Merrily, merrily, through the air...

Well, it seems that I am back stateside. My flight left London at 3pm on Saturday, and after an almost 11 hour flight, I arrived at LAX around 7pm (on Saturday as well). The flight went off without a hitch. The ever-lovely B. rode the Picadilly Line all the way to Heathrow with me to help with my luggage; without her I'm not sure I would have made it to the airport!

Once on the plane I just watched movies (Persuasion, Ocean's Thirteen, and Annie Hall) and dozed. The usual panicked feeling I have whilst on planes wasn't really there. I felt so satisfied with my time away that my panic couldn't take hold, which was a wonderful (and very unusual) feeling.

K. has been perfecting our apartment during my absence. All the things we always talk about getting done but never have time for were finished while I was away. Our apartment looks awesome!

Gus has been studiously ignoring me, although he did want his morning pets when I woke up this morning, so apparently he only ignores me unless it messes with his daily schedule.

I'm going to continue writing about my trip for a while, especially about my last few days in London, so keep checking!

In the Bleak Midwinter...

Yesterday the wind came in cold gusts down the street, opening everyone's winter coats to the cold and blowing over red cheeks and fly-away hair. It ceased to be autumnal yesterday, but moved directly onto winter without ado. Today it's back to a nice, brisk autumn temperature, but as I walked down Russell Street to find some last minute gifts for friends and family, I wondered if I just should have stayed at home in my bed.

With much vitamin C and echinacea, I've managed to beat down my cold into something manageable. My head is no longer foggy and I'm not afraid to go near manuscripts anymore, which is nice because it would be a shame to spend these last two days away from manuscripts.

I put in a formal application to see a 'Z-safe' manuscript yesterday. The Z-Safe is where we keep our most precious manuscripts; one has to write to the curator in order to see them (Beowulf is kept there, for example). So today I will be looking at the Old Hall Manuscript, with which I'm working for my dissertation. It's important to me because Henry V probably wrote two of the pieces of music that are preserved in the manuscript. It's also one of the earliest English books filled with music. Much medieval music (especially English music) has been lost because of the change in the Church and because music often was written down on sheets or rolls instead of in proper books. This manuscript is also amazing because it's written over a period of 20 years, so one can see corrections that people made to their own compositions. I'm very excited to spend my afternoon with this manuscript!!

The Sick Girl Speaketh...

Yes, once again, just in time for my 10 hour flight, I have come down with some kind of crud that is making my last week here unpleasant to say the least. It's just a cold, but since I don't have any immunity to colds on this side of the pond, it's making me feel much worse than it should.

So don't be surprised if there are no more updates. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by packing (this is the last night in my dorm - I move into a hotel tomorrow), saying goodbye to all the friends I've made, and trying to get my research sorted out by the time I leave.

A Garden Sunday

Today, I went with a group of colleagues to the Royal Botanic Gardens, otherwise known as Kew Gardens. We got there around 1pm and it stayed rainless (except for a single drop that landed on my nose) our entire stay! The gardens were massive; one could spend an entire day there and not see everything. There were many, many parents with children, and while it was annoying to trip over toddlers at every turn, had I children, I would have been out with them as well. It's not really a proper 'garden,' but a giant park with labeled trees and shrubs everywhere.

I spent a lot of time in the Tropical and Temperate Climate conservatories, originally built in the 19th century. I've always associated conservatories with giant British houses, probably because the only time I encountered them was when I watched Masterpiece Theatre as a young girl. These conservatories are great Victorian structures of hand-blown glass and steel that stand out like space ships in the green habitat. The one on the left houses all the palm trees and tropical plants. One can even climb up a spiral staircase and walk around on a second story balcony to see the tops of the palms at eye level.

It was during our picnic today that I had my first Scotch Egg. Apparently it's traditional picnic food here and meant to be eaten cold. It was quite good, although I only had half since everyone brought more food than we needed. I can imagine that it would be a good and easy snack to bring on a day's walk in the country. I contributed crackers and black olive tapenade, bread, and an interesting goat's milk cheddar.

