personal philosophy

"Having a personal philosophy is like having a pet marmoset, because it may be very attractive when you acquire it, but there may be situations when it will not come in handy at all."
-- Lemony Snicket

shells

and such.

went on adventure to swansea today. partly because has looked fairly interesting from train and bus the last two times i whisked through. and partly because, although there is a bit of rivallry between cardiff and swansea (and much joking about the mumbles, etc.), it is not supposed to be so bad. and indeed it wasn't. and partly because the train pass is still good, and, being the miserly person that you all know, it would be a shame to waste 'free' travel. (please, no one tell the train people that they are supposed to mark off days when one shows them the pass... since lisa, ben and i validated all three passes at heathrow, not another day has been marked off!!!! and there was much rejoicing.)

located central market. located marina. admired sailing vessels. visited dylan thomas centre in feeble effort to thaw. resumed freezing self in slow and painful manner by walking down main thoroughfare since unable to comprehend bus system and too proud to ask more than one person for help. and this was fortuitous, because...

located beach! freezing became instantly unimportant in romantic idyllic style of silly giddy persons. so toddled along beach unconcerned with the numbness of fingers, crunching shells, collecting pretty ones and generally feeling at peace with world. (WILL live on beach one day.) there are no pictures of any of this as got one block away from cardiff central station this a.m. before realising had forgotten camera. was in no mood to delay departure by another hour as was already behind schedule due to enterprising scheduling of school recruitment visits.

walked along beach for, oh, at least 2 miles... almost all the way to Mumbles. Could see the lighthouse on the little island. Desperately wanted to make it to lighthouse. But not desperately enough apparently (it was probably two more miles and for some reason cannot seem to get sock/shoe coordinated to avoid blisters). Stopped at the Woodman for a pint (of Old Speckled Hen) and early dinner (of pork and apricot pate and a lovely spicy tomato and bleu cheese soup) in hamlet of Blackpill.

Here, is more about Mumbles -- and you really should peruse since the Oystermouth Historical Society uses scare quotes around 'breasts' (the name, Mumbles, apparently comes from the two islands' similarity to 'breasts'). hee hee.

so, then i came home. oh, and found ye olde yarne shoppe, but it was closing time. so sad.

une visite de clare

It's true! It's true!

Prancy McFrancerton will be here in two months -- hoorah! Well, not exactly here... will meet her in County Clare (Ireland), for obvious reasons :)

and then we will return to C-town. One can only hope that we'll have as much fun here as when this picture was taken right before LeAnn Rimes sang Me and Bobby McGee! (cropped self out in manner of Oma since look like absolute COW. moooooooo.)

Two packages arrived yesterday in honor of the Last Day of Quantitative Statistics lectures! One from (aforementioned and very cute) Oma :) --- ettoufee mix, cornbread mix, splenda (hoorah!). and one from Cousine LLLL -- which included brill fairtrade coffee from www.larrysbeans.com. In past 24 hours have had, hmmmmmm, maybe 10 cups of coffee?

Good news is lecture is finito. Bad news is must write 2000 more words of meaningless interpretation of 117 peoples' questionnaire responses in number form. Good news is have until next Friday. Bad news is regular classes begin next week. Good news is still have time on Christmas rail passes. Bad news is am not lady of leisure and limitless financial stability who can toodle around on trains with no thought of time or responsibility until the passes expire at the end of Feb.

More good news (ewww - am starting to make self feel a bit seasick with this emotional rollercoaster): have now marked one movie off list of movies which (certain) people mock me for not having seen before. The Godfather. Hiroko and Katharine and I were all newbies and were quite please to have BBC 3 expand our horizons. got quite a lot of knitting done!

Next week is Godfather II. maybe...

sphericity

Would like to take this opportunity to point out that Mauchly's Test of Sphericity tests the null hypothesis that the error covariance matrix of the orthonormalized transformed dependent variables is proportional to an identity matrix.

yes, indeed!

chart means absolutely nothing but katharine was terribly brilliant and created it first. pretty colours! very mod art.

kind of looks like underground map on crack.

one more week of delirium...

S-words

There are more words beginning with "S" than any other letter in the alphabet.
The word "set" is the longest entry in the Oxford English Dictionary.
Yet another cunning show here is Balderdash and Piffle.

