Three Things

I've been getting worried messages on fb and such, wondering if I'm in the riot area. And I'm happy to say, so far, I'm not. That doesn't mean things can't change, but so far, I'm not near.

I went out of town for the day today (more in a bit), and when I came back, having been newsless all day, I was curious about my neighborhood. But there's the usual mixed age, mixed race crowd of people relaxing at the outdoor pub seating (and I presume others are inside), walking here and there, often dragging suitcases, talking on cell phones (I should say "mobiles"), and just being in the area.

My super-duper-please-don't-fail-me-now system of staying out of trouble is to not worry if lots of regular folks are about, and to try not to be where regular folks aren't, if I can help it. And that goes double in places where I'm unfamiliar with things (and I am here, for sure). And if there's trouble, and I don't want to be in it, go the other way. (There might be a time when I really should choose to be in some trouble. I hope I will know that time, and have the courage to step up.)

***

My day to day was just about as perfect as one could wish. I took the train to Oxford, where Brian and his Better Half guided me around, pointing out the coolness, patiently waiting while I took my usual pictures, showed me around his college (how cool is it to have a "college" at Oxford!), and then took me out to a really good lunch, which set me up for spending more time wandering around and going to see the Ashmolean.

Speaking of trouble (remember, way back when?), this is a marker of where Latimer and Ridley (and later, Cranmer) were burned at the stake during the reign of Mary I. I think I hadn't put together the Oxford where they were burned at the stake with the Oxford that's a place I might visit, somehow. Does that make sense?

Here's a green at Trinity. Isn't that amazing. I got sort of amazed by Trinity for a while, and didn't remember to take pictures. It's so exactly what you might expect an Oxford college to be.

This is part of what was the Divinity Lecture place (if I'm remembering correctly. There's a chair here that was built from Sir Frances Drake's famous ship, The Hind, that went around the world!

Look, a chair! I'm interested in Drake a bit because when I was a kid, Drake was the one English name that made it into my history class other than the 13 colonies and Revolutionary War. So this is way cooler for me than it may be for you.

This is Mob Quad inside Merton College, which, I'm told, is one of the very first of the quads Oxford is famous for.

Here's a message board up at Merton, just to show that there's something in common with the colleges and universities I'm more familiar with: it's an activities and who to call for peer counseling sort of board.

So, those are my Oxford pictures. Way cool, and totally unlike any college/university I've ever been to before.

And once again, thanks to Brian and his Better Half for the tour!

***

The show! You're wondering how A Woman Killed with Kindness was last night, aren't you?

Mixed. The staging was really interesting. It was played in maybe the early 20th century, with two partial house interiors side by side. On the left, the home of Sir Charles Mountford and his sister, Susan. That side looks sort of Georgian, with that sort of wall feel, rounded stair, and so on. On the right is the interior of John Fankford and his new wife, Anne. This house looks much more early 20th century. I think they're trying to say something about old/not as old money.

I haven't read the play in lo these many years, so I don't remember if there are big dumbshow sequences, but there were in this production. It was sort of effective, but also distracting at times. I had difficulty following what was happening on both sides of the stage at the same time, sometimes.

I was up in the balcony, and also found it weird to look from that angle, and had some difficulty hearing one or two of the actors well.

I guess for me, the biggest failure was that the play didn't hit me.

Let me admit that I'm the biggest whuss in the world when it comes to crying when people die in literature. I get teary eyed just thinking about Cyrano. But I didn't get teary eyed at this play, and I guess it just didn't hit me strongly enough.

***

I'm a theater noob, and that was brought home to me last night. I can probably count the number of professional plays I've seen without taking off my shoes. I didn't grow up seeing plays with my family (though we did go see musicals a lot, but not plays per se). I remember the first play I saw, with a junior high school program that took us to a matinee of Cyrano. The next time, they took us to Caesar and Cleopatra. Both made a big impression on me, but I wasn't the kind of kid who had a lot of motivation to go out and do stuff like that on my own. (When I was supposed to read Julius Caesar in high school, I got totally, totally confused.)

Back to my noobness. I got to the theater early, and got lost in the theater complex. It's huge. And then I was worried because there was an overhead announcement about the play about to begin, but I couldn't figure out to get where my seats were, and then when I asked, the woman said we couldn't go in yet. And finally I realized that there must be another play in the complex that started earlier. I'm always one of the people at the theater who looks totally lost and out of place, you know? I have friends who always look totally cool and knowledgable, and I'm just not them. (Happily, they put up with me.)

And then we finally got in, and that was cool.

Big City Living

The other day walking in the subway station, I saw a big poster ad for a Toulouse-Lautrec show at a museum at Somerset House. Being me I thought, Robert Carr's house still survives what with all the scandal and all? But no, different Somerset. And it's not really the same house, I think, so much as built up in the same place with the same name.

Still, it's a Tudor era palace (or was), started by the Duke of Somerset (Carr was an Earl, I think?), then taken over and used as a house for Princess Elizabeth (before she was Queen Elizabeth), and then by Stuart queens. Eventually the navy took over, and now it's this big museumy complex thing. And way cool.

What you may not know is that I really, really like Lautrec's works. I do. Even though he's practically still alive and everything.

So I put it high on my list, as in, let's do this in the morning, because Monday's are free. So that's where I started my morning this morning.

And it was very good. The Lautrec exhibit was just wonderful, and put together very well with lots of good pieces and helpful descriptions.

And as I was walking through, I thought a lot about how very lucky I am to be in London right now when this specific exhibit is happening. Let's face it, exhibits like this get put together and sometimes travel, but only to pretty big cities. And I don't normally live in a big city.

I do live only a few hours by car (and I have a car in the US) from a couple of big cities, though, and I bet they do have good visiting exhibits. And it's my own damned fault that I haven't gotten to know those cities well (or even at all). With my horrid sense of direction, I'm lousy at finding my way in new cities. (But I can follow a transit map!) I really should, though, just get a friend or three together and visit shows just to do it. (Then I saw that New Kid has a post up about a Chron article about someone visiting a small town on a campus visit, and I hope I wasn't being as obnoxiously condescending.)

The museum had a fair bit of other stuff, including one of the really great Van Gogh pieces with his ear bandaged, a Picasso that was stunning, and so on.

As I was walking through that part, I saw a familiar face and thought, hey, I know that guy! (Well, "know" in the sense that I've seen the painting before.) It took me a moment, and I realized it was a portrait of Castiglione. (The Wikipedia page shows Raphael's portrait.)

But, I thought, shouldn't that be in Italy? But I went closer, and learned that it was a copy by Rubens (gosh, maybe I'm getting him confused with Rembrandt? I think by Rubens.)

I don't know if it's Castiglione or Raphael's talent (or Rubens' talent in copying Raphael), but since I've seen that picture, I've always thought the Castiglione would be an incredible person to have met or had a conversation with over dinner (well, were my Italian better, anyway). There's just something about the eyes and the way they work in his face.

