriptures to have them there for instant access – her quote was “There is power in knowing from the back of your head.” The teacher made the point that there is a difference between writing on your mind and writing on your heart, and that we shouldn’t let the mechanics take precedence over an invitation to the Spirit. One sister gave a moving illustration by talking about her “perfect” family; they had scripture study and family prayer every day, FHE every week, regular and consistent temple attendance… and yet, her parents divorced (possibly in connection with some other family trauma involving two of her siblings) and the family fell apart in spite of their “crossing all the ‘t’s’ and dotting all the ‘i’s’.” She summed it up by saying that “zealousness is not righteousness” and that we are obedient so that the Lord may change our hearts as the truth of the gospel is written upon them. The teacher asked us to think about the words the brethren use in connection with the scriptures: study, feast, immerse – never “read”. If our time with the scriptures is changing us, than we’re using them correctly.

- Musical Moment: on the Underground, hearing “Everlasting Love” played on the accordion. Maybe not as elegant as it sounds. ;-)

Here's Your Sign

I documented my 14-hour drive today with lots of photos from my phone. Hey - at least I wasn't texting, right? Hopefully tomorrow I'll get them down/uploaded... believe me, the Green Goblin is worth waiting for!

On the drive I also saw some pretty... interesting... signs, and I'd like to recreate them for you here:

Burns, OR - a store that advertised "Antiques, Furniture, Appliances, Junque". Someday, I will own a store called "The Junque Shoppe."
- a billboard that read "Big Tobacco is full of spit. Don't take their spit. Quit." I'm not kidding. And I applaud their marketing person.

Sisters, OR - the road sign that said "Deer - Next 1 Mile". I have to wonder, how do they enforce that? Is there Deer Police or something? "Look, punk, you can graze between mile marker 738 and 737. DON'T PUSH ME."
- "Scenic Byway Interpretive Area" - I was looking for emo musicians and performance arts dancers along the road for MILES. Nothing.

Pictures tomorrow!

Week In Review

26 hours driving a mini-van by oneself sounds like:

- Daughtry - Leave This Town
- Notre Dame de Paris (Euro Musical Cast)
- The Scarlet Pimpernel (Original Cast)
- Hairspray (Movie Soundtrack)
- Emerson Drive - What If?
- Brian Regan LIVE
- "All Star Christmas" Mix
- Aly & AJ - Into the Rush
- Kelly Clarkson - All I Ever Wanted
- Teen Witch: The Musical (Original Cast)
- Sky High (Movie Soundtrack)
- Dragonsong by Anne McCaffery (I am SO glad I figured out how to load that onto my Ipod Shuffle!)

* * * * *

Achievement Day for 9 - 11 yr. old girls. "Vinyl lettering on tile" is evidently the new tole painting. Pink vinyl is the worst, FYI.

* * * * *

It was a really great tent, made even greater by the fact that it came equipped with a basic queen-sized mattress for the visiting oldster, yours truly. Loved the star-gazing-friendly mesh window, having the sprinklers turned off and the train decide not to drive by in the middle of the night. This tent was not so great in the heating department. In the tent's defense, it wasn't SUPPOSED to get that cold that night...

PRO: Nobody wet their sleeping bag.
CON: The train did visit after all, at 6 AM. No walls to mute the rattle.

* * * * *

Why do I always start to feel sick when I visit Oregon? I'm not allergic to anything, I usually get in at least one day of exercise... Is it the sea level? Delayed travel lag? Crappy guest-room mattress? (Sorry, K. At least the food is always good!) Speaking of...

No one is ever to sick for:

Seriously. Could eat there every day. My sister actually has (well, three days in a row, anyhow).

Also, made the kids watch Hairspray this afternoon. They liked it, but my oldest nephew thought it was "weird".

* * * * *

In theory, I'm a fan of weddings. In practice, I'd just as soon not be there - thanks in large part to the tendency of elderly family members to do things like grabbing my left hand and loudly asking, "Aren't you married yet?!?", always in public settings and usually during a lull in other conversation. My cousin's wedding on Thursday was very nice - got held up for about 45 minutes since another cousin hadn't realized her temple recommend had expired and the temple workers were scrambling to find enough people to vouch for her and get her in. She was cleared, but had hied off to parts unknown. Her bishop speculated: "She's probably in a bar." Generally speaking, you don't often laugh that hard in a temple sealing room.

* * * * *

An excellent new series:


Silent in the Grave, Silent in the Sanctuary, and Silent on the Moor - all excellent Victorian-era mysteries with just a dash of romance thrown in. And I'm serious about that "dash" - ignore the covers, because these book are not in any way the Harlequin-esque "bodice rippers" they would appear to be. (Pity, that.) (Sort of kidding, there.)

* * * * *

As a rule, I don't like wedding receptions. I've been to a LOT of them, and at least half the time end up working in some capacity or other - cutting and serving cake, arranging decorations, cleaning up, etc... Also, I have an embarrasingly large collection of bouquets that I've caught in the bridal toss, in spite of my long-standing policy to hide in a closet during that activity. I was fully prepared to not like this reception either - I was working hard to get tables set and decorations up and fluffed, and had been asked to sit at the guest book and welcome people once things started. Bleh.

Even my reception gloom could not withstand the nuptial glow, however - my cousin and his new wife were so brilliantly happy you couldn't help but feel good when you were around them. She's absolutely darling, and the two of them are a wonderful match. The food was good, the people sitting at our table were friendly and funny, and the cheesecake production line I helped to organize was a work of art and marvel of efficiency. (My sister is REALLY good at that kind of thing. We were awesome.) Also, my parents got into a fight in the garage over the proper way to serve the dinner buffet, and my sister's retelling of the story is hilarious. We were able to duck out early on the excuse that I had to start a 13-hour drive at 5 AM the next day, so I missed the bouquet toss altogether. Score!

* * * * *

I managed to squeeze in a visit to one of my favorite places, Silver Falls State Park. I know. A place that highlights hiking is one that I love most. What can I say - I'm complex!


* * * * *

Thank goodness a former fellow employee put me onto her "iguana" or Guarana pills - the "natural stimulant" may in fact be cartloads of caffeine, but they got me and four coolers full of Oregon blueberries and raspberries home safely after 13 extremely boring hours on the road. I really don't remember anymore why I volunteered for that part. Complex... or just an idiot?

Don't answer that.

* * * * *

The dedication today was lovely.

I've got a lot to do if I want to visit all the temples in the area before I leave for England (which I do).

I've got even more to do if I want to leave for England!