Today was a cold Monday. Just have printed out the first statistics paper (please do not injure yourself or those near you falling on the floor and rolling around in hysterics. that would just be rude.).

Yesterday, went to London (on very few hours of sleep) to a Rotary Scholar meeting in York Gate. Hiroko's Rotarian picked me up at 7.00 a.m. (!). Entry into London by road (instead through Paddington) is intriguing and am making an effort to create map in my head every time I go so maybe one day will be able to drive myself :) but probably not -- am easily intimidated. Driving into the City is rather odd, because the final bit is a dual-carriageway... which means that you are basically entering a Massive Entity of a city of 11 million people on TWO LANES! However, were one the person driving, at least one would perhaps not have as severe heart palpitations as one gets driving into, say, St. Louis, Baltimore, or (heaven forbid) Houston.

We drove through Chiswick (pronounced "chizz-ick"), the loveliest residential area along the Thames; then we drove through Hyde Park; and part of Regent's Park (Rotary Offices are right next to Regent's Park) -- this was interesting since haven't been to either park before. The skyline is quite hidden, so it feels very unlike London in a way.

After the meeting, we walked around Baker Street area before meeting his son for dinner at the Globe pub. On our way out of town, we got slightly lost and drove around Grosvenor Square and just happened past the US Embassy! Coming from my little sheltered bookish world, I am ashamed to say that was baffled by all the blockading. In some place in my head, it is truly obvious, but the reality of unsettlement in life shocks you sometimes.

Other things we (moi) learned:
There are multiple Monopoly versions (like London and Milan....)! (who knew? probably everyone but herself here.)
The figure to the right is 'sankofa' --it is a West African symbol that signifies the importance of looking backwards and learning from the past. It can also be in the form of a swan looking backwards over its shoulder (if a swan has a shoulder that is -- perhaps that would be a good topic for debate).

Discuss. (this means it is my bedtime)

Napshell

i want the one on the left.

Cafe du Monde in Cardiff?

The good folks at Cafe du Monde (in the chocolate city) truly have nothing to fear from my begniet-cooking prowess.

Of course one should always wear black when cooking with flour-type products. It gives one an aura of having worked extremely hard. And honey goes quite well as accompaniment when one hasn't thought ahead and bought powdered sugar.

But, even odd begniets go well with O Brother, Where art Thou?

begniets and ADD

no wonder my conduct grades were not so impressive in kindergarten: cannot seem to sit still for more than 11.2 minutes at a time.

Hiroko has now shared coffee with me, rendering me twitchy and alert.

another story on the whale. this one is more interesting than reuters' -- more info and not as dry. Helene did not believe me about this event earlier -- some inane US deception :) A whale in the Thames, indeed. One of my trademarks is my deceptiveness, you know. For example, my mother absolutely believed me when told that "No, I did not cut the cat's hair -- no idea how that happened" while standing there with scissors in my hand -- that takes talent, people. And despite her 'pictures' of me at the age of four through the upstairs window, in which it appears that paste might be being consumed, I have consistently and vehemently denied those allegations. My public believes me.

Speaking of US deception, a reader quote from the Independent in response to the question, Do you feel confident that the Government has taken reasonable precautions to protect from bird flu?:

"Sars was a fake and so is bird flu. It is in the same category as WMD - a propoganda of fear promoted by the US government to sell vaccine from the company Donald Rumsfeld has an interest in - a total scam to make money."

Makes one wonder if the families of the poor children in Turkey feel faked out.

Am now going to make begniets, since:
a) Paul has threatened Peanut Butter Sanctions (PBS -- hahahaha).
b) it is Inauguration Day -- enabling me to begin my Dictatorship. And what better way to begin a Dictatorship, I ask, than with coffee and begniets? At least you may all rest easy that no one will be forced to be chocolate under my rule. Unless they want to be. It is, after all, going to be a Benevolent Dictatorship. Until someone vexes me.
c) it is more interesting than Quantitative Statistics.

whale

there is a whale swimming up the River Thames at the moment!

it passed the London Eye about an hour ago...

(cannot seem to find online proof of this, but it was just on Radio 4 news)

14.34 p.m. -- Katharine found a news link from Reuters.