***

After visiting the Lautrec exhibit, I went on to an exhibit about the Tudor palace and the barge, and they have an 18th or 19th century naval barge on display there so that people can see what a barge for important people travelling on the Thames would have looked like, and it was so fancy! So now I have that in mind when I think about Wolsey or H8 going down to Hampton Court Palace.

Then I was going to walk to the Embankment station, but along the way I found this little Embankment park, and stupidly decided that I'd walk to my second stop of the day, the Imperial War Museum. Now, I'm ashamed to say that I could get lost in my own closet, so of course I didn't find the most direct route. (I'm not really sure there's a direct route anywhere in London.) But I finally made it, had some lunch, and looked at WWI and WWII stuff until I had had enough of war stuff and came home. I'm not much good for tanks and such, though I'd be more interested in armor and such. I did see a rifle that was presented to (and used by) Lawrence of Arabia, and I went through the Children in War exhibit, which was pretty good. I couldn't bear to go through the Holocaust exhibit. I get too emotional (and have been to a couple Holocaust museums) and I just didn't have the energy to do that today.

And now. Now I am refreshed a bit, and rested, and about to go out for night life! Yes, I'm heading to the theater to see A Woman Killed with Kindness! (I know! I'm excited!)

Tudor Living

With friends like Henry VIII, who needed enemies? So it went for Thomas Wolsey.

As you'd expect, I went to visit his house. Except it wasn't his house for long, though while he owned it, he did some building (or hired people to do some building), because Henry decided he'd like it, and that was apparently that. But Henry didn't like it well enough, so he, too, built more, and made it even more splendid.

And then, of course, Henry died. Time passes, and William and Mary added a whole big wing, changed the gardens, and changed it from a Tudor feeling palace to a Tudor plus palace.

At any time, though, people need to eat. Here's a picture of a kitchen fire area. It was lit, and really put out a lot of heat!

I was interested to see the soot marking up the side, and well to the wood beam looking ceiling. It's a wonder it didn't burn! (Maybe it did, and more than once? I don't know.)

And here are plates. They served something like 600 people at a time when the king was holding court. And then the local resources would run short, and he'd go off to another palace. Life was tough... for the people who had to pack and manage things!

I love ceiling decorations, and this place has the most amazing ones. The best are in the Chapel Royal, but you're not allowed to take pictures in there so I don't have pictures from in them. (But I found a link! And it's official!)

This is a picture from the big Tudor room where courtiers would hang out, hoping they could beg the monarch for whatever favor they could get. It's huge, just huge, and the ceiling is amazing.

And then you get to the later part, the part that William and Mary had built. This is from Mary's apartment, the room where her guards would have hung out. Check out the supporters (?) for the fireplace.

And here's where William sat. (They ruled jointly, but they had separate apartments. Totally outside my experience of married folks I know.)

And here's a totally different sort of chair.

And a garden. I asked a guard, and they have a garden staff of about 40 all year around. Wow. That's a lot of weeding and planting, isn't it?

If you look carefully at the center of this picture (you might have to click to make it bigger), you can see some costumed performers. It was a special day of stuff celebrating the William and Mary era, much of it in the gardens.

Then it was time to go home. To get there, I went to the Waterloo station and took a separate train that ended right near, and walked over a bridge, and there I was.

But here's the Thames! I'm guessing Wolsey would have taken a boat of some sort up and down, and it would have been quicker than a wagon or carriage, right? (And probably more comfortable.) I'm grateful to have subways and trains, since I don't think anyone would want to row me up and down the Thames on a whim.

A cool thing: I finally realized that if I buy a year's membership, it's cheaper (assuming I go back to the Tower) than buying separate tickets to each of the four royal palaces. So that was good!

***

Today, I went to have lunch with the cousin of a friend, and it was lovely, and nice, and in all ways a wonderful way to spend the day. They took me to see Kenwood House, which has a wonderfully intimate art collection. It's the perfect size, small enough to walk through and take time, and big enough to totally engage the mind. I love seeing pictures of people I've read about! There was one of Richard Sackville, the wastrel gambler first husband of Anne Clifford! And he looked every bit the fop! (In fact, here's a link to the picture I saw! Check out the shoes and stockings!)

***

ps. For anyone who's worried, I wasn't near the Tottenham riot last night. I only found out about it on the TV.

Whan that August...

Yes, I did Chaucer's pilgrims one better and actually got there. And it was amazing, beautiful, horrifying.

I can't quite believe how much I've enjoyed the three big churches I've visited so far, each so different.

Canterbury. Well, I have to say, I love a good story, and the history of Canterbury is absolutely full of them. I learned about St. Augustine of Canterbury, and Queen Bertha and King Ethelbert and the founding of the English church at Canterbury. (I totally think Prince Charles should choose a really good name like Ethelbert of Ethelred should he become king. He should NOT become George VII. And you can tell him I said so.)

Among the most famous stories associated with Canterbury is the assassination of Thomas Becket. Becket's stuff was all destroyed during the reformation (boo hiss!), but this modern altar and sculpture was put in the place where he was said to have died. The art piece represents the sword that got broken in killing him, and also the side ones (with shadow) represent the four swords, and then there's the cross imagery, and it's all jagged and violent.

According to the guides, Becket's grave was down below, in the Norman part of the Cathedral. I went down there, into the crypt, but you're not supposed to take pictures there, so I didn't. (You are allowed to take pictures in the Cathedral proper, though.)

After Becket's death and such, the Cathedral built onto the east end, for a shrine, called the Corona Shrine, since one of Becket's relics was the crown of his skull. (I saw a piece down in the treasury that has a bone fragment that the label says MAY be a fragment from Becket. It was miniscule.) The candle in this picture marks where they think Becket's shrine was, before the breaking up. If you look carefully, you can see there's a sort of dip worn into the floor. The guide said that was from pilgrims. And beyond, you can see the grave monument of Edward the Black Prince (the one on the right).

I became fascinated with Edward the Black Prince when I took my first Chaucer class and learned a little about him as a culture hero. So it's pretty darned amazing to me to see his monument and his achievements. It amazes me to think that things survive from 1376.

Here's the creature under Edward's foot in the monument. I would guess it's supposed to be a dog, since guinea pigs are from the Americas.

Here are Edward's "achievements," stuff he supposedly carried. Amazing that it's survived.

After Edward, we get to Henry IV. My "knowledge" of history is overwhelmingly informed by Shakespeare, so I tend to think H4 is a jerk. And Richard 2 spoke just amazingly beautiful poetry, even if he was a schmuck as a king.

But, of course, Shakespeare was writing great drama, and not history or historiography, so R2 was a lousy king, and probably didn't even speak fluent English for all I know. (I've read that Henry 5 was the first Plantagenet king to speak English as his first language. Anyone know?)

At any rate, Richard was Edward the Black Prince's kid, and Henry 4 was Richard's cousin, and Edward's nephew, so one of the stories the guide told as possible was that Henry had wanted to be buried across from Edward as a sort of penance for killing his son. (Richard is buried in Westminster, on the edge of Edward the Confessor's chapel. Been there!)

