Be back soon

I'm writing a final post for this leg of the trip from Heathrow Airport, waiting for my flight back home to NJ. Well we ended our first 2 weeks with a bang, going to yet another High Table (old hat at this point) last night. And it was a fun weekend all around! On Saturday, our friends Steve Cowley (who invited Greg to London 12 years ago, and is now director of the plasma physics lab just outside of Oxford) and his wife Margaret came for a whirlwind trip of visiting and fun. We threw a party at "our house" Saturday night, with about 15 people coming over for dessert and sherry. A couple of the young women made fabulous desserts, Alex the Russian brought offerings from his wine cellar, and I provided fruit and cheeses. Great fun! The last guests left around 1am.

But Sunday was the High Table, and after a really fun afternoon of dress-shopping for Margaret (the men, as you might imagine, occupied themselves otherwise), we all gussied ourselves up for a pretty large gathering. Greg and Steve stood in front of a Youtube video teaching you how to tie a bowtie, and both of them looked smashing! I'm not sure just how many people you can ultimately fit at this large U-shaped table, but I think we came close to the limit last night. There were at least two Sir-something's and their Ladies in attendance, and the young Italian physicist to my left had recently been at a lunch with the Queen.

Here are two photos, taken in Alex's rooms at Merton (incredible views!) of how we all cleaned up (we all looked so good, I made the pictures extra large). And Alex did eventually put on shoes.

I cannot wait to get home and see my Lilybear, but I have a feeling I'll be really excited to come right back in early June. Stay tuned! I'll send out an e-mail when I start Round Two.

There is a big tree of lilacs outside our living room window on Merton Street, and I just missed them blooming. I told Greg to keep track of them, and enjoy their fragrance for me . . .

You can't make this stuff up

My goodness, we are piling up interesting experiences like so much Mid-Western snow of this past winter. This little vignette happened on Tuesday, April 30th, and felt like a scene out of a comic British novella.

One of the ancient edifices in Oxford is the Tower of St. Michael's at the Northgate. I think it dates from something like 1083 (give or take), but you get the picture. Oooooooold. And you can climb to the top and have a great bird's-eye view of the city.

Speaking of birds, it becomes apparent, as you climb towards the top, that pigeons really like this place. There are, um, pieces of evidence scattered liberally that suggest a pigeon's presence. Many pigeons' presences.

Greg and I went to the top, enjoyed the view, and started our way back down. When you're almost to the base (after you've been to the top), you enter this small room that holds a few cases  of books and artifacts. It overlooks the sanctuary of St. Michael's church. I noticed, as we arrived in that room, that the rector of the church was walking out, with a long-handled duster in his hands, and I thought "Well, there's a multi-tasking man of God." As we began to look at the display cases, a lovely unusually-colored pigeon flew in and alighted on the window sill.

Creature-lover that I am, I thought, cool! We said hello and let her be. Soon, a kind woman with a priestly collar arrived in the room. Her goal, we discovered: Catch the pigeon. Get it out to freedom and fresh air. Somehow it had found its way inside. But as I mentioned, pigeons are not house-broken, so they really can't stay inside! The woman cleric seemed to have a kind and animal-friendly heart. And really, so did the rector, but as he reentered with his duster/pigeon-prodder, his hand - as it were - was a bit clumsy. For the next five minutes or so, the four of us tried to capture the poor frightened bird. To no avail. The rector flailed and beat at it like a dusty carpet, and I worried if the poor thing would survive the trauma! Greg tried to gently cover it with a tea towel. It fluttered from window sill to bookshelf, stirring up dust that had probably sat there for many years. The room began to get a bit cloudy, like an Anglican service with too much incense. Finally, we were able to get the pigeon from the confines of this small and dusty room to the larger sanctuary. Safe (in my mind) from the rector and his combative duster. I commented, as we got the bird to the sanctuary, "Boy, if that was the Holy Spirit (as is so often seen in Scripture, as a bird, a dove), the Lord is probably wondering, 'What the heck are ya doing there, trying to whack the Holy Ghost!" Compared to that, the rest of the day was uneventful.

May Day, 25 Years On

Twenty-five years ago on this day, Greg asked me to marry him. Saying yes has brought about such an interesting walk through life! And the kindest, sweetest traveling companion. I thought this picture gave a good visual to being together for 25 years. The further we go, the closer together we get, by God's grace and mercy.

I'm pretty pooped, as we in fact DID get up at 5:30 to celebrate May Day here, so more tomorrow, but here are a couple more pix . . .

Greg thinkin' hard. That's what he gets paid to do.

We walk down this lane every day. Logical or not. And the following are two very different kinds of windows, but both, I think, are beautiful. The first is a view at Magdalene (pronounced Maudlin) College where C.S. Lewis was a Don; the last photo is on the second floor landing of our home.