And here is a CD review from The Independent by Simon Price on Fiona Apple's Extraordinary:

'There is a legion of quirky, eccentric female singer-songwriters roaming the earth at present. Many of them are very good. A line, however, must be drawn and Fiona Apple is unequivocally on the wrong side of it. Her third album (her first won a Grammy) fails to deliver on the accompanying promises that she is an "uncompromising", "edgy" and "groudbreaking" artist. Rather than residing in Joanna Newsom/Regina Spektor territory, she belongs in the safer Sheryl Crowe/Jewel neighborhood. Worse still, she fails to engage the listener, with navel-gazing lyrical self-pity which makes you want to eat your own eyes.'

Vexed writing tone is marvelous.

Futility

now that have lain in bed for an entire hour, trying futilely to sleep, it seems brilliant to do something productive -- be unproductive.

firstly, should introduce y'all to new friend.

yes, this is my chive plant. (pay no attention to that man behind the curtain -- or the pile of books.) suggestions for names are welcome. am currently out of creativity. and logic. logic is behind the law enforcement barricade in my head and therefore cannot seem to get to it.

have also just managed to somehow call Georgia by sitting on phone while taking picture (well, the nightstand had to be tidied before being documented... nobody wants to see phones and hair bands and calculators and lip balm in a portrait of a chive plant.). Sound of a very faint voice coming from somewhere it oughtn't be slightly alarmed me. She is probably unamused by this event and will either give me a scold or think i am in some sort of danger :) No danger besides self.

Random items:

Katharine sent me a link to yarn harlot. link is actually to the Knitting Olympics, but the blog itself is pretty interesting, too -- for my Knit Wit friends back in the Ark-la-Tex.

Ark-la-Tex is a funny tri-partite word.

Am almost out of American peanut butter.

Missed by one minute seeing filming of Dr. Who, which was occurring on a red double-decker driving through downtown Cardiff tonight, by dawdling upon leaving Oxfam shop. Therefore, when anyone sees an episode with Dr. Who doing something on a double-decker bus in downtown Cardiff, you will know that I did NOT see it.

For Clare: mention of molting in yesterday's blog means that hair is falling out from extra attempt at being mathematically competent.

Am not sure why there is double space paragraph formatting all of a sudden.

This annoys me. Especially at freakin' 1.40 a.m.

statisticative quanticals

<0.05 = significance

degree of freedom between groups - 3
degree of freedom within groups - 111
F (=t) - 5.337
sig - .002


is molting a symptom of bird flu?

luxury caramel shortcakes

...should be carefully regulated by the government.
These things could quickly get out of control.
And one should not go to the store when one is peckish.

Have just managed to slog through the First Report to Rotary -- this being a document begun over two months ago. Admittedly, academic work comes first, but two months is a bit ridiculous. Was the first person in our house to start it, and.... well, anyway, c'est fini.

Of course, writing on here is much more entertaining (or so the voices in my head tell me) and it was terribly difficult to be clever and compelling when so much energy in Demanded Work of over 7,000 words written in the past week has been drained from my psycho -- i mean, psyche. As well, the show on here MUST go on...

But maybe tomorrow. Must have just one more delectable 'luxury caramel shortcake' and rest mental energies now so as not to end up as this sign.

Toss-pot.

this word makes me laugh.

Have just returned from brave adventure into the part of Wales that people from Cardiff call "really Welshy". The conductor on the train yesterday called it Land-diddly-o. It is really: Llandeilo.

To the left is NOT the whole town; Llandeilo is actually to the left, outside the picture. sadly missed getting a good picture of the whole town. maybe next time.

Went to see the sister of my former neighbor (from the Fairfield apartment) as she is in a rest home there. She is terribly cute and Southern and so sad because she cannot speak so that people can understand. But she was happy to see me & my 2 bunches of Daffodils (which were apparently either made of gold or collected by someone in need of a new private jet or something -- 1GBP per bunch. and a bunch is approximately 9. but anyhoo...)

The home is actually in the town pictured to the R. I would tell you how to pronounce it inoffensively, but that would take away all the challenge.

For some bizarre mental-incapacity reason (that may be somehow related to the title of this edition), the definitively non-brilliant decision was made not to wear my Dr. Marten's. Had misguided idea of this being tiny and charming place (which it is) & that a lot of walking extraneous to going into a couple of book shops and pubs along my merry way to see Ms. Virginia would not be an issue.