The stories don't end there, though. Down towards the nave a bit, just before the choir area, there's on one side, the tomb of Henry Chichele, and on the other, looking at it, the chair that the arch-bishop of Canterbury sits in when at services. If you're like me, you're thinking Henry who? And that, my friends, is why it's always good to chat with the local docents and guards.

Do you remember the opening of Henry 5, where the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Eli are planning how to set Henry up as the heir to France so that he'll go to war and then won't get all tax-hungry at the church? Well, Chichele would have been THAT Archbishop of Canterbury. Except, according to the stuff posted at the Cathedral, he couldn't have been at that particular council (so it's not his fault). He was, however, at the Battle of Agincourt, and was so horrified by it that he started All Souls College at Oxford in part to pray for the dead of the conflict with the French, which, according to the guide, is responsible for taking care of his tomb.

This second picture is from the lower bunk of his tomb, the momento mori part, that's supposed to remind us of what we'll become, even though we get to dress all fancy in life. And that's supposedly the point of sitting the current Archbishop of Canterbury (at whatever time) across from this tomb, so that he'll remember what's really important, and not get all nasty.

That takes us through the middle ages, but there's one more great story here. Have you been watching the TV show The Tudors? I've seen two episodes now, on late night TV here, and coincidently, last night's late episode had Henry sending an emissary to France to try to get Reginald Pole arrested and returned to him, since he'd rejected Henry's pre-eminence in the church and run away to France. But then Henry died, and so did his son Edward, and guess who came to the throne? That's right! Queen Mary! And Mary was Catholic, and guess who became the new Archbishop of Canterbury! Reginald Pole! And he's buried here, too, having died a few hours after Mary herself (which was lucky, because Elizabeth would have treated him horribly, I'm guesing).

Here's a bonus! It's a Harris Hawk (an American native, but popular for falconry). Did you know there's someone who's official work involves scaring off pigeons around Canterbury Cathedral? Well, there is, and this is his hawk. Coolness! That's something you won't see on just every tour!

As I was getting towards leaving mode, a choir came into the Cathedral, and went into the choir area and started practicing. So I sat in the nave for a while, just listening. The choir area is behind this huge screen thing, and the building is massive, and yet, the music was beautiful and clear. I sat and tried to imagine what it would have been like to attend a mass and hear the monastic choir singing in Latin and such.

So I stayed for the Evensong service, which was held in the upper area, which meant we were sitting in the area where (I think) monks would have sat back in the day. It was pretty neat, and beautiful. I've now been to more church services (2) in the past month than in the past er, well, a long time.

I don't know if it's a new thing or not, but the Church of England seems friendly and inclusive, much more than I expected.

Amusing or Worrisome

There's a social media thingy set up for students at the Study Abroad Program I'll be teaching with this fall, and they invited faculty folks, and it looks like students, and probably folks who are staff and such.

There are occasional postings by staff folks about trips, what to bring, preparation, and so on.

And then there are posts by the students. I'm going to make it sound like these are discrete, but of course there's a lot of overlap. At first there were introductory posts, and then posts about what to bring and such, what majors are people, and so forth. And then posts about travel, about who wants to go where together, or where it's too scary because someone's parents said so. And now there are the party posts. Who likes to party? And then answers about how hard people are going to party.

Naturally, I have to wonder. First, does a real partier bother with social media? I'm wondering, for example, does Charlie Sheen have a page where he talks about how he's such a hard partier? (I realized, as I was trying to write that sentence, that I have little sense of who is a famous partier or not these days. I originally started with Mick Jagger, but I'm guessing he takes his fiber and gets his sleep more regularly now, than not. The infamous partiers I remember reading about when I was a kid, the sorts who regularly trashed hotel rooms and got in stoned driving scandals or whatever, are all either dead or much quieter than they used to be.)

To what extent is talking about how hard one parties a matter of bragging? And how many people don't answer those because they don't think of themselves as partiers no matter how much they go out or not?

It would be more work than it's worth to look at which students posted about studies and which about travel and which about parties, and see what sort of overlap there is. Do social media type students answer everything, or are they fairly selective?

And finally, do they not realize that the official social media thing set up by the college is a weird place to talk about how hard they party, or do they just not care?

And there's a weird disconnect between someone talking about how hard they party and another post about how someone's parents told them it is too dangerous to go to [European City] and told them they couldn't go. (Probably they aren't the same students posting, right?)

Observations

I bought an umbrella today. Yes, it's rained after 10 days. So I've had ten beautiful days. And I spent most of today at the Victoria and Albert (fantastic, more on that in a bit), so I wasn't in the rain anyway.

It's been warm and beautiful here. And I've been riding subways. I love subways. I probably wouldn't if I had to commute every day for 20 years, but I don't, so I do. But they get a little warm in the warmth.

So here's the thing. It's amazing that they've got ventilation down there. I can't imagine the planning that goes into making subway systems work, with ventilation, trains going in all different directions, people going in all different directions, and so forth.

What I've noticed with the warmth and the subways: I sweat. I feel the sweat dripping down the side of my face. My back is sometimes totally wet from carrying a backback (becaues I am SUCH a tourist).

And I am the only person on the subway who doesn't look freshly showered and powdered. It's amazing. I'm in a light shirt and light slacks, and there are people in wool suits and such, and they look totally fresh, and I'm dripping sweat. (I don't usually sweat in extreme ways, so far as I've noticed, and I don't think I'm having a hot flash every time I get on the subway.)

***

Another observation: I'm trying to figure out how to get myself some places, and figuring out train schedules is just not easy. What I'd really like is a schedule on line that looks like an old schedule, giving times when the train leaves such and so station, and so on, in a row, and then columns of trains, so it's a whole table, and you can figure out when you want to leave, and how often trains come and so on.

Instead, I've been trying to figure things out through this official site, and you have to put in when you want to go, and which station, and so on. But how do I know which station a train to MysteryCity uses?

I THINK I've sort of figured out how to get myself to Canterbury. If so, I'll go there tomorrow. If not, I'll find out, and go somewhere else or something.

***

I did make it to Stonehenge yesterday, by taking a tourist thing. It was okay, but not fabulous. I'm slow looking at stuff, and we had been held up by traffic, so I didn't get to just stand and stare long enough.

And to be honest, I think I was expecting something even bigger. Then one of my friends commented on fb about This is Spinal Tap and now my brain is sort of stuck there. Anyway, I'm sharing a stereotypical tourist picture I took.

***

Several folks have recommended the Victoria and Albert Museum as one of their favorites, so today I went. And I have to say to all those friends, you were right! It's a marvelous museum! I spent a ton of time looking at the sculptures and all sorts of medieval and early modern stuff.

One of my tricks when I go somewhere is to ask the local guard at a museum what their favorite thing is. Sometimes, you get great ideas. Today, the guard I asked said I shouldn't miss the ceramics. (It's a hit or miss thing, what can I say?) So after I'd wandered through what I really wanted to see, I headed up to the sixth floor on a lift (I'm down with all the lingo, yeah, like that.)

Now, when I think of a ceramics display in a museum, I'm thinking of something like what I saw in Japan, where there's a piece in a case with a description talking about the glaze and such.

Or maybe something like in the British Museum, where there are ancient Greek pots, and there's a little description of each, talking about black figure or red figure and so on.

That's what I'm contemplating as I ride the elevator up.

I got out of the elevator, turned, and faced these two IMMENSE floor to ceiling cases running in the center of the room, with equally large cases on the outer walls of the room, filled with ceramics like a nightmare of what you wouldn't want to have to dust. And that was the first room.

It was overwhelming. That's not to say some weren't stunningly beautiful, but mostly it looked like everyone's imaginary Victorian grandmother's fantasy china and kitsch pieces had gotten together and bred wildly. There were tea sets and figurines, and blue on white, and so on and on, for three or four rooms (I got lost among the rooms).

All I could think was: someone had to dust around those before they became museum pieces, and I'm really glad it wasn't me.

And then of course, I thought: EARTHQUAKE!

Did I ever tell you about the cow creamers and the earthquake?

When I was a little kid, my Mom had a cow creamer (usually it's a cow shaped ceramic piece with a hole in the back for putting milk/cream in, and a hole in the mouth to pour the milk through, and a tail curved into a handle) that had been a great grandmother's. And so, of course, she loved this, and I loved it, and somehow, she began to collect a few cow creamers. She had about 15 maybe, and decided she was done, and wanted to be able to display them. There was a blank area of wall in the kitchen, so she determined that there were no wires behind it, and decided to knock the wall out and put in a little niche.

So one morning, she put a hole in the plasterboard, and discovered that there were wires behind it. Oops. But then she rewired around, and built the niche, all before my Dad got home (because he would have said "I told you so" or something). Then she put in glass shelves, and on the glass shelves she put the cow creamer collection.

I know what you're thinking, but that's because you probably don't know my Mom. When she put each cow creamer in place, she glued it down. And she fixed the glass shelves in place.

And when the earthquake came, and it did, she lost one cow creamer, and nothing else in the house. (Yay for earthquake preparedness!)

I'm putting the Victoria and Albert (along with the Tower and British Museum, so far) on my list of places to visit again. It's just that good (and that big! I didn't see nearly all of it!)

Am I boring everyone?

Sights to See

I know I sound like the most stereotypically crazy tourist, raving about this and that. I'm going to sound even more like that today. Today, I visited St. Paul's Cathedral. Now, I chose to visit Westminster Abbey first, and that probably suggests something about my taste. I chose the medieval church over the late 17th century one. I wanted to see where all those kings and Chaucer, Spenser, etc. are buried, before where Nelson or Wellington are buried.

And Westminster was amazing, and beautiful, and moving. And so is St. Paul's, though in totally different ways. St. Paul's feels open and huge, but somehow not overwhelming all the time, until you stop and really look up.

In a way, there are two big sections to St. Paul's. The west part is less decorated, maybe neo-classical feeling. And the east part (from the dome on through the altar and chapel areas) got mosaics in the Victorian era. The mosaics are beautiful, but so very unnecessary. What I mean is, the west part looks clean and almost simplistic, but not. The walls are white, and the windows clear, and light, and the dimensions feel perfect. And then the mosaics got put in on the west part, and I can only imagine the loss of that feeling of openness and light. But I guess the Victorians thought it was way better. Here's a link to a picture, so you can see what I mean.

Even so, it's all beautiful. I went on a tour, so I learned some about what's where and why, and I always enjoy that. The tour guide showed us the American Chapel, which was put up in the repair of the east part of the Cathedral after WWII's damage.

One of the sad things about the Cathedral is that it pretty much burned in the Great Fire of 1666. Thus, the graves of people such as Philip Sidney, John Donne, Christopher Hatton, and lots of other early moderns were destroyed. Somewhere under there, I guess, is Sidney.

And that, of course, brings me to thinking about the whole tourist, getting to the "real" bit. I don't actually want to get TOO close to Sidney's grave, but I missed the sense I had at Chaucer's memorial, that he was somewhere very close, and Spenser, and Elizabeth, Henry Frederick, etc.

There are more recent gravesites and memorials, mostly in the crypt, and dominated by Wellington's and Nelson's. (It's amazing how BIG Nelson and Wellington must have been in the early 19th century. I can't imagine a military leader that big, maybe Churchill or Roosevelt?)

The highlight, after Donne's memorial (which survived, though not at his grave), was the climb to the Galleries. There are three galleries. The first and lowest is inside, and called "The Whispering Gallery." Then you walk up more stairs and get to the first outside gallery, called the Stone Gallery. And finally, you walk up more stairs and get to the highest gallery, called the Golden Gallery. Here's a link to an outside picture of St. Paul's dome. Take a look. You can see the area with the white stone railing around just below these little square windows. That's the Stone Gallery. At the top of the dome part, there's another area with a wrought iron looking railing, and that's the Golden Gallery.

You're not allowed to take pictures inside the Cathedral, but you are from outside, so I did. And here are a few!

From the Stone Gallery, here's a look at the Globe reconstruction (hey, Shakespeare has to get in here somehow!).

In order to get up to the Galleries, you walk up stairs, a lot of stairs. And then there are some more stairs, and you're at the inside gallery. Then there are more and more stairs, these narrow, little iron stairs, and then stone stairs, and so on.

You want to see some stairs, don't you?

And some more stairs, this time looking down.

And here's a shot looking up from the gallery.

From St. Paul's, I went to the Museum of London, but I was tuckered and my feet were tired, so I didn't get as much out of it as I would have it I'd done things the other way around. (On the other hand, I would have had a harder time with all those stairs, probably?)

Hair and Razors

I spent my day today at the National Portrait Gallery and the National Gallery.

A few years ago now, I heard David Scott Kastan give a fascinating paper on beards. Basically, he'd gotten to thinking about all the beard comments in plays and such, and wondered how many men wore beards. So he looked at a lot of named portraits, and did some counting, and found that something like 80% of the men who were named in portraits were shown with a beard in the early modern period. (Caveat: I'm vaguely remembering the statistic. And I'm not quite remembering how he defined his period. But the point is, most of the men who were named in portraits--and thus who might reasonably be thought to be an attempt to represent a specific man as he appeared--are shown with beards.)

So, of course, I was paying attention to beards. It's like all the men have them from, say, H8 to Charles 2, and suddenly most men stop wearing beards after Charles 2. And with Charles 2, I noticed, men especially start wearing really big hair, serious hair, hair that would make your most stereotypical 80s hair band type jealous. Or wigs, I'm willing to guess, in a lot of cases.

Did all the royalists come back from France with big hair and a preference for French theatrical practices? How could the big hair/wig fashion really get started? And who's providing hair for the wigs? Are they real hair?

And then slowly, wigs start getting small and powdered, and then disappearing altogether.