My two favorite moments of the day came when I caught whiffs of two smells I associate with my life in California. The temperate greenhouse was home to many plants that are in my apartment complex. K. will be loath to find out that there were many examples of the ferns that once shaded our patio. (These ferns shed their spores twice a year all over our patio, creating a fine brown film that got on everything. They are very pretty, but really gross.) Anyway, I was walking down the path and smelled the wonderful scent of jasmine -- the familiar smell of a Los Angeles spring. Where ever I live I will plant jasmine by my patio. There is nothing better than relaxing in the evening to the sweet aroma of those little white flowers. The second smell was the odor of pine trees as we walked along the section of the park dedicated to conifers. I actually hugged the Oregon Douglass Fir, much to the chagrin of my more-proper friends!

Book Review!

Since my computer is kaput, I've been catching up on some of the books I've been meaning to read!

In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex, by Nathaniel Philbrick

This book is all kinds of awesome. It's hard to write a non-fiction book that sings like a page-turner, but Philbrick did it. His prose reminds me of The Devil in the White City, which is another non-fiction book I highly recommend.

This story is all about the Essex a whaleship out of Nantucket who was sunk by an angry sperm whale. Herman Melville used many of the stories about the Essex for Moby Dick and the story became so famous that it's still one of the most popular sea tales.

It's difficult for me to sum up how exciting this book was to read. I finished it in one day because I just couldn't stop reading. I woke up in the middle of the night just so I could read the end! It's a wonderful story written almost perfectly -- it's one of my favorite reads this summer. Philbrick includes one of his sources as an Appendix in the back of his book, which is a fascinating read all in itself. It's a well-researched, rollicking good time! 4.5/5: Shanti!

I met a fool in the forest, a motley fool.

B. and I skipped out a little early from the office and went to see Kenneth Branagh's new film adaptation of As You Like It. It was opening night at the local cinema house and Branagh was doing a Q&A afterwards, so we couldn't resist. As it happened, two of the actors were on hand to introduce the film, Brian Blessed (whom you'll recognize by voice alone, and Adrien Lester.

I should have known from the opening screen that it was going to be wretched. This play is wonderful. The film took out all the poignancy of Rosalind's once-amazing character. In this film she seemed like a simpering Celia instead of a smart and witty Shakespearean character. Branagh built up the beginning of the play (when the Duke is usurped by his brother) so much that apparently there was no time to develop any of the main characters at all. The wonderful thing about this play for me is that Shakespeare seems to be saying that one's love should be one's best friend...that everyone needs masculine and feminine characteristics to be a whole person. There was none of that wonderful awkwardness that this play makes so palpatable when Orlando finds himself opening up to the crossed-dress Rosalind. Some of the best lines of the play (e.g. 'I can live no longer by thinking.') were completely cold. Gah. Where did my Shakespeare go?

Folks, Alfred Molina was Touchstone. Every time he came on screen I wanted to throttle him. This alone should make one run for the hills! (Don't get me wrong, I think he's a very talented actor, but Touchstone, he is not.) Kevin Kline was a wonderful Jaques though -- he stole the show for me.

B. and I were so disappointed that we left before the Q&A. We were far too afraid we'd ask a mean question and be snarky.

Get Your Pedigree in 5 Easy Steps!

Today I needed to get to the Royal College of Arms so that I could look at a manuscript associated with Henry VIII and his court. I was really trepidacious about going since it's one of the last places that grants arms, dispatches royal messages, and generally has an intimidating 'Britishness' of the type I always get mumbly around. But first I had to get to the south of London.

I left with an hour to get there since it was the tail end of rush hour, but the line I needed to take was shut down because of a broken train. If this type of thing happened to me two years I would have immediately started crying, or if not that panicing to the point that I couldn't manage to figure out how to take the tube in the right direction. Today I just got on the next train that took me a littler nearer to my destination until I was there, and only a few minutes late. I am used to the tube more, but I am also so much calmer now that I can actually read maps properly without wanting to rip them up into little tiny pieces.