My little toe on my left foot may now have to be amputated. Never has such a horrendous trauma been inflicted upon my body (except maybe when I got sunburned rrrrreally, really badly at the age of 13 and couldn't lift my arms higher than a 45* angle from my sides). Of course, once one's shoes are off and no breeze happens to blow anywhere in the vicinity, and IF you don't look at it, one rather might forget that it is there. If one is rather dim.

Now, how this came to be (and it was a lot of fun):
Left Cardiff yesterday at noon -- drinking leaded Coke like it was going out of style.
Arrived in Llandiddlyo at 2.30. Middle OF Nowhere -- quite charming.
Toodled my way to the main street by my nose since it really is a diddy place.
Found the cemetary :)
Bought some flowers.
Walked to the nursing home in the next village (mentioned above).
Got a recommendation for a place to stay from the people at the home.
Stopped in a pub to warm up. They also suggested two places to stay.
Began walking -- called inns.... too expensive.
Stopped in some shops, and since people do talk to me everywhere I go, got another recommendation for a more reasonable place to stay. BUT the girl didn't know the name of it, just that it was down the road and she wasn't sure how far and if it was before or after the third place on my list....
We're walking, we're walking. We're brave. We're beginning to think we're taking the 9.00 train back to Cardiff.
Got to third place on list -- totally too posh for me to go tramping into. Cloth napkins big giveaway. Also, too bright. Bright makes me nervous. People might see me.
Mother calls and gets all concerned for my safety since it is now dark and daughter is making attempt at unconcerned free-spiritedness :)
Bravely keep walking after finish conversation even though it looks like only sheep fields are ahead.
200 steps & light shines forth on tiny B&B sign. By this point, am in totally different village -- Rhosmaen. Knock on the door that I guess belongs to the B&B and the people take me right to a room that is tidy, clean and perfectly rated. Hoorah!
Now am hungry.
We're walking (past the cloth napkin place) back into town (1.5 miles maybe).
Dinner (sausages, naturally) at the Angel Hotel -- very nice. Highly recommend. Also, dimly-lit.
We're walking.
Did not bring warm enough pajamas.

Today:
Lovely, massive breakfast! And the landlady told me about a castle to walk to and a swinging bridge. Walked to castle first (in Llandeilo -- again 1.5-2 miles) and the sign said closed, so walked to find bridge, with these directions:

Walk to the church and, if you're coming up from Ffairfach, it will be on your right and you take the street to the right, immediately before the church and you twist and wind around this little street until you see a break in between the terraced houses and you go down that little foot-path and it winds through some fields and you get to the bridge.

My problem was discerning which was someone's driveway and which was a footpath. Ended up walking all the way back to the Llandeilo rail stop (not just a hop, skip and a jump away) before making eye contact with bridge. Picked way through muddy path, weeds and briars to get to bridge before seeing anyone. Was then asked if I were lost. "No, no! not me!" Walked back to town the other way, thereby acquainting self with actual location of "the break in the terraced houses."
Walked back to castle grounds, still closed sign, but decided to toodle down drive anyway since the intimidating person who had been standing in the driveway earlier was gone. Misjudged distance -- thought castle looked quite close, nice leisurely stroll, 20 minutes? Maybe a HOUR later, i found a sign -- guess which route was chosen! You betcha.

Was only person at entire Dinefwr castle ruin -- that was very,very nifty. It was really quiet there, not even many birds...
This castle ruin is from the 13 century, I think, although there was a castle here before that one. It was apparently an important military site in Deheubarth, the ancient kingdom of South-west Wales.

Limped out of castle grounds, back through Llandeilo, into Ffairfach, stopped for Sunday lunch (of Welsh lamb) at same pub. Saw Ms. Virginia again, and hobbled to train stop. The rest, you all sadly know...

Here is the funniest sign of the day. (WHO makes these??? I want their job.)

that darn song.

perhaps it has been mentioned that Show me the Way to Amarillo is frequently played here? once or twice, i might have said something about it in passing?

Anyhoo, have just returned from most delightful evening at the theatre! Pantomime is a huge British event around the Christmas season; and Graham was absolutely set that I MUST have this experience for my cultural development, so he and Jane were kind enough to take me. And even had we not had a pot of Yorkshire dairy ice cream at intermission, i still would have had an utterly mahhhhhhvelous time.

