Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Never have I felt the reality of that phrase more keenly! I am so eager to see Lily, my little 7-pound fluff-ball cupcake, it almost hurts.

 
I am so eager to have the warmth and heat that you normally associate with the month of June. I am eager to grill burgers, get back to work with Lil visiting people at our local hospital, eager to be useful instead of at leisure. But. But . . .

I have fallen in love with Oxford. Deep, hard, forever. Greg too, I think. And we are already thinking about how we will get back here. For those of you who don't know, Greg and I spent a year in London 12 years ago, a wonderful, yea, fabulous year in the heart of London, in an amazing flat, in a great neighborhood. But I have long known that I am a "townie", not an urban dweller. So while we loved that year in London, Oxford is more "us".

 What a strange feeling to be so glad to come home, but leaving the Postmaster's House (behind us there), I felt very wistful. Through that large wooden gate is a beautiful courtyard with pond, and this is what I see out our kitchen window every morning:

And all the views and places we have grown so fond of . . .

Maybe this was why Aberdeen struck me as so monotonous, coming from colorful streets such as Broad Street, above. Just to the left of this view is the Sheldonian Theater, with all those wonderful heads:

And then "our" street, Merton Street . . . 

Thanks for reading my little diary here - as of today, June 26th, the site logged over 1000 hits! Woo-weee! I'm about to head up to Mom's to pick up Lily, it's hot and steamy outside, and the flowers in the backyard have grown alot in three weeks. It's great to be home. But where Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco, we have left a signifcant part of ours in Oxford. If you ever get the chance, do go visit! And maybe you'll fall in love too. Cheers, all, with love - Kate.

Sic Transit Gloria

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi - "Thus passes the glory of the world." This phrase was large in our minds yesterday as we visited the dramatic castle ruin of Dunnatar Castle in Stonehaven, Scotland.

Stunning, huh? Oddly, it reminded me of the Pacific Coast near Rancho Palos Verdes, where Mom and I visited last summer. This place really seems like something out of a movie, and those of us with overactive imaginations just ache to see the banners flapping from the turrets, to see a line of horses in their finery carrying lords and ladies in their finery to this stony outcrop on the North Sea. All of the views once you climb to where the ruins are (which isn't as bad as it looks. At least there are stairs there now) are dramatic and sweeping. You are very high up on this promontory, and here is your view to the left, if you are facing the sea:

Puffins nest here, and we were hoping to see some, but never did. Lots of gulls, no puffins.

I'm writing this at the Aberdeen Airport as Greg and I await our flight back to Heathrow, and then back to Oxford for a quick overnight. And then tomorrow morning, Tuesday, back to Heathrow once again to (finally) come home to New Jersey! It's been a great trip, but we're ready for home and some HEAT. I've been wearing scarf, gloves and a hat the last few days, with a fair amount of rain. I'm not sure what season we're in!

I'll just leave you with a few more pics of the castle ruin, gorgeous and haunting.

Reasons to be Cheerful

The beauty of not going viral with a blog like this is that chances are, nobody but YOU know that I painted a dull picture of Aberdeen yesterday. But it means we won't get thrown out of O'Neills tonight when we go there for a late dinner.

So it's not all bad here. Our hotel is nice. The shower pressure is great, the showers are hot, the food is good - we went to a wonderful Italian restaurant last night, Rustico, that had amazing, really fresh home-cooked food! The night before was the Wild Boar pub, which also had great food.

And we went to Drum Castle today! Me roots, yeh? The weather was not too bad when we arrived, even a bit of sun . . .

Fortunately and unfortunately, the castle is undergoing renovations, so the oldest part, this wonderful tower from the early 1300's, is covered in scaffolding and blue tarp. Sigh! But the parts we could visit were great. For good pictures of the castle, here's a good place to visit: http://www.nts.org.uk/Property/Drum-Castle-Garden-Estate/. And then it started to rain. And then it really started to rain! But hey, it's just water, right? So we donned our rain gear and went out to see the family chapel, a stone's throw away from the castle.

Still raining as we left the charming chapel . . .

But again, it's just rain!

Mom had told me that Drum Castle had a cemetery for their dogs, which made me sure that we were descended from them. Here lies Dougal, and Vickie, Pu Pu and Duffy. Thank you, Lord, for the creatures you give us to love, and to be loved by.

 But let's take a closer look at this one:

Apparently, according to one of the castle guides, there was a tortoise as well, who meandered the grounds for a good long time. I love this family who made room on their land, and in their hearts, for their loved animals. These are my peeps (however far removed we are, in fact).