I arrived at the College without a hitch, met the archivist who was from central casting (big bushy sideburns, little spectacles, mumbly voice that just trails off in the middle of sentences), and managed to ascertain that the person I was hoping wrote the document I'm working with did in fact write it! It was cute, I think I even impressed Mr. Archvist who wanted to know how I was able to get the position I did ("very prestigious, you know," he said). I smiled and told him that I applied, that I have good references, and I enjoyed working in archives. He smiled (more to himself than to me), and said "jolly good." I think I passed the test.

Realization of the Day

Autumn is here.

It didn't take long. Yesterday morning, there was that characteristic nip in the air as I walked out my front door and a few brightly colored leaves swirling about my feet. This morning the nip returned, complete with wind and a little rain. Autumn pulls no punches here -- it stole summer away without a second glance. I guess it's good that I'm leaving in a week since I only have a few sweaters with me. Last night I stayed out late at a party with coworkers, and as I walked home at 10:30pm, I realized that a few months ago, it would have been dusk instead of the dead of night as it was now.

Still, it would be nice to see the new season come in earnest, even if it does mean shorter days, longer scarves, and red leaves swirling at my feet.

Grrr. Argh.

I dropped my computer yesterday and in retaliation my computer isn't starting, so I will be at the whims of the dreaded dorm computer until I return home on Sept. 29th. I'll try and update as much as I can, but entries will probably not be up to my usual standards, to say the least.

I have to say, today is the first day I've felt inexplicably lonely since I got here. It wasn't a fun feeling. I think I'm ready to come home to my family and friends and little grey kitty.

By God and Saint Alban!

After raining for the entire month of July and some of August, the weather here has finally turned sunny in a way that only England can. My friend B. and I took a short train ride to the medieval city of St. Alban's in Hertfordshire. We walked around the city, which has some amazing Tudor buildings like the one on the right. There was a city-wide farmer's market in the city centre, so B. and I picked up some freshly pickled herrings from the fishmonger to go with our lunch of bread and cheese.

Then we made our way to the Cathedral, which boasts some of the biggest remaining English wall paintings (from the 13th century!), which are still visible. We spent a few hours wandering around the Cathedral, which has served as a hub for so much medieval history. The Magna Carta was first read at St. Albans; Matthew Paris, a famous medieval illuminator lived in the Abbey; the Peasant's Revolt in 1381 was led in part by men from St. Albans. To say nothing of Saint Alban himself!

After our tour of the city, we started our 10 mile walk, which was the main reason we visited St. Albans in the first place! Our walk took us through the forest outside of St. Albans and through the property of a manor house and to the ruins of Old Gorhambury House where Sir Francis Bacon lived and Queen Elizabeth I visited. We sampled some of the best blackberries I've had since I've been here (yum!) and saw many wild pheasants and a whole herd of black sheep!

It was a long, but satisfying day that ended with a big group of friends meeting at a local Ethiopian place for a veritable feast!

A Big Realization

I think I've figured out why I didn't like Notre Dame Cathedral. I went to Westminster Abbey today to do research for my dissertation. Part of a chapter will (hopefully) be about the Abbey, but I've been really trepidatious about braving the summer crowds so I can do my research. When one steps out of the tube stations that surround Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, and the Abbey, one is immediately accosted by tour groups crowding the sidewalks, people taking photographs of themselves with Big Ben as a backdrop, and general rudeness that overtakes people when they need to see the coveted tourist locale that they have witnessed in countless postcards, paintings, and movies. Today, as I wandered towards Westminster Abbey, I realized that this part of London is incredibly beautiful, but I doubt it the bumbling tour groups noticed as they listened to their yelling guides waving their colored banners to keep all their ducks in a row (or roughly amoeba-shaped glob, rather).

I bought by ticket and walked up to information, ready for them to tell me that they didn't care I was working on my doctoral thesis and send me on my merry way. "Is it okay if I take notes while I'm here? I'm working on my thesis and I'd like to see Henry's chapel," I told the worn-out lady and the bursar who stood next to her--batting my eyes the whole while. Sadly, she told me that nobody gets to see the chapel at all. I think that she felt a little sorry when she saw my crestfallen face. I really was upset; I hadn't realized that the chapel was off limits.

Then the bursar chimed in and told me he'd take me! So I had my own personal tour of most of the king's tombs. Usually one is only allowed to walk along the outside of the tomb area and stare up at all of them, but I was able to get up close to all of them away from prying eyes. The bursar was great: we exchanged information about the tombs and he took me up the spiral staircase to Henry's chapel. If you're down below, you don't realize that there's another level at that point which houses a chapel. It was quiet and beautiful. The sun was just coming in the windows and reflected off the brass effigies. The bursar even let me take pictures!!!!! It's a big no-no in the cathedral, but I was able to snap away, even with people grumbling about it below. It was a magical, holy place in the middle of all the bustle. There was a perfect view down the nave of the church to the stained glass windows at the back. My favorite part was on the bottom level, where I was able to take a very close look at Henry's tomb. He has a wooden effigy that is breathtaking to see.

But my tour didn't end there! The bursar took me around the front of the big altar and let me look at the majestic golden altarpiece that covers the front of the church. It was brilliant. Amazing. As the bursar and I said goodbye, I wanted to hug him for my special morning. I spent the rest of my time there trying to sketch out what I was, much to the annoyance of all the people walking around me, but at that point, I was so happy, I didn't mind the tourists!

A Limey Summer

This has been the summer of key lime pie. At 'Cake Friday' (an event at WBL where each person in the manuscript department brings a cake for morning tea), I made key lime pie for my new colleagues. None of them had tried anything like it before, and everyone thought it was quite tasty. There aren't any graham crackers here, so I used ginger snaps, which worked perfectly to balance the tartness of the lime zest with the spice of ginger.

Tonight I made key lime pie again for my dorm-friend H, who's leaving tomorrow morning. It's such an easy pie that I don't bother measuring anything any more. After a quick Fahrenheit to Celsius conversion, we were all set! Here's the recipe:

Key Lime Pie
Serves eight

Lime filling

4 teaspoons grated zest plus 1/2 cup strained juice from 3 to 4 limes

4 large egg yolks

1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk

Graham cracker crust

11 full graham crackers, processed to fine crumbs (1-1/4 cups)

3 tablespoons granulated sugar

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Whipped cream topping

3/4 cup heavy cream

1/4 cup confectioners' sugar

1. For the filling: Whisk zest and yolks in medium bowl until tinted light green, about 2 minutes. Beat in condensed milk, then juice; set aside at room temperature to thicken.

2. For the crust: Adjust oven rack to center position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Mix crumbs and sugar in medium bowl. Add butter; stir with fork until well blended. Pour mixture into 9-inch pie pan; press crumbs over bottom and up sides of pan to form even crust. Bake until lightly browned and fragrant, about 15 minutes. Transfer pan to wire rack; cool to room temperature, about 20 minutes.

3. Pour lime filling into crust; bake until center is set, yet wiggly when jiggled, 15 to 17 minutes. Return pie to wire rack; cool to room temperature. Refrigerate until well chilled, at least 3 hours. (Can be covered with lightly oiled or oil-sprayed plastic wrap placed directly on filling and refrigerated up to 1 day.)

4. For the whipped cream: Up to 2 hours before serving, whip cream in medium bowl to very soft peaks. Adding confectioners' sugar 1 tablespoon at a time, continue whipping to just-stiff peaks. Decoratively pipe whipped cream over filling or spread evenly with rubber spatula. Garnish with optional sugared lime slices and serve.

A Few of My Favorite Things...

The Cotton Genesis (MS Cotton Otho B VI)

For anyone interested in early Christianity, the Cotton Genesis, made in the late 5th century is one of the most tragic losses of the Cottonian Fire, which destroyed so many manuscripts. The Cotton Genesis was once one of the most highly illuminated bibles, with over 300 illustrations; it's also one of the earliest bibles to survive.

The manuscript is in Greek and was probably made in Egypt. The fragments that remain illustrate some of the finest examples late antique illumination. The fragments shrank in the fire, so scholars have tried their best to recreate what the manuscript may have looked like before the fire.


One of the biggest discoveries about the illuminations in the Cotton Genesis are the mosaics in St. Mark's Basilica in Venice. 110 of these mosaics were made around 1220, and were direct copies of the illustrations in the Cotton Genesis! The manuscript came to Venice after the sack of Constantinople in 1204.

So even though the manuscript is almost lost to us, St. Mark's preserves the illustrations so we can get an idea of what it looked like. It also shows that the manuscript was considered a masterpiece of illumination in the 13th century. Perhaps I'll get to see St. Mark's someday!

(Hello Goodbye)

This has been a summer of hellos, of greetings: my first time living abroad, visiting international research libraries, working full time, really living on my own. I could say more, but I think most of you know how much this summer has changed my perspective. I need new glasses, I guess. The hellos were very hard at first; they always are. But once I got the hang of it, I began to like my adventures

It's now starting to be a summer of goodbyes. I just said goodbye to a dorm-mate who left to go back home to Austria. H., one of the closest friends while I've been here, is off to do research in Majorca. And tonight I walked to Holborn to have dinner with Owlfish, an internet friend who has fast become an embodied friend. Since she lives in London, I've had the pleasure of seeing her often this summer.

So the goodbyes are start finding new research projects that pique my interest. For one of the first times in my life, I've felt intellectually sated, which is an incredible feeling for me. I always have so many things running around my head at once, but since I've been here I've really honed my research skills and interests to the point that I can confidently say that I am becoming a full-fledged scholar!

Marlyebourne High Street, etc.

I had a wonderful time today exploring a whole new area of London: Marlyebourne, which is a 2 mile walk from my dorm. H. and I went for brunch at Le Pan Quotidien (even though it's a chain, their 'bread basket' can't be beat for value and yumminess) and walked down Marlyebourne High Street perusing the shops.

We found a farmer's market along the way, which was incredibly impressive. Every king of meat was accounted for, even game (mmmmmm...), 3 cheese vendors, a person selling fresh eggs, and 3 people selling bread and homemade flour, in addition to all the vegetable stalls. It made me smile that I could probably do most of my weekly shopping there if I lived in London for a longer period. It had everything one needs for amazing, good quality meals. H. and I picked up a fresh loaf of bread, carrots, an eggplant/aubergine, bell peppers, and amazing-looking fresh mushrooms for a ratatouille, and we stopped at the Fromagerie and found a wonderful goat cheese to go with our bread. (I just had our dinner, and it was a wonderful feast of fresh produce, with melon for dessert!)

We walked around the shops and I finally spent my birthday money that my mother and father gave me buying a pair of shoes for autumn (like the ones to the left, but with a lower heel and in brown) from Shoon. These will look great with pants or with my usual 4os-inspired skirts, so I'm very happy to have them, especially since they're really nicely made, with beautiful leather. I love shoe shopping over here much more since London gets more shoes from Italian shoemakers than the States do.

After we were done shopping we went to Regent's Park and walked around. If bird flu ever hits, all I can say is to stay away from that place. I saw an impressive number of waterfowl there, but the pigeons were everywhere and particularly nasty. There were feathers all over the grass. H. and I managed to find a quiet bench where the ducks and shade were plentiful and we read for an hour. Just sitting on my bench I saw: Mute Swans, a stray Whooper Swan, Tufted Ducks, Bean Geese, Shelducks, Pochard, Red-Crested Pochard (which was the cutest duck ever), and my favorite bird of the day, a Black Swan. (Please visit this site for pictures of the other waterfowl mentioned above.)

It was a wonderful and relaxing way to spend a Sunday!

Going South...

I had a chance to see a stage adaptation of Carson McCuller's The Member of the Wedding last night at the Young Vic Theatre. The space was simply amazing. They had a cafe and bar when one walks in the door, with prop markers as chairs. The ceiling was done up with stage lights and the walls were big sheets of varnished plywood, which really looked awesome. (I especially liked the varnished wood, which was done in a natural finish.) We waited for the doors to open with our glasses of wine on a comfy sofa and coffee table.