It is theatre unlike any I have seen before. Geared for kids and most totally interactive -- with call-and-response to the actors, yelling helpful suggestions for what the actors might do (like, "watch out for the Villain behind you!"), throwing things at the stage (theatre-supplied things, like foam rocks, for example -- this devolved into a foam rock war between the actors and the audience), singing, clapping, and on and on. This is a great introduction to theatre and I LOVE the idea behind it. Another good thing is that it has a lot of adult humor in it as well (kind of like old cartoons, before they were dumbed-down), so you catch a lot of funny bits.

This season, The New Theatre's panto was Peter Pan. There was, of course, the song about following the leader :) And there was some amusing sailor humor (which ties in niftily to my mention of Polari from yesterday), great costumes, impressive dancing, and gorgeous men doing gymnastics. That is always a good addition to any show; but i digress :) There were also a couple of water guns which sprayed the audience, causing great youthful delight.

And here comes the referrent bit... so, Mr. Smee brings 4 children from the audience up on stage (ages 7-9) after Hook has been eaten by the Crocodile and we are almost through, and introduces them as the new pirate recruits. After they have adorably introduced themselves, said 'hello' to their mummies, mummies have shouted 'hello' back, they are going to sing and dance to a pirate song... and this song is:

Yes. Yes, it is.... Sha la la, la la la la la, HEY HEY!

Thoroughly enjoyed self. And my G&T at Henry's after, too. Such a fantabulosa night out!!!

awwwww....

me and The Baby :)
(MerMer and memories of the BonnieBlueHonda...)

This whole Usurption Threat has apparently been taken very, very seriously (as i am very menacing individual)

Too knackered?

"I just can't be bothered to leave the house, I'm so knackered."
quote attributed to Tweeny (Katharine's roommate. That is not really her name, it's just what i 'affectionately' call her.)

Dignity. Always dignity.

Do not know why the picture of La Infanta is not allowing one to click and see larger image. Am slightly distressed by this since a) am easily distracted and distressed by insignificant aspects of life and b) had hoped to get loads of compliments on impressive quality of stitch work.

ALERT: Email has been received from 'The Baby' of the family (aka, Merry-dith), who has apparently been roused from her incommunicative existence by possible Usurption of her Honored Status by La Infanta. Concern has been noted and will be duly considered. In addition, she WILL be added to the web-based communication list IF she agrees to bloody COMMUNICATE :) hee hee. you did leave yourself open for this abuse, though, little missy.

So, today went out (for the first time in a day and a half), and the universe had apparently decided that it was 'Exercise Day'. First, strolled to Georgia's for a little Warm-Up (all of 46-second walk); typed a bit; loaded up 14 books to return to library; walked home; dropped computer off; collected 3 more books to return; walked 15 minutes to library (slowed by weight of books, awkwardness of bag, constant scanning for either of kitty friends along route, and blinding position of sun). Returned 32 lbs. of books -- success! Breathe. (am fully aware that have changed tense here, although not sure what this means textually) Walk to third floor to collect books needed for final paper... and where is my list of titles and catalog numbers?
NOT in bag.
NOT on person.
NOT in coat pocket.
Call Fabiana to see if she can locate mystery list; she is not able to decipher scribbles relevant to my predicament from 972 pieces of paper on bed.

Walk home at brisk pace, annoyed with own incompetence; nearly see cat fight on way home (of the feline, not female, sort); discourage said fight.

Enter room and immediately pin-point illegible paper still attached to note pad...

[Someone speaking loudly outside my window at the moment sounds like Barney Gumble.]

...Make sandwich; eat some cold peas; nearly forget paper; remember; trundle back to library (would have been 10 minute walk, except for lower, but still present sun-in-eyes and brief kitty encounter until he tired of attention and sat himself coolly just out of arm-reach).

Rest of the day is not terribly scintillating...

Things we've learned today:
linking verbs are also known as copular verbs --- hahahahahahaha!
Polari was a sociolect, used primarily by gay men in London between the 1930s and 1970s for encoded communication.
it is best to de-fragment one's computer before it begins to behave as though is suffering from neurological difficulty.
maintaining one's dignity is a bit difficult when the owner of a cat returns home after dark and finds one conversing with said cat.

