Christmas week

Friday, 19 December: snowstorm and rehearsal dinner


I landed in Boston less than an hour before the snowstorm hit. Connecting flights were cancelled, and the drive from Boston to Connecticut was a scary snow-blind slalom using tail lights and rumble strips to point the car in the right direction.

As the snow fell, the wedding rehearsal was cancelled. The rehearsal dinner was re-located to a bunker in the hotel where the majority of the out-of-town guests were staying. In spite of all that, Mom was looking gorgeous - as you can see from this photo:


When we finally got to Tolland, we couldn't make it up Route 31 to the house. Ahead of us, wriggling frictionlessly against gravity like salmon swimming into a waterfall, were tens of cars blocking our path, sliding perilously close to us, each other, and the cars sliding in the opposite stream down the hill. Clint executed a heroic, Hollywood-worthy 2-point turn, and we made our way to the hotel for the rehearsal dinner. The groom was trapped on the West coast somewhere.

Saturday, 20 December: wedding

The groom arrived around midnight; the church filled up; Ben played Christmas carols on the piano; the happy couple were married. And the party moved to the Mill on the River, where the food could not have been more perfect. While Ben jockeyed the discs, I grabbed a dance with the flower girl.


Sunday - Monday, 21 - 22 December: family, friends and flights

So Megan and Michael left for Las Vegas, and the rest of us chilled out. I said goodbye to the new in-laws at church on Sunday morning. The snow started again, and Sunday school and the evening service were cancelled.

Over the next 254 hours I worked my way through my boxes in the attic, and set aside photographs and correspondence from my pre-England days to bring back with me (once I get hold of a scanner, I'll see about up-loading the most embarrassing of these).

Monday afternoon Papasan once again drove me to Boston (thanks!) and I met up for a beer at the airport with my old rowing coach and friend, Adam, and we reminisced about the good old days. Then I boarded a horribly uncomfortable flight back to the UK. If it weren't for my numbing addiction to Patrick O'Brian (which kept me plastered to my novel throughout), I don't think I could have managed to muster a trillionth of the equanimity with which I viewed American Airlines that day.

Tuesday, 23 December: work

Work was crazy. I came straight from the airport, and was told I had a long call with a client to go through a warranty schedule. I fell asleep as I was preparing for the call. Five other matters kicked off.

Wednesday, 24 December: work and Oxford

London was eerily quiet. The office was nearly empty. I left at 1 for an extended, boozy lunch with old college friends - one last steak before descending into the vegetarian orgy of Christmas with the Itens and Susie's family. After lunch I walked back to the flat and finished wrapping presents, hopped on a bus to Oxford, and marched to Wolfson. We decided to go to the midnight communion service at Christchurch Cathedral. Walking back at 1 a.m., the streets were full of other families coming home from church.

Thursday, 25 December: Christmas!

We opened presents in the morning. Special thanks to Jennie and Uncle Craig for the cds! And thanks to Mom, again, for the cushions and duvet and pillow covers! And of course thanks to the Itens for the goats. (Jaime: I think I understand why the goat on the left is wearing a hat in the photo - it's so I know who Mr Goat is, right?).

We went to Rani's for our Christmas dinner. Rani, Jaime's employer (and a brilliant brilliant chef), cooked up a feast. I would have been full even if she hadn't then plied me with 3 puddings. As it is, I left feeling like I'd been hit by two Thanksgivings in a row.


That evening we digested, reading books and watching a bit of Short Circuit. We Skyped/phoned Brad; Mom, Ben K, Julie and Annie; and Anne Marie, Mandy and Dad. Apologies to Jennie and Megan for not speaking to either of you!

Friday, 26 December: Boxing Day

I went back to London and met up with Susie for our own personal Christmas (Susie knitted me the most beautiful scarf!) before heading over to the Rosses to be spoiled with food, drink and gifts. After something like 6 years of asking, I finally got some Simpsons dvds.... Yay! The feast included Susie's delicious chestnut and mushroom pie, turkey and bacon (for me and Susie's dad), roasted potatoes, and I attempted to recreate Rani's salad from the day before (I'm a big believer in recreating dishes as soon as possible after first experiencing them, to keep the memory fresh). The mains were followed by pan d'oro and stollen.

And that's it for this long catch-up post.

Christmas list

Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up on the internet, but here's my Christmas list. I might add links later on down the road (no time right now), but thought it would be worth having the list up to start with:

• Jigsaw puzzles (Susie's now addicted)
• Gravy boat
• Warm but not ugly gloves (cashmere charcoal grey)
• Another NICE pot (medium size, stainless steel - Pro Clad, All Clad, or equivalent))
• Napkin rings
• Slippers (warm)
• Radio (small)
• Bathroom matt
• Simpsons dvds - but not the first 2 seasons, and no season after 2000, please (unless you know something I don't) (NOTE - I think Susie's mum is very likely to be getting me one or more seasons, so pick something random like season 7)
• Silver (c £400 a place setting)
• Rolling pin
• Street bicycle
• Two bike locks (one high-quality D-lock and one quality chain type lock) - quality really matters with bike locks (which is why I don't have a bike)
• The Indian Jones films (on DVD)
• Good recording on Tchaikovsky's violin concerto
• Good recording on Tchaikovsky's piano concerto
• Schumann & Dvorak chamber music (CD)
• Violin and viola duets (sheet music - not Mozart, Pleyel or Handel) - be original
• Viola sheet music - not J C Bach, J S Bach or Stamitz (try a bit of Hoffmeister, and other composers from the Baroque and Classical periods)
• Big memory stick/flash drive
• Towels (not white)
• New Britney cd
• Decembrists cds

For the Itens

To watch British terrestial tv online, just click on the play symbol after a television listing.

A few responses to Jaime's posts

A few belated thoughts.

On the question of wave energy, there have been tide mills in operation in London since Roman times. The Romans may not have been producing electricity, but it was wave energy put to good use. According to Wikipedia, the first excavated tide mill was in Strangford Lough, which isn't far from where Ben K's Julie comes from.

About your friend, Lauren. I had always thought this was cousin Lauren (nee Callahan). From something you said about being in sophomore year together, apparently not?

Evie is welcome to make contributions to the Found Fund when she is ready. For now, I think candy is a pretty good cause. But if I bring along some candy next time, perhaps the choice won't be as difficult.

Oxford revisited

Susie, Mom and I went up to Oxford in Susie’s purple Nissan Micra this past weekend to spend the day with the Itens. As the disstupid amongst you will have surmised from the title, it was not the first time I had visited.*

*I’m reading Nicholas Nickleby at the moment. Has anyone else noticed how round-about Dickens’s style is? Instead of saying “he was thinking about Smike”, Dickens writes: “[h]e sat in a musing attitude for some time, regarding Smike occasionally with an anxious and doubtful glance, which sufficiently showed that he was not very remotely connected with his thoughts”.




Remarkably, for me, I remembered to take (and use) my camera. I had intended to post my photos in this blog, but I am prevented from doing so by my own manifest disintelligence: Tired of carrying my camera around all day like a Wally, I thought I would be Clever and slip the camera into Susie’s bag, unnoticed. But at the end of the day, I forgot to retrieve the camera. Like a Wally. By now Susie’s probably flogged it on the grimy streets of Tower Hamlets. But fear not. I’ve plundered some photos my mother posted on Facebook, so the less verbally-inclined amongst you can still follow our adventures in narrative pictorial form.

We started off with a tour of Ben’s and Jaime’s place at Wolfson College. The flat is surrounded by family-friendly facilities (including safety gates for families with small children) and beautiful gardens. And the River Cherwell meanders along the borders of it all. Inside, the flat is spacious, with a large and functional kitchen, a light, airy sitting room and roomy sleeping quarters (with a view!). (I can’t help sounding like an estate agent right now. Sorry.)

I was particularly delighted by the signs everywhere reading “RIVER DANGER”. Given that Oxford is spiritual home of mediaeval English literature, this presumably refers to the threat posed by Grendel’s mother or similar.

For lunch we walked to the King’s Arms, one of the better pubs for food in the centre of town. I wasn’t about to repeat the mistake of a fortnight ago, when I marched everyone into the wilderness but failed to produce the fish and loaves. The King’s Arms proved a good choice, although curiously everything was served with salad on top. Including the pizzas.

While hovering outside the pub before continuing our tour of Oxford someone spotted a 20 pence piece on the ground beneath one of the picnic tables. An ingrained sense of social decency prevented any of us from collecting it for the Found Fund, as this would have involved crawling on hands and knees beneath a table full of revellers and physically lifting someone’s shoe out of the way. In anticipatory compensation for this failure, the Itens had produced a 10 Euro cent piece. (This has been noted in this week’s draft report to head office.)

We toured Oxford, stopping in at the Turf Tavern and the Bodleian library (pictured), and going round Merton College, where we saw Mob Quad (pictured), Fellows Quad (site of the annual Merton Time Ceremony), and the gardens. After this we visited the Covered Market for coffee, and then made our way back to Wolfson to crown our visit with a game of Pooh sticks and a tour of Wolfson’s grounds.

Flat for sale + I'm up to date

No, it's not snowing here at the moment, though it is pretty cold. But it's a nice picture.

I'm selling my flat. Or at least listing it. If you want to see the most perfect flat. In the world. Ever. You'd better see it soon. I know I've uploaded this photo before.

In other news, I read everyone's most recent blog entries. I can particularly recommend Brad's last two, and Jaime's, too. What's up with Jennie and Ben and Ben? At least post a couple of amusing pictures.

Found

Those of you who have any regular contact with Julie’s father, Barry, will be aware of the significance of the Found Fund. Instituted some nine years ago, the Found Fund is the brainchild of Barry and his friend, Ian, and it is dedicated to putting ‘found’ money to good use. Each Wednesday Barry and Ian meet to compare their findings for the week, and once or twice a year they select one or more charities to donate their cache to.

The rules are simple, but rigid. Only money which is genuinely ‘found’ may be accepted. ‘Found’ money may include coins (and smaller notes) found on the pavement or in the road, pennies at points of sale (in shops), money which has fallen behind the seat on an Underground carriage and any other money where the owner genuinely cannot be traced. Donations cannot be accepted. Money which falls from the pocket of the person in front of you in the queue is not ‘found’. And £10 notes found in the back of a taxi, alas, should be given to the taxi driver.

Over the past nine years, Barry and Ian have raised (literally) over £900 ($1,800) for various charities through the Found Fund.

This last month I was admitted to associate membership of the Found Fund, London branch (I would scan a picture of my certificate, but I don’t have it handy). In the past four weeks, I have found over £9.49, as well as $0.01 (Canadian), €0.05 (Euro) and 0.20 Mauritian rupees. I’ve done this with the help, increasingly, of two colleagues at work who have joined in the effort.

Finding money is addictive. It is also competitive. I walked out at lunch on Tuesday with one of my colleagues, looking for coins. I spotted a 5p. She didn’t.

So, if you would like to join the ranks of the shameless filthy street grubbers, let me know, and I’ll funnel your legitimately found money to HQ in Bangor. I always credit my sources.