Could be a looooong weekend

Well, well, well. We have arrived in Scotland, our destination being the city of Aberdeen. Far north, on the east coast of Scotland, a port city. Actually, our primary goal here is to visit Drum Castle, where my ancestor William de Irwyn (armor bearer and secretary of Robert the Bruce). It's about a half hour drive from here. We'll visit there on Sunday.

We arrived yesterday evening, and I was all eagerness and anticipation. We meant to do this trip back in 2002, when we were in London for a year, but it just didn't happen. So here we come, finally, to the Mother Country!

I can't wait to get out of here.

Specifically, I can't wait to get out of Aberdeen. Curious, because it has been named one of the 3 happiest places to live in the UK. I'm sorry, but someone got that terribly wrong. I have never visited a place that had such a visceral, negative effect on me. I have been here less than 24 hours and I feel this weird internal desperation. It is, visually, one the most depressing places I've ever visited. This is largely due to the fact that every building - almost to a one - is built out of granite. Dull, grey, plain granite. It's as if the Faerie of Despond took her wand, waved it over this city, and turned everything to concrete. It is unrelenting, unremitting drab grey stone wherever you look, with a severity to detail and lack of ornament that exacerbates the effect.

The above two buildings are quite lovely, but it is part of what makes the whole place seem under some kind of curse. Everything is made from this stone, and so the effect is that of a spell that has everything petrified. I am waiting for the curse to be broken, to see color flood this city like the flush coming back to Lazarus' cheeks. Don't think it's gonna happen while we're here.

Since it is a port city, right on the water, there are gulls everywhere. Normally, in a shore town, their cries are somehow lovely and just emphasize the delicious reality that you're in a wonderful, beach-y place. Here, their cries sound mournful, and add to the de Chirico-like effect of this place. The people here are nice enough. I just don't know how they can stand to live here. A good friend of mine has said that there aren't antidepressants strong enough for her to live in a small English town. I would paraphrase that sentiment for Aberdeen. It also explains to me why Scotch whiskey is so popular here.

We will visit a castle ruin tomorrow, 15 miles south of here, and that should be interesting. Drum Castle on Sunday. But Monday morning can't come soon enough.

On a positive note, I met a great service dog today named Harriet . . . and Greg has been a steady source of low-key cheer.

Bits and Bobs

The first time I heard this expression (as with many “British-isms”), I wrinkled my brow and laughed at the same time. Say it out loud, and it just sounds funny. It means odds and ends, bits and pieces, a hodge-podge. But again, spoken with a British accent, it’s one of those phrases I still love to hear. I don’t laugh anymore, but I smile inwardly. Anyway, this will be a "bits and bobs" post, as we wind up this trip to Oxford. So bittersweet - I'm starting to get homesick, especially for my tiny pal, Lily. But there is always more to see, more to do. We are already planning on coming back!

Today is Thursday, June 20^th, and I heard the 10 a.m. ring of the Merton Chapel bells for the last time this morning. The bells of Oxford, heard from various chapels and churches around town are almost as good as wearing a watch. In fact, I forgot my watch coming over here, and was considering buying a cheap one upon my arrival. Until I started hearing a ringing in my ears – the bell towers. They ring on the hour (with a toll of what time it is after a short melodic ringing), then on the quarter hour, then on the half hour, and at quarter til. I’ve really gotten used to them, and will actively miss them. There was something beautiful and comforting about the sound. I recorded them yesterday morning – here’s what they sound like . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZexdiQHIMrE

Given that the bell tower was just across the street from us, it made a pretty good morning alarm too.

The past two days Greg has been able to take a lot of time off, and we got to be tourists. One of the places I took Greg yesterday was a magical, out-of-the-way place that seems to be a well-kept secret in Oxford. It is a small cemetery, slightly off the beaten path, and it is marked by gorgeous, large old trees (some kind of twisting evergreen) and a wild, sort of overgrown feel to it. Thing is, this is by design. They do mow the grass so that there are pathways, but they want to make it a sanctuary for small wild animals (rabbits, foxes). Kenneth Grahame, author of The Wind in the Willows is buried here. Also Charles Williams, a poet and writer, who was one of The Inklings, along with CS Lewis and JRR Tolkein, is laid to rest here too, with the inscription "Under the Mercy" on his gravestone. Here are some pictures:

There are alot of beautiful Celtic Crosses there -

 

This person apparently didn't like getting wet . . . 