Cuteness Overload

No, not me... (even though that may come as a shock, since everyone knows how obsessed The Cat-Whisperer is with being CUTE. not.)

Note the addition of Cute Overload to menu at R (thanks to Paul for emailing it!).

An addition to the Cute Factor for today would be having a picture of La Infanta Preciosa (la ninita de mi prima, la doctora, en ohio -- see Saturday, November 26, 2005) in my inbox this morning. You may notice that she is in a rawther large sweater. But have particular reason to be excited since i knitted it for her -- see, i do occasionally complete things (it was really a very tiny garment, so La Infanta must be QUITE petite!)

Just returned home after 12 hours (!) gone today being productive. Final word count of 2057 for Phonology (and that was after I stopped 'writing' at 1899 words. am i verbose? do i talk too much? is everyone mad at me?). Current word count for other two papers... approximately... 147 (together). No, not really :)

Have been working at Georgia's house all afternoon since seemed a good to take a break from the Blue&White-Polka-Dot Bed of Brilliant Thought where my pajama-attired self generally likes to sloth amidst piles o' books and random papers and pencils vexingly leading marks onto my pillow cases and causing great consternation and necessitating laundry procrastinatory proactivity. And we actually got lots accomplished. AND Brian (Georgia's boyfriend) made us a lovely dinner of tagliatella (sp?) as a surprise while we were in the computer room upstairs :) We had a delicious bottle of a South African cabernet, which surprised me since am not a fan of the cabs. But this one was quite more than acceptable. mmmmm.

danger, Will Robinson, danger.

Washing machine is suspiciously silent all of a sudden.

Perhaps it feels overworked and underappreciated at moment since is on third load of Hobbit Clothes for the day. Funny men came to fix it this morning and had to replace blackened plug. They asked if I am Canadian... it was probably the "y'all" that gave me away. But am not exactly sure that this is the Little Washer Who Could... it is making screeching noises at the spin cycle and seems to be thrashing around a bit excessively. I mean, there is Reasonable Thrashing and then one is Over the Top.

Will go check on Deus ex Machina and make caffeinated beverage for self so as to keep up writing momentum. Up to 8.., NO, 913 words now. Based on agreement with Katharine and solidarity in almost making word limit, therefore will be happy if write 1,000 more words.

Reading this nonsense, one would think it a piece of cake, wouldn't one?

Christmas in London (2)

"... Festivity continued late into evening."

Well, actually, we had gone in search of place outside house. Again, quiet city :) Nothing but to return after small constitutional. Also entertained by unfortunate 13-year old girl abusing corner shop owner for not selling her friend some cigarettes. It was all rather melodramatic.

The three girls were not as intellectual as Karsten (to R) and were not quietly reading.

26 December
Boxing Day
City slightly less quiet, but still mostly deserted.

Tube was blessedly running (since it was raining) and so Ulla, Karsten and I went (with the World's Laziest Pigeon, who rode Tube with us from Tower Hill to either Aldgate or to Liverpool Street, to L) in search of cemetaries and other interesting architecture, with end goal of finding Liverpool Football game in pub somewhere. I got us slightly lost. And it was cold. And we walked a really long time. Through mostly empty streets. But we found game, pub and food eventually. Directional skills were slightly impaired.

Danish Christmas food when got home! Danish Christmas celebration is actually on 24 December and the 25th is just a quiet day. (since do not have technical ability to figure out Danish letters on American keyboard, apologize in advance for butchering language). Rodkaal is red cabbage, that reminded me of a sweet sauerkraut. Sild is pickled herring -- we had two kinds: normal pickled herring, and with dill. Ulla made Frikadeller, which are lovely meatballs. Helene made Karry Salat, an egg salad (with curry, i think). New food makes me excessively happy! Oh, all of this was eaten, with the exception of the Rodkaal, in the style of an open-faced sandwich on rye bread. All was FABulously fabulous! :)

27 December
Danish Delegation all accompanied me to Paddington, from whence my journey to collect Lisa&Ben from Heathrow began. (was directional skill failure from the day before being mocked? :) we all know that i miss things sometimes. or often. or all the time. whatever :) then, later, when the gerