While my good friends Billy and Joe are out of town in San Diego, I am watching their little dog, Olivia. Imagine the cutest, most well behaved puppy, and that’s what I’m dogsitting for! Here she is cozied up inside her blankets. Believe me, she is a lot happier than she looks 
I tend to think that adjectives such as “awesome”, “stunning” and “amazing” can be over used in every day conversation. Are burger king fries really “Awesome”? The dictionary definitions of awesome are as follows:
1. inspiring awe: an awesome sight
2. showing or characterized by awe
3. Slang. very impressive: That new white convertible is totally awesome
Even the colloquial slang term insinuates that the subject of the sentence is in fact mildly wonderous, not just the norm. I myself have been known to incorrectly use this terminology from time to time, so let me set the record straight, and tell you about something that I feel is TRULY awesome.
Many of you may be familiar with Eddie Izzard, a transvestite and comedian from the UK, who has recently dipped his toe in the acting waters. He’s a normal looking bloke (sans make up) and to look at him, you would think nothing out of the ordinary.
When I was in the UK recently, I happened to find myself on the tube with nothing to read and therefore picked up a stray free newspaper someone had left behind. Hidden away on page 12 or something was a story that made my eyes pop. Slightly chubby transvestitie Izzard had just completed 43 marathons in 51 days. Yes you read that correctly. That’s a marathon every 1.18 days. For seven weeks. Here’s the route he took around the UK and him finishing the last marathon.
That’s 1,105.6 miles in total. That’s like running from here to Nebraska. All along the way getting blisters the size of dinner plates, losing toenails, improving his time from 10 hours per marathon at the start of the journey to around five by the end of it and raising over 200,000 pounds (around $370,000) for charity. Now that, my friends, is AWESOME!
I finally returned from my travels this week. When I got back to my house there were a few surprise house guests waiting for me….
In case you can’t see in the picture, those are jellow jackets, nasty wasp critters. There were tons of them, all congregated inside my house. I managed to kill 14 on Friday, but there were still a ton left to kill when I got back yesterday. I couldn’t attack them while they were in a swarm, so I had to wait and pick the lone ones off!! Here’s the wasp graveyard!
This post is dedicated to my very good friend Anna, and her boyfriend, Mark, and their wonderful new bundle of baby joy Harrison Richard Symonds Clifford. Born on 30th Spetember, weighting 8lbs something or other, he is just edible! Here he is enjoying a cuddle with Mum, who looks fabulous, especially considering little Harrison gave her quite a painful, albeit blessedly short, labour. Congratulations on your wonderful new boy Anna!!
A visit to Oxford and my sister brought us plenty of history and quirks. Zoe lives in Littlemore, which is about a 45 minute walk down the river to the city centre. We strolled into the city, and along the way we saw several of these boathouses. Now when I think boathouse, I think kind of damp, old, delapidated buildings with a few musty boats in them. Not here. These boat houses for the Oxford College crews are brand spanking new, with a modern air and are all equipped with their own state-of-the-art gyms. We didn’t see the boats, they were securely squirreled away under lock and key.
En route we passed a pub called the Bear, a cute old place near to Christchurch College which dates back to 1242. Part of the charm of the place was its tradition of cutting snippets of the neckties off everyone who goes in (I suppose usually male) in exchange for a pint of beer. A lot of these were taken from famous people. They are then mounted in glass cases on the walls and ceiling of the pub.
We also visited the Bodleian Library, which was amazing and an absolute must for any visit to Oxford. This library is one of the six legal deposit libraries in the UK, meaning that they are legally entitled to one copy of every book published in this country. The collection of books here dates back to 1435, when the books had to be chained to the shelves to prevent anyone stealing them. The library is also home to Convocation House, which served as a home for the English Parliament during the reign of Charles II, when parliament could not be held in London. Here are Zoe and I overseeing proceedings from the speakers chair.
We also paid a visit to the most famous of the Oxford Colleges, Christchurch. A gorgeous building, and made all the better by the fact that having Zoe with us (who works for Oxford University) allowed us to enter for free. Christchurch was a location for the Harry Potter films, and its great hall was the inspiration for the great hall at Hogwarts. The tables were all set for dinner when we visited. A very imposing room, as you walk around you feel the sheer weight of history upon you. And the sheer weight of the dishes needed to feed all the students and staff every day!