Greg and I have always liked walking through old cemeteries! You encounter history, somehow, with a very personal flavor to it.

We also did a walking tour on Tuesday, which was interesting. One of the things pointed out to us were the two following landmarks:

These are close to one another (if you stand in front of the faun carving, and look to your right, you see that single lamp post), and they are also at a place that CS Lewis frequented. If you have read The Chronicles of Narnia, in particular The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe, then you will be familiar with Mr. Tumnus, the helpful faun, and also with the lamp post that stood at the juncture of Narnia and the "real" world. Did these inspire Lewis? You do wonder. There are actually two fauns (I just showed one) that flank the doorway here:

. . . and here's a close-up of the door:

Neat-o, huh?

Greg and I have just arrived in Aberdeen, Scotland this evening, and will spend the weekend here. More on that tomorrow. It was still light at 10 pm! Thank goodness for room-darkening curtains.

Food, Glorious Food

The British, by tradition, have never been known for their outstanding cuisine. These are the people who came up with mushy peas, beans on toast, and kidney pie. Mmmmm, mmm! "Glorious" is not the word that comes to mind when playing a word association game regarding food, and England. But oh boy, things have changed alot in the past twenty years or so! And definitely for the better. Without looking too hard, you certainly can find traditional stuff that fits the mold of boring, starchy, gloppy food. But with equal ease you can find, these days, food that will absolutely knock your socks off. Also, there are all kinds of funky things they have here that we don't have, and while they are not staple items, they sure add something pleasant and different to mealtime. Here are a couple of my recent favorites:

In truth, the garlic flavor could be a bit stronger, but it's a great concept, right? And then there's this condiment:

Greg and I love caramelized onions on just about anything. And here they do it for you! I haven't tried the following yet, but I'm bringing it home with me. Maybe a cross between ketchup and tapenade?

There's an interesting thing too regarding some of their homegrown veggies. Note this package of asparagus tips I bought today. They not only tell you where they were grown, they tell you WHO grew them!

That's accountability for you. (A possible conversation overheard at Sainsbury's: "You know, I fancy the Chinn's asparagus over the Ferguson's, I don't know what it is . . .")

But where the current British supermarket absolutely blows us away is the prepared food. That is, meals you can take home and either cook, or just heat up. The range is as wide as your imagination, from Thai to Indian (Northern and Southern) to Greek to Middle Eastern to Italian. All kinds of side dishes, unusual vegetable combinations. And they are so interesting and different! Check out this meal that I will probably have tomorrow:

Persian Chicken & Lamb Koftas (meatballs, basically), rice with pomegranates and pistachios. And don't forget the cardamom yogurt! Wow! In the "British Classics" department, just about every supermarket chain has the best, biggest, flakiest frozen batter-dipped fish (a la fish n' chips) that you've ever tasted. I get misty just thinking about it.

But the piece de resistance is something that I never, ever thought I'd see in the prepared food section of even Harrod's fancy-pants food court. Do you know what Coquilles St Jacques is (are)? Of course, you had it last night for dinner. (Funny, so did we!) It is a superlatively elegant dish that my gourmet chef mom used to make when she would have a special dinner party. Thing is, you do not, as a rule, say "Hmm, look what I've got in the fridge, I think I'll throw me together some Coquilles St. Jacques". Non, non, non, mon ami, this is something that requires no small amount of labor, a decent amount of planning. First, you must find actual scallop shells (white, shallow, about the size of a woman's fist). Then you concoct the filling, which is bay scallops (the very small ones) in an amazing cream sauce. But the presentation is key: the little pond of scallops-in-cream-sauce sits ensconced in a beach of mashed potatoes squirted out of a frosting nozzle. This all sits in that scallop shell you tracked down at some gourmet food shop. And then the whole thing gets a delicate covering of flavored, buttered breadcrumbs. It is one of the sublime gastromical joys of life! And you can buy a two-pack of 'em at Marks & Spencer for £5 ($7.50)! And they're FANTASTIC! Incroyable!

So while Greg was out at a work-related dinner tonight, I did not nuke a frozen pack of mac n' cheese. No sirree-bob. I had Moroccan-spiced chicken kabobs (with Tzaziki sauce on the side), with a cous cous/grilled veggie salad, and the Chinn Family asparagus, stir-fried with red peppers and onions. It was an absolutely delicious meal. Food, glorious food, indeed!

Um, I think you might have gotten just a drop of saliva on your keyboard there. Might wanna clean that up. . . sorry.