I was especially interested in just what you'd expect. I saw the Holbein "Ambassadors," (that's a link to the National Gallery site) because I was looking for it, and the anamorphosis worked a LOT better for me in person than it ever has on a page. But still, why put that in this picture? And why not in ones of H8? I was sitting there with the painting for a bit, and a tour group came through, I think a Japanese language tour. So I couldn't understand what was said, but it was cool to watch the tour people go up at the end and check out the skull.

Meanwhile, I got fascinated by the crucifix. Up in the upper left hand corner, that slit of darkness, there's a crucifix there. You can see Jesus in part, arms outspread in a typical crucifix pose, but he's mostly hidden. (I suppose it could be a random guy being crucified, but...) Go look; I'll wait. (The site I linked has a way to make the image big, so do that and you'll see what I mean.) So is that a hidden Catholic symbol? (the guy on the right is a bishop, visiting the French ambassador to England, the guy on the left.) Or, to say it another way, is that a partly hidden Catholic symbol put there to remind someone that Catholicism iis a hiddent factor, threat, benefit, something?

Cool, isn't it? I wish I knew an early modern art history person to ask. (Does anyoone?)

I also sat a bit with the Arnolfini Portrait. I'm linking to Wikipedia here, because it's got a close up of the chandeleer, and it's fascinating that there's one candle only burning in the chandeleer. You wouldn't think that would provide much light, would you? Is there an uglier portrait sitter than Mr. Arnolfini there? Seriously?

And that was my day. I had a lovely time, mostly looking at early modern stuff, because I really like potraits of people I've heard of. Wriothesley (speaking of pronunciation confusion!) looks like a courtier, indeed. I don't quite know what his breastplate is doing floating there by his leg, but it sort of fits my idea of an obnoxious courtier. (I know, he was Shakespeare's patron, but seriously, he looks like a fop.)

Sir Philip Sidney could step right out of his picture and be a modern young man. (There are a lot of young men these days with that front swoop bit sticking up on their hair.) Of course, he could only dress that way in some clubs these days.

Nothing Says Empire Quite Like...

.

The British Museum. And that's where I spent my day today.

It's like walking into my art history book, the early one. There's the Rosetta Stone. And the Parthenon Marbles. And Egyptian art. It's truly overwhelming. There's just so much there that it's hard to imagine as you move from room to room.

I went thinking that the things I most wanted to see were the Parthenon Marbles and the Sutton Hoo hoard. Because of the layout, you walk through a fair bit of exciting stuff before you get to either. The first thing I saw that really got me was the Rosetta Stone. I guess I didn't realize it was there, but it was. And thinking about how it was used to figure out heiroglyphs and stuff, it just blew me away. And then, of course, I laughed inside thinking about the joke about the American who wants everything in English because if it was good enough for Jesus... you know, that one.

I read the side card description and thought about all those orientalists, French and English especially, who'd studied all sorts of ancient languages, and how few people I know who speak more than three languages. (I can claim two only.) But those orientalists learned amazing ancient languages.

I saw these amazing Assyrian bas reliefs. There were two walls of a lion hunt. The first wall was going on the hunt; the second was coming back. Apparently, the lion hunt was quite successful (unless you're a lion, in which case they were horrid), because the men were carrying all sorts of lions. Look at this one on the left. Isn't the detail of his tongue sticking out just amazing?

And this one. He's all wounded, and spewing blood or something, and it's horrific, but also beautiful. I just looked and looked at these bas reliefs, and the details made me wish I could touch them and all, because there was something so immediate about them. (But of course, I didn't, so I didn't get arrested. And that's good.)

It just amazes me that you're allowed to take photos in the museum. And they didn't even have flash rules. (But I mostly went without flash, since the flash tends to wash out the shadows on this sort of thing, and then you can't see it really well.)

Finally, I reached the Parthenon Marbles. And I'm sad to say, they just aren't as wonderful as they are in pictures, especially of pictures set in the context of the Parthenon itself. So I was a bit disappointed (but still, the Assyrian lions!).

I felt sort of the same about the Sutton Hoo hoard, alas. And I didn't get to see the round reading room, because it's used as an exhibit room right now, for an exhibit of medieval relics, and so is covered up. I know! But still, Assyrian lions!

And there were mummies, too. Mummies sort of weird me out. I almost get sick thinking about people using "mummy" as medicine back in early modern times. Bleach!

Something I notice at museums: I admit I take tons of pictures, but only of stuff I think is really cool. I don't get people who walk by, take a picture without even looking, and then do the same, again and again.

I love this sort of library room. It's like a fantasy library to me, though probably not especially convenient.

Where I Went Today

Amazing. I knew some of the history about Inigo Jones (and really, is there a better name?) designing it, and such. But I hadn't realized that Charles I was executed right in front. Lots of history here. They have a great audio guide. And of course, the building is just beautiful, stunning.

I got a late start this morning because of the laundry. I woke up early, and went down about 5am, and couldn't get the washing machine to work. I'd already loaded my laundry in, though. Then I saw the sign that said the machine's shut off from 10:30pm to 6am. So I went back up, and down again at 6pm. I tried several times, and then decided I was SOL, and then wondered if there's a seasonal time change, and if I was somehow caught up in that. So I went back down at 7am, and within a few minutes, I got it to work! But then I noticed that the sign says it takes a minimum of two hours (TWO HOURS, PEOPLE!) to run the wash machine. So I went back up, and came down later to put it in the dryer, which also took its sweet time. And then it was time to forage for lunch and go explore.

I'd planned to go to the Banqueting Hall and then on to the National Portrait Gallery, but I took longer in the Banqueting Hall than I'd thought I would (and it was worth every minute!), and got waylaid by the Horse Guards museum on the way, and had to go in. (I admire horses a lot. What can I say.)

Buckingham Palace

Another day, more art. And I say that with a smile.

I spent much of the day using my "Royal Day" pass to the Queen's Gallery, the Royal Mews (horsies!), and Buckingham Palce.

There was a gorgeous Dutch landscapes exhibit at the Gallery, and it was, well, gorgeous.

The Mews were cool. I tend to like horse stuff a lot, so that's that.

Buckingham Palace was big, really big. Some of the rooms are absolutely beautiful. The music room actually looks welcoming, in an 18th century way. I could imagine actually being happy listening to music there.

There were two special exhibits. One, the wedding dress. I'm sure you've all heard about that. It was as elaborate and beautiful in person as on TV, though the disembodiedness of it was strange.

And then there was a Faberge collection. Holy cow, there are some beautiful, amazing pieces. And then you look at when they were collected, some of them. The ones collected after the Russian revolution, there must be a story behind each of them, I bet. And also, the ones collected in the period before WWII, during what in the US was a depression. It's hard to imagine the amount of money spent on a little, tiny, decorative object when so many people were having such a hard time just getting by.

I've been trying to do my laundry since I got home. It's two and a half flights (yes, I know, that doesn't make sense) to the basement, and I've been going up and down, down and up carrying my load of laundry, but each time, the washer has been full and on. Except this time, there was a woman just loading it. I wanted to beg her to let me put mine in instead.

Why is it that other people dare to want to do their laundy at a time that inconveniences ME?

So now I have to decide: stay up and put mine in at about 10pm, and then stay awake to put it in the dryer and pull it out. Or go to bed early, and hope to sleep quickly so that I wake early and get it done then. I think the latter.

Jet lag is causing me sleeping weirdness. I can't seem to get sleepy and fall asleep between, say, 7pm and 2am. And that's meant going to sleep at 2am or so, and waking up later than I'd like to get a start on the day. But I think it's caught up with me, because I'm pretty sleepy now, at 8:30 about, and if I go to sleep soon, it will feel great. And I'll wake early.

ps. This is from a gate at Green Park, right near the big Buckingham Palace gates. This isn't a great picture, but how come there's a bison and a sort of gargoyly face on this gate?

Thanks to the internet, an answer! It's the Canada Gate, a gift from Canada for the memorial for Queen Victoria!

Here's another view, slightly brighter.

Westminster Abbey

For the first two days here, I'd bought a 48 hour ticket to the Big Bus Tour thingy. The idea is that there are three bus lines (a lot of overlap between the two I rode on). The blue line runs a big loop, and plays information on tapes. The red line runs much of the blue line loop, but has live commentors (who were LOTS of fun when I heard them). I don't know about the other line, because I never got to it. The ticket also included the boat ride I took yesterday (which is why I went then).

The bus was a GREAT way for me to get the beginnings of my bearings, for sure. Today was my first day totally travelling by subway, and it's complicated because I'm near the Paddington Station, which is normally served by the Bakerloo line, the Circle line, the district line, and um, er... something else?

But, from now until the end of August, the Circle and District line parts are closed here. So I'm basically learning alternative routes. I AM learning, though! The construction is part of the huge effort to get everything ready for the London Olympics in 2012. And I have to say, from what I've seen, they're really working hard on the infrastructure.

Today I went to Westminster Abbey. It was, amazing. Totally amazing. I didn't take pictures inside, because you're not allowed to, but... did I mention, amazing? The best parts: when I went in, one of the docent folks told me that there would be a service in the King Edward the Confessor chapel, and since that's normally closed except for worship, I might be interested. I was. So I went. And there I was, sitting with Edward the Confessor, Edward Longshanks, Edward III, Richard II, Henry V. Pretty amazing place, imagine. I'm not a big monarchist, but these, these were some powerful folks.

The priest was really friendly, and we chatted a bit after, and she suggested I go to visit the Chapel of St Faith. She said it's open for private prayer, but it's fine to go in and sit, just open the door. So, I continued on my way, thinking to keep my eyes open for it.

I saw the tomb of Henry Cary (or Carey), Lord Hunsdon. If you're a Shakespeare type, you're nodding. If not, you maybe haven't heard of him, but he was the Lord Chamberlain of Queen Elizabeth I. The Lord Chamberlain was one of the three most important officials in the Elizabethan household court; basically, he controlled who got in for an appointment, or who got an appointment in the first place, and when, etc. But that's not why he's important to people like me. Nope. Remember you've heard of Shakespeare's playing company, the King's Men, right? But before there was a King of England in 1603, and the law was changed so that only members of the Royal family could sponsor a playing company, there was the Lord Chamberlain's Men! So that's a cool connection.

Also very cool: I learned that Carey was Elizabeth I's cousin! His Mom was Anne Boleyn's sister, Mary. (And since H8 might have had relations with Mary, Carey might have been even more closely related to Elizabeth.)

I saw Poet's corner, and touched Chaucer's tomb and Spenser's (which, I read, was originally put up by Anne Clifford, when she was the Countess of Dorset! Yes, THE Anne Clifford), and well, that was pretty amazing, very moving.

I can't say why, but it was. And shortly after that was when I saw the door to St. Faith's Chapel. So I warily opened it, and went in, and sat down. I was the only person in there for a while, and then people came in, and then left, and I closed the door again, and just sat in the quiet. It was, well, just calming and lovely, sitting in the very simple, quiet chapel, a few feet from the hustle and bustle. I was sort of surprised to see something so quiet and relatively uncluttered and unadorned.

And then I went on, looking at more of the Abbey

I was interested in seeing monuments and such to some fairly minor folks, and then thought to ask about some really important but minor folks. Mostly, I was thinking of Henry, the older son of James I, who died as a kid, and also Arthur, the older son of Henry VII (yes, Henry VIII had a big brother), who also died as a kid. So I asked one of the docent folks. He had this little book about where people are buried, and figured out that Arthur was buried in Worcestor Cathedral, but couldn't figure out Henry. Oh well. (He didn't quite believe me at first that Henry VIII had an older brother, but then he found him listed.)

Then, I was taking a break for water at the cafe, and there was that same book! So, of course, you know how I feel about dead guys! I bought it, and I was able to find Henry, and he was buried in the chapel of Henry VII, along with Elizebeth, the Queen of Bohemia (James I's daughter), and a whole bunch of other folks. They're all in the floor in the chapel near Mary Stuart and Margaret Beaufort. I backtracked to visit. I'm probably the only person who noticed that little marker all day, and made anything of it.

Finally, I made my way around the nave, and saw Sir Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin. (I saw Handel in Poet's corner, too). But then I was surprised to see Edward Elgar right near them (it's a memorial, and not his grave site). I don't know, it was weirdly moving, maybe because I don't think of him as a really dead guy? And I do like his music.

And that was my day!

I've been thinking about what I found most moving. I mean, I expected, Elizabeth I to be, but it wasn't. Nor were any of the kings, really, though I enjoyed the service in the Edward the Confessor Chapel, and was amazed to be surrounded by so many kings. And, of course, I couldn't help but think about that moment in Henry V where Henry talks about having Richard II reinterred with great ceremony, and there I was at the tomb he refers to.

Chaucer and Spenser were moving. I touched the monument of each. I hope that's okay. (At least I wasn't walking over them.) And Darwin and Newton. And Elgar. And, of course, just the sheer overwhelming number of tombs and monuments. I kept trying to figure out the Latin inscriptions, especially for the medieval looking monuments/tombs, the ones that look like a flattened knight. (I finally remembered that "miles" means "knight" and that helped. Because otherwise, these guys were all sharing the same name.)

For three days, it's been pretty darned incredible! I have an appointment at Buckingham Palace tomorrow. (A ticket appointment; seriously, what would I even have to say to Elizabeth II?) (That would be a good contest! I could send the winner a postcard! What could I possibly say to E2?)

Wish me a good night's sleep!

Jumping History

Yesterday, I was at the Tower of London, the oldest tower (the White Tower) of which was built "by" (why do we use "by" for someone who gave an order and probably didn't do a bit of the labor?) William the Conqueror after the Norman invasion.* But even that was recent compared to the wall built by the Romans around Lundinium in the area.