You would think that renewing something that you already have, while upgrading it, should be easy. For example, if you have a small car and you want a big car- you head down to the dealership and hey presto, new bigger car. The same cannot be said of renewing one’s work visa. I’m not going to bore everyone with the sordid details, suffice to say, it’s been a very long, complicated, drawn out, frustrating and down right irritating process. 15 forms filled in and one international flight missed later, I had an appointment at the Embassy in London, instead of one at the Ottawa embassy (but that’s part of the long, drawn out bit). So last Friday I trundled to the US Embassy in London, with my sister in tow, with no liquids, weapons, electric key fobs, torches, iPods, mobile phones or any of the other items on the endless list of paraphernalia one was not allowed to bring to one’s “interview” about my person. I made it through the 4 (yes 4) checkpoints to admit me entry to the building complex, which was heavily guarded by police armed with automatic weapons. Unfortunately, this was only to sit for 3 and a half hours, during which time some moronic idiot went through my 15 forms for about 30 seconds, I was fingerprinted twice (because I gained a whole new set of fingerprints in the fifteen minutes between fingerprinting sessions?!?!) and then was told I could go. No “interview” to be seen here. I was told as I left, it would be 3-5 days including this one, until I saw my passport, visa and, essentially my life, again. And thus began the waiting. And waiting. Day 6 and still nothing. So I trawled the US Embassy visa section of their website, only to come across this little nugget of scary information:
“Most administrative processing is resolved within 60 days of application. Applicants are advised when they apply. When administrative processing is required, the timing will vary based on individual circumstances of each case. Therefore, before making inquiries about status of administrative processing, applicants or their representatives will need to wait at least 90 days from the date of interview or submission of supplemental documents, whichever is later.”
Essentially, one has to sit at home, waiting, with no word as to who has your passport (and visa and therefore, life) for 90 DAYS before you can even contact someone about what the hell has become of it (them). Now, I understand the need for extra security, but not even having the means for poor worried visa applicants, sitting at home, waiting (like yours truly), to find out what has happened to their application, is quite frankly appalling. I’m hoping against hope that my visa is not in the “wait 90 day” pile. And I’m sure it won’t be. But I have to feel sorry for those people’s that are. Meanwhile, I’ll just keep on waiting. And maybe when (if) I’m back in the US, I’ll buy a bigger car, just to show how easy it is.
The Tower of London. I visited it when I was really small, about 5 years of age, when some paedophilic Beefeater told me freckles were sexy (gag). I didn’t have high hopes of going back to be honest. I do love history and especially the period the tower is most famous for, Tudor England. However, I was expecting a tourist hell, one that I couldn’t wait to be out of. I was very pleasantly surprised. For a seventeen pound enterance fee we had an entire day of entertainment. Here is one of the aforementioned Beefeaters. They are more formally known as “Yeoman Guards” and are in charge of the tower. To become a Beefeater, one must have served in either the army, Royal Air Force or Royal Marines (not the Navy, apparently the Naval conscripts are drunken louts who never swear allegiance to the crown) for at least 22 years, reached the rank of Sgt. Major and be prepared to move to live permanently inside the Tower with their families. There are 35 Beefeaters in total serving the Tower. They got their interesting name from the rations of meat they used to receive as part of their payment. Jealous onlookers would call them “Beefeaters” as an insult, however the name stuck.
Built in 1078, the Tower has been used for imprisonment, torture, excecutions, as a Royal residence, as a mint for making coins and more recently as a tourist attraction. Some of the most famous prisoners include 4 Queens of Enlgand, Queen Anne Boleyn, Queen Catherine Howard, Lady Jane Grey and Queen Elizabeth I, with the latter being the only one to leave the Tower with her head in tact. All these Royal visitors to the Tower would enter by the river Thames, through “Traitor’s Gate”, mainly to protect them from angry crowds, would be assassins or possible rescuers. Inside the tower is a glass monument erected to commemorate those Queens that were beheaded there, as well as a couple of other members of the Royal family to be killed inside the Tower.
The Tower is choc full of old legends, probably the most famous of which is the necessity for ravens to live there. It was prophesised in the time of Charles II that if the ravens ever left the Tower, the monarchy would fall. Since then, at least 6 ravens have been in residence at all times, are are cared for by a Raven Master. The oldest raven was Jim Crow, who died aged 44. This picture does not do them justice, they are bloody massive!
One of the best things to see at the Tower are the Crown Jewels, which have been kept there since the 14th Century. Unfortunately, no-one is allowed to take pictures inside the massive vault where they are kept (if you’re imagining bulletproof glass chambers, a 4 feet thick metal vault door and the bowels of a stone castle, you’re on the right track), so I’ll just direct you to the Wikipedia site describing them. In short, if you want to be a few feet away from a diamond the size of your fist, this is the place for you. They are kept inside the Jewel House (see below) and although they are visibly guarded by the Queen’s guard, there are many more guards inside. This is apparently the most secure building in the country (world??!).
All in all, a superb day out, well worth the money. I would recommend anyone visiting London go and see it.
As a lover of historic buildings, I dragged Chris along to Warwick Castle, one of my particular favourites, which as you can see, he might have regretted! I love this place, despite its slight tendency towards being a tourist trap. Originally built in the 11th century by William the Conqueror, Warwick has seen many changes since then, but remains one of Britain’s oldest and most impressive castles. To obtain the wonderful views from the ramparts, we had to climb 530 steep stairs, it was the medieval version of step aerobics. “Feel the burn”! One of the best things they do at Warwick today, is the demonstrations of medieval fighting techniques such as archery and trebuchet.