Once in the theatre, I reveled at the care the company took with the set. Instead of a normal, rectangular stage, this one was a triangle shape, with the point jutting out into the audience. It made for a big space since everything could be set at an angle, and the audience had wonderful views since the angles made one feel much close to the stage than normal.

The play itself was okay. It's a great story: a young tomboy who is in the middle of her brother's wedding and really doesn't know how to grow up or what to do. There are two ways to play the character, I think: to under-act and make her a sullen, upset teenager, which would probably work better on film so the director could make use of close-ups; or to overact and throw teen-aged tantrums. Our director picked the overacting, which was probably better for the space, but made me completely unable to get involved with the character (with whom I feel a kinship, so it was strange not being able to really enjoy the play). Frankie was always to excited, so there was really no way to build up to the high points of her character since she started out too dramatic.

The maid holds the play together, and she held the cast together with a superb performance. Her acting was measured, calm, and a breath of fresh air compared with most of the cast. She's American as well, so her accent was much closer to a 'real' southern one. Most of the Brits in the cast used an Oklahoma southern accent instead of a proper Georgia one, which really bugs me.

I also enjoyed John Henry, played by the cutest 6 year old ever. I usually can't stand child actors, but he was as cute as a button (and looked just like pictures of K. when he was a boy). His antics were very true and honest compared with the overwrought acting of Frankie.

Overall, an enjoyable experience if for nothing else, so I could play theatre critic! I'm going to see George Bernard Shaw's Saint Joan soon, and I cannot wait. An amazing actress is playing Joan, so I'm excited. And of course, Jean Seberg (my muse in everything hair-cut-related) played Joan in the movie.

Happy Saturday Everyone!

Realization of the Day:

I love Duke Humfrey's Reading Room!

I'm sitting in Duke Humfrey's Reading Room at Oxford at the moment. I needed to come back and look at the rest of the manuscripts that I needed before I go back to the States. It feels strange having a laptop here --it was built in the 15th century, folks. The century that I study! It's so quiet and nice here. I'm working by a window and have 5 manuscripts stacked up beside me and another 5 waiting for me at the front desk.

I'm going to go to the pub across the street for lunch. I had the best venison bangers and mash (sausage and mashed potatoes) there last time I was here, so I'm hoping that it's on special again. And the rhubarb crumble! Mmmmmm. There's really no point to this post, I'm afraid. I'm just ever-so-happy to be doing what I love in a place that still has the remnants of lat-medieval paint on the walls. I'm trying to cram as much of this into my memory as possible so I don't forget a minute.

Realization of the Day:

Boy did the transit strike screw things up.

I am very lucky: I walk to work every morning. Most Londoners don't drive to work since there are steep fees for green-house gas emissions if you drive in Central London. If I remember correctly, parking even costs more if you have a car with a high emission rate. Honestly, I think they should start using this in Los Angeles and see how fast people switch to more energy-efficient cars.

Anyway, most people take the bus, the tube, the train, their legs, or their bike to work. Everyone still acts like they're in cars though. Nobody looks at anybody else. Everyone is in their own little bubble of personal space. I smile at most people I pass, especially if they're looking particularly glum. It's still novel for me to be here, so I'm generally happy to be out and about; not so, for many grumpy Londoners in the mornings. I see the men going to work in their wonderful British suits (usually pin-striped, with French cuffs, and brightly-hued ties) and I can't help but smile at their style compared with the American penchant for navy-blue suits and neutral ties. It wasn't until last week that a friend told me that these men probably thought I was flirting with them. Awesome. I have frightened dozens of British men with my strange California ways! I have pierced their bubble of solitude and made them feel really uncomfortable! Nobody is safe from my dimpled smile!

I'm not smiling these days though. For the past three days, there's been a nasty transit strike. (This article has a great picture of how the tube stations looked.) 2/3 of all the tube lines were shut down this week, effectively bringing the city to a crawl. Even my path to work changed drastically since more cars were on the road and more grumpy people were trying to dodge my friendliness. My colleagues at WBL were trying to change their schedules so that they wouldn't be travelling in rush hour, but effectively every minute was rush hour. The lines to get into all the tube stations were so long that many people just gave up. There were much fewer people using the library this week as well.

After being here, I really wish that west Los Angeles would have some kind of above-ground train system. Above ground because I would be much more comfortable using a train in a state renown for its seismic bumps if it was in a giant earth-cave.

Sunday, Lovely Sunday

On Sunday, my friend from W.B.L. and I went to down to Richmond, a town in the southwest of London. It's a posh town, with upscale stores like Max Mara and such, but B. and I ignored those in favor of seeing Ingmar Bergman's The Seventh Seal on the big screen. Even though I consider myself quite the medieval movie buff, I had never seen this film, so I was really excited to get the chance. I now understand why everyone wanted me to see it so much! I really liked Bergman's portrayal of the over-zealous clergy, as well as his casting of Death. I want to see it again before I make any other judgments, however.

After our movie screening, we walked along the Thames, which borders the town. Edwardian and Victorian mansions face the river. The path was filled with bikers, runners, and walkers enjoying the views of Egyptian Geese and Canada Geese puttering along amongst the rowboats. Had we world enough and time, we would have gone to Hampton Court, but we settled for views of the majestic Ham House.

After we finished our walk, we stopped at the White Cross Pub for a 1/2 pint of cider, as the Thames slowly rose to high tide, covering most of the sidewalks near the water's edge. Then we caught a matinée of Lady Chatterley and afterwards ate leftover bread and cheese for dinner whilst trying to avoid getting pecked at by hungry geese. (I highly recommend Lady Chatterley to everyone who liked the book. I've seen it twice and it's a truly beautiful film.)

I'd post pictures of my adventures, but my silly camera has decided to ignore my computer (or vice versa) so my photos will have to wait for now.

My Favorites...

Since everyone tells me that I'm leaving in less than a month, I thought I'd showcase some of the more amazing things I've seen this summer. We'll get to how I'm feeling about leaving London later, when I've figured it out. For now, have some pretty pictures.

This manuscript is Harley 2278. (Harley was a collector of manuscripts in the 18th century; his collection topped 6,000, most of which now reside in the British Library's collection. It's also the collection that I'm helping to catalogue this summer.) Harley 2278 is a mid 15th century manuscript of the Life of Saint Edmund. (To read more about this manuscript, click on the link.) This was one of the manuscripts I considered as I chose a few for public exhibition. As it turns out, since people can't get close to the manuscript, the images from this book lose some of their power, since they are so detailed.

The illuminations in this manuscript are some of my favorite that I've seen this summer. Instead of using really saturated colors, the artist chose subdued colors and gave the figures amazing facial expressions. There are many, many miniatures in this manuscript, which was given to Henry VI, who happens to be the king in the image below. I also love the border, which not only has birds, but also peas! I have never seen another border with pea pods -- it makes me smile just to think of it. Click on the image to embiggen!

Book Review!

The Babes in the Woods, by Ruth Rendell

I love mystery novels! Not the kind of mystery novels that feature one person figuring out a crime, but the deep, psychological novels of the type that Patricia Highsmith writes where one has to interrogate their own opinions on humanity whilst they read. Rendell is my favorite of the British mystery writers because in addition to having her master sleuth books (the Chief Inspector Wexford novels), she also writes books of the type that I like. This was not one of those books.

Chief Inspector Wexford is a really great detective; in fact, had I to choose one to solve a crime, I'd probably go with him over the 1,000s of other book detectives (with the exception of dear Sherlock, of course...but he'd have to be on an opium-free day!). Wexford is smart, loves literature, and is wise enough to see into people's twisted realities.

But I'm not mentioning this book, am I? It was good, but it didn't hold my attention at all, which is why this book review is very tardy compared to the many I have posted previously. I just couldn't finish the damned book, which is not a good sign when it's a mystery! That said, I highly recommend most of Rendell's other novels, especially the ones sans Wexford. 2.5/5: Eh

Recap of Paris, Le Fin!

This is the last in my recaps of my trip to Paris. To pick up where I left off, on Saturday night my professor invited us to his abode and we had a local aperitif with pate and then made our way across the Seine to a wonderful restaurant right across from Notre Dame. He and his wife were very generous and wonderful to K. and me--he really has changed my scholarly life. I think K. and I are going to have him over for dinner when we all return to the States this fall.

But back to my recap! On Sunday, K. decided that we should go to Le Muséum national d'Histoire naturelle (That National Museum of Natural History). It was one of the strangest experiences I've had this summer. We walked through the gardens, which were beautiful and very orderly -- much different than the planned chaos of the Chelsea Physic Garden. At the front of the museum, we were greeted by a dragon made from recycled cans and plastic (click on the photo to embiggen). It was really cool, not to mention an awesome use of the plastic bags (flames!) that fly about.

The real treat of the day, however, was the paleontology exhibit. We walked up the stairs into a turn of the century iron building (of which there are many throughout England and France). Once we looked in the door, I almost gasped: the room is filled to the brim with skeletons. There's really not a good descriptive phrase I can come up with to give you an idea of the shock I felt seeing so many angled-white bones, seemingly floating about. Along the walls of the room were more skeletons as well as many jars of various body parts, dead things, and Victorian oddities (like a one-eyed cat). Each of these had a carefully written sign that looked as if someone wrote it for the original exhibit and hadn't changed it since. It was a strange, and eye-opening experience -- I think I came away with a much better understanding of the Victorian obsession with science and death. There were three floors of specimens to go through. The above photo gives some idea of the first floor's interior (picture just as many skeletons on the other side of the first floor as well. To view some of the more gruesome pictures in the set, click on the 'photo' links to the right.

A Most Satisfactory Day

I went to the Tate Britain today with a friend I've made who lives at my dorm. She's also a graduate student and specializes in 18th century history at Harvard. We've spent many a night talking in our kitchen about our experiences living abroad.

We walked along the south bank of the Thames near the theatre district, which is a place I rarely go in London. It was a beautiful afternoon, especially when I spotted Big Ben through the trees and Westminster Abbey just down the road. It was nice to be in the throng of tourists, all excited to be in London, instead of the usual somber Londoner.

The Tate Britain was an an unexpected treat. Everywhere I turned there were paintings I recognized from my childhood. They have an amazing collection of the Pre-Raphaelites' paintings, like the one on the right. (Mom, we HAVE to go there together, you'd love it!) Four days before I leave for the States they're putting on a giant exhibition of all their paintings. I have to see it before I leave!! There was also a special exhibit called 1807: William Blake, Slavery, and the Radical Mind that had some of Blake's art and some wonderful examples of abolitionist books. I was introduced to the artwork of Richard Dadd, who painted the image on the left. I'd love to read a biography on him, but I haven't found a good one yet. There was also an exhibit on Turner, who I didn't give enough credit to, I think; I really liked his more abstract watercolors a lot.

Then my friend and I came home and made a wonderful dinner of pasta and veggies, with a caprese salad on the side. Mmmm.

Realization of the Day:

A haircut can change one's outlook entirely!

It can! I promise! I found out that the salon a block away from my dorm is an Aveda salon and so I went in today to see if they had an appointment open. Since I have such short hair, if I don't get a trim every couple of months I start to look really grungy, and not in that good, early 90s way (was that ever good?). I was heading down the path to mullet-ville and in a reasonably homesick mood, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and try the random salon!

The thing with short hair is, one small misstep and one can look very much like a guy. Let's face it, I'm not exactly the most feminine woman in the world; I like being androgynous (I think it adds to my quirky charm, don't you?) so I like having shorter hair, but there's always a risk that someone is going to give me a really bad cut.

Not today! The woman who cut my hair was tremendous. She ever-so-carefully cut each section, sometimes stopping to cut a single stray hair. The result? A wonderful pixie cut with short 'fringe' (or bangs in the U.S., as I soon realized). I am a very happy camper, feeling much lighter, and ready to take on the world again! Grrr!