Today, I finished up the two day Big Bus tour of London ticket by getting on a barge thing on the Thames and riding up to Greenwhich. I got to see the New Globe from the river, which was a far better view than I'd had before. It took longer than I'd thought it would, so I revised my plans a bit from the Westminster Cathedral (which you totally know is high on my list, but which I expect to take a long time at) to something a bit more modest, the Cabinet War Roomwhere Churchill's cabinet had done their war work, especially during the Battle of Britain and then under the rocket attacks.

So there's the connecting theme, in a way: invasion, successful compared to invasion, only threatened. (Horribly threatened, though.)

I'm not a big war buff, not of any war, but the War Cabinet Rooms were fascinating. I can't imagine working there while bombs and such went off above. The Churchill museum is in the same place, part of the underground complex, and also pretty darned interesting. They had a bunch of the medals he'd been awarded. Now, you know me; I want to have seen his George (go RedCrosse!), but it wasn't there.

I'm downloading a bird guide for Britain now, hoping I can get a clue about some of the birds I've seen. I've seen at least two gulls, starlings, some pigeons, and a cormorant, but not much else yet. (The gulls, compared to, say, SF Bay, seem sparse.)

*Does everyone else use jokes about a bunch of guys named Norman to try to get students to remember 1066? Just me?

A Second Day in Shakespearelandia!

And it was a good one, in all sorts of ways.

Most important, I got to have a blogger-meet-up lunch with Susan! It was fun, and really nice to have a good lunch and chat with her. (Hi Susan!)

We met at the British Library, so I got there a bit early and saw the science fiction exhibition, and also the gallery with the Magna Carta and a First Folio. (Life is good!) (Our department is supposed to move to a new building in a few years; my fantasy is looking like the King's Library right now.

After lunch, I went to the Tower of London, which was very fun. I took one of the guided tours by a Yeoman Warder of the Tower; he was one of those people who obviously loves teaching and history, and gave a really fun, interesting tour. I saw the crown jewels, which were sparkly, but I was way more into the armor and stuff. I did learn why all the jewels and ornamental stuff (except for one salt thingy) were from 1661 or after; the Warder told me that Cromwell had had earlier stuff melted down and sold because the government needed money. Interesting!

I didn't get to see everything, but it was great, and I'm hoping to return.

And now, to bed!

Arrival

I'm here, here in Shakespearelandia!

I got here this morning, and found my way to the nearest station, and then walked to where I'm staying. I've got a nice little place, which seems fine.

I did notice immediately, that a LOT of people smoke here. Maybe I just don't notice at home, but it's noticable here.

I didn't sleep a lot or well on the plane, but I did have my contacts out for a while. I wear hard contacts, and my eyes get itchy and nasty if they're in more than about 20 hours at a time.

I also tend to get a weird motion-sicky feeling after I've been driving, on a boat, or flying for more than about 10 hours.

Thus, I was tired, and I decided to nap for a bit. I woke up, feeling MUCH better, about 2pm, and went out to see what I could see. Happily, there's a "Big Bus" tour thing between my place and the station (so I'd seen it on the way here), so I took the advice I got before, bought myself a ticket, and hopped on. I just rode around and saw things and listened to the taped information for the full circle, which took about 3 hours. Happily, the weather was lovely, not too warm or cold, and not raining.

I was probably more excited than most to go by the Marble Gate, right near what used to by Tyburn (where they hanged folks in early modern England). I admit to being fascinated by the folks who got branded with a T so that they couldn't use benefit of clergy again.

I saw the Tower! Westmister Abbey! The Thames!

Speaking of the Thames. I'm guessing most people aren't as naive as I am, but I was an adult before I realized that "Thames" is pronounced "Tems." There are lots of other words that seem weirdly spelled to many Americans, Gloucester, Worcestershire, and so on.

So as I was riding the bus and listening, it took me more than a moment to connect what I saw as "Grosvenor" with what I heard as "Gruvner." I don't think I've ever said the word aloud, though, so I at least I wasn't publicly shamed. (Until now.)

I got myself some fish and chips on the way home (because I'm just that much of a tourist!). I have to say, if you haven't had more than a protein bar since the plane ride, then fish and chips tastes incredibly, wonderfully yummy!

I'm almost ready to head to bed again.

Last Minute

I leave for Shakespearelandia tomorrow!

I've never been there before, so I'm super excited, and on edge. I doubt I'll sleep tonight. If you have ideas of what I should do, please post them!

I'm mostly packed except for bathroom stuff and stuff I'll wash tonight.

Thank goodness for good friends.

And at the same time as I'm utterly excited, I'm also horrified by what happened in Norway.

And glad for Evans, sad for Schleck. Both are amazing riders (as are others who bike at that level).

And frustrated by politicians. It's time to raise taxes, folks, and pay for our education system, infrastructure, and social services. And while we're at it, can we get ourselves out of wars?

Packing

The worst thing about packing is trying on pants to find some that fit not too tightly and aren't really old and tattered.

Bleargh!

Single Minded

I went to a friend's house for a Tour breakfast get-together, and it was great. The past few stages have just been amazing riding.

As I drove home, I merged onto the freeway ahead of a light blue/teal truck, and thought, "Astana." And then I laughed at myself, until a red truck came up, and I thought, "Cofidis."

It makes me want to get a team color car!

Community

I bike on Wednesday afternoons with a group of other women. They're good folks, friendly and good company on a ride.

Earlier this week, B emailed me about doing a short ride this week and then having a casual get together at her place. And, despite the horrid heat, that's what we did today.

It means a lot to me, more than I can easily articulate, to have this community, and to have them care enough to ride on a hot day and get together after to relax, eat, drink, and chat.

Half an Hour

It's been a tad warm this week, so I've resorted (with some friends) to the campus pool for some easy laps for exercise. I'm one of those people who had basic swimming lessons as a kid, and is happy to swim, but I don't swim fast or efficiently. I still love the side stroke, which probably isn't even an official stroke, but is relaxing and comfortable for me.

Why is it, then, that a half an hour lazily swimming laps makes me ravenous, way more than an hour playing outside (running-ish) or several hours biking?

(The campus pool requires some strategy: dinner time is ideal for people like me. Later, and the pool is filled with whatever sports camp campers are staying on campus, usually high school age kids. If they're female, they're loud at high pitches. If male, loud at a lower pitch.)

Less Than a Week Now

Things are coming together, and not.

I have a couple pairs of shorts that I love. They're unfashionable as all get out, but comfy, with pockets, and cool. They have mesh in the pockets, so when you get dunked kayaking or whatever, the water drains quickly. Unfortunately, the mesh got holes in places, because I tend to put my car keys in the front pocket, and change in the other.

So today, I went to the fabric store and asked for advice, and the woman there recommended some iron-on patches. You can see where this is going, right? I put a bigger hole in one of the nylon pockets with the iron than had been there before. And, how is it that my body heat trying to cut patches can make the patches stick together, but an iron not quite hot enough to melt nylon can't? I think I finally succeeded, and I hope the patches last a while.