The archer was amazing- I can’t do his skills justice with words. He shot arrows really fast with both an 80lb and 120lb draw longbow. He also told us some really interesting facts about popular sayings/gestures originating with archery. There’s the obvious two fingered salute, made famous by the English archers at the battle of Agincourt, and the less obvious thumbs up sign, which originated from each longbowman signaling to his commanding officer that his “bracing distance” (the distance between his bow and the string at the centre of the longbow) was correct i.e. thedistance from the edge of his palm to the tip of his thumb when giving a thumbs up. The origins of the term “nocking on” (starting work) and “nocking off” (finishing work) can be traced back to the longbowmen too, to “nock on” was a command given to signify the arrow should be notched into the bow, ready to fire. The arrows were fletched to have differing lengths of flights, one longer “cock feather” and two shorter feathers. The arrow had to be fired with the cock feather away from the bow, otherwise it would catch on the wood and go off target, which was a calamity known as a cock-up, which is a common phrase in colloquial English nowadays.
Warwick Castle gave Chris a chance to try his hand with a longsword. Look at him, happy as a pig in muck!
I think his favourite part of our trip though, was seeing the death mask of Oliver Cromwell. Death masks were part of the mourning ritual when someone important died, and this one was moulded on the Lord Protector soon after he died in 1658. It’s kind of eerie thinking this was how he looked.
All in all, great day out…well worth the steep entrance fee. And we learned some interesting facts too!
We have a rule in our friendship group that boyfriends are not accepted as such until they have passed the “Gainsborough Girls” test. That is to say they have met all of our friends from Uni. I figured Chris might as well be subjected to this sooner rather than later, so we went to Leicester to meet up with them all and associated partners. I think the 120 decibel scream that erupted when we all saw each other was a little terrifying for him, but otherwise he coped admirably. Here’s the panel he was being judged by…(L-R) Anna, baby Will, me, Pippa, Callie, Pina and Jenna.
The day started with a bracing walk through Bradgate Park. We saw a few cool sights…
The house is Bradgate House, once the home of Lady Jane Grey. She was niece to King Henry VIII and held the throne of England for only 9 days following the death of Henry’s son Edward VI, before she was overthrown by Mary’s supporters and beheaded. The ruins of the house are very interesting, but have not stood the test of time well. We all stopped for a nice lunch at the cafe in Bradgate Park.
In the evening we met up with more friends, this time The Lowry family, Jo, Tom and Ian. We used to tease Tom when he was about 8 and we firsdt met Jo and Ian. He’s now 18. Time flies!!!
A great weekend had by all. I hope Chris passed the Gainsborough test!
This week Chris and I embarked on our first foray across the pond to visit the UK. Awaiting us after… (for me) a four hour drive, a 2 hour drive, a 1 hour train ride, a 5 minute tram ride, a 3 hour wait, a 7 hour plane journey, a 1 hour tube followed by 2 hour train ride and finally a 1.5 hour car journey…were home and my parents. I don’t think I have ever been happier to be home!
For our first couple of days, we have been based at my parents near Lincoln. On Friday we visited Lincoln Cathedral, and even though I have been before I have to say, it’s really awe inspiring. The original cathedral was ordered to be built in 1072, however was almost completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1175. Following this, the present building was built on the same site and for some years (1300-1549), was the tallest building in the world, several feet taller than the pyramids in Egypt.
Although the outside is really impressive, it’s not until you walk into the cathedral that the sight takes your breath away. It’s amazing. Here is a view of the gothic vaulted ceiling of the nave and one of the stained glass windows dating back hundreds of years, and I think you’ll agree its pretty spectacular. You might even recognise it from the movie “The daVinci Code” as it was filmed here.
Around the back of the cathedral is a little hut with a witch hunting device called the “whispering hole”. The idea is that a woman would put her finger into the hole, and if the animal inside the hut bit it off then she was not considered a witch. If however, nothing bit off her finger, she was definitely a witch and was usually hung or burned for witchcraft. Talk about harsh luck. I tested out the theory of the whispering hole myself, and nothing was bitten off. You can draw your own conclusions from that…
We also had a walk around the town itself, which is really cute- all tudor buildings and cobbled streets. We found some extremely interesting shops too…where I may or may not have bought David a little present
Things are a little strange in Lincoln though- things that you think would be expensive are not and vice versa. Here the tea is precious and the faggots are really cheap!!!
It’s not just the food names that make me chuckle. We drove through a town called Spital-on-the-Street today, and saw a really interesting named pub when we were out for dinner:
With all the witches, fighting cocks, faggots and whiskey- I think Chris is having a great time!! Hope to see some of you visiting here in the near future too!