I'm trying to eat down the stuff in my freezer, so that the housesitter can fill it with his own stuff. (Though he's welcome to eat whatever I've left, too.) It's educational to realize that I have several bags of frozen veggie things that have been there a while, because I keep intending to eat more veggies, but then don't eat as much as I intended to, and then forget.

A semester is both a long time, and not at all much time. When you're figuring out stuff, it seems like there's so much to take care of and figure out. And it seems like there's so much happening here that I'll miss. But when I come back, it seems like I haven't been gone more than a tiny bit of time. Packing for distinct seasons takes some thought, I've noticed.

I need to put together the books I'm taking, and figure out what to do with them packing-wise. Books get heavy fast.

I need to send in a picture and a short bio. I found a picture that's less horrible than most, but I hate writing bios. I wish I could just write a totally fictional bio about being a pumpkin rancher or something.

Heck, we should all figure out the best fictional bio to write!


PS. Today is a rest day on the Tour. I'm now officially rooting for Thomas Voeckler all the way. Wouldn't that be fun!

Unexpectedly Liberating

I was busy in the office for a while today, sorting out teaching notes to have made into pdfs (rather than taking stacks of paper notes with me), and I had some extra time before I could do go to the rec center to turn back the kayak I rented the other day. So I started sorting through some of my course and grade files.

There's no reason I need grade files from during my grad school times, right? I thought not. Nor from my previous job? Recycle! (I do go through and pull off paperclips, because it's not that bad and then we don't have to buy as many new ones.)

And committee meeting stuff! I got rid of tons of that from previous years. (The official meeting notes are always available on line, and more reliable than anything I would have written.)

It felt amazingly liberating and good. I think I got rid of a good foot of files.

It actually felt like I accomplished something, even though it wasn't something that had to be done before I left. (I also accomplished some of those things, too.)

Baby Artichoke

I'm excited! I doubt I'll get to eat it before I leave, but someone will!

Linguists Have Fun and a Question

The folks over at the Language Log are having a lot of fun with the latest XKCD comic.

***

An unrelated question: does anyone else see a resemblance between pictures of Michael Palin as a young man and Frank Schleck? No? Only me?

32 and a Half Miles

I wasn't going to go that far, but that's what happened. I was riding one of my favorite roads, to the east of my little city, on the side of a lake. And I felt good, really good. So I decided to go all the way around the lake.

I only had one water bottle, but there's a bar and a nature center (not the same) about midway, and I was pretty darned sure I could get water at either, or if not, could ride a couple miles out of my way to a small town and get water (or other stuff) at a gas station.

Stopping for water at bars amuses me. There were four people sitting at the bar, just past midday, and a kid climbing around stuff to the side, and the barkeep, who was kind enough to give me ice and cold water. The people in the bar were friendly in that way that people are friendly when they think you're a bit crazy, but harmless. It's cool in the bar, but I'm always really glad to get out of the smokiness. (I don't know why they're so smoky, since there's a no-smoking law, I thought?)

I also stopped at the nature center, a bit further on, because I realized that a bathroom break would be nice. The guy behind the desk was equally friendly, but in the way that seemed like he thought it's a great idea to be out playing on one's bike rather than a bit crazy.

And now I'm more tuckered than I should be. I was slow. I think I should have taken some real food, or at least eaten a second packet of sports bean things. But I'm not quite sure why I'm feeling more tuckered than I expected. I'm guessing: 1) I'm not in as good a shape as I thought, or as I've typically been at this point in the summer, or 2) I didn't eat enough before I left. (I'm guessing if that's the case, I should feel better pretty quickly since I had a yummy peanut butter sandwich on homemade bread.)

Countdown: Two Weeks

I need to buy a rolling suitcase. Any suggestions, esp re size? (This is for a checked bag, not a carry on.) What size? Any brands stand out (for good or not)?

Except for packing sorts of stuff, and buying some stuff (socks, bras), my preparation is coming along. I need to call my credit card company and let them know I'll be using the card elsewhere, and also the debit card folks.

There's GOT to be an ATM at the airport, right, so that I can get pounds?

I tend to focus on and fret about things that aren't worth the energy. Right now, I'm sort of fretting about being basically alone for a month in the big city and surrounds. Logically, I know I'll be fine, but I'm weirdly fretting about that and the money.

The Tour this year has been especially dangerous, it seems, but the car hitting a rider (and knocking him into another) was especially bad.

The winner of the yellow jersey (Thomas Voeckler) today was amazing, as was the stage winner (Luis-Leon Sanchez), and the other guy up with them (Sandy Casar). Voeckler has over a minute and a half on the next man in the general competition (Sanchez), which must mean he has four minutes plus over Contador? Does that push Contador pretty much out of the competition?

I'm off to have a bike ride, and hope to avoid contact with cars and asphalt. Rubber on the downside, blood on the inside. /nod

Not to Worry

I was talking to a friend/colleague, C, the other day, and was happy to note that since I'll be away, I can't possibly be on any search committee next year. But C noted that what with the budget stuff, we might not learn that we're allowed to do a search until way late, so I might get drafted anyway.

We've had some folks leave unexpectedly. One was close to retirement, and decided it was time, another moved to be closer to family, and another moved to follow a partner's employment. Things are going to be a bit tight in several ways this coming year, but especially in terms of some fairly specific classes.

The state system here has been getting weaker and weaker at least since I've been here. I expect a few of my junior colleagues to be on the market this fall, hoping to leave the sinking ship (and rightly so).

Noise

One of the things I enjoy about biking (and running) is that it's mostly pretty quiet. There's the noise of the occasional car, and the whir of my tires on the road surface, but mostly, it's pretty quiet.

I was watching the stage of the Tour today, and it struck me how loud it must be: there are the occasional crowds (or more than occasional, depending on the area and such), but more than that, the motorcycles filming, the helicopter, the team and other cars. And the whir of a hundred tires, even, must be fairly loud.

I'm guessing that most of the riding that pro riders do must be fairly quiet (unless they're being motorpaced). My guess is that mostly they go out with another or a couple other pros and ride their 4-7 hours. (I'm sure they also do other stuff, but mostly, I think they ride a lot and a lot of it alone.)

So I wonder, when a rider starts riding races, if the noise feels overwhelming? Or when they move up from relatively smaller races to bigger races?

I guess it's just as well that I'm not a pro rider, eh? I'll just enjoy myself.

Lemmings and Birds

I've been away, and now I'm pretty stressed about getting ready to go. 20 days and counting. Eep.

While I was away, I played a bit of "Angry Birds." It's fun, and reminded me a lot of "Lemmings," which was one of the great games of all time. They both have little game sections in which you practice and learn to repeat some basic game skill(s) and then use them to solve problems based on screen geography and such. The only downside to messing up is that you repeat the level (well, and with Lemmings, you got that great splatting sound sometimes). And when you succeed, you move up to a new level with a bit more difficult problem or set of problems.

They both have somewhat cute graphics, a basic, easy to learn game play, and they both allow you to be creative with the game play to solve whatever problem(s) the level uses.

Except Lemmings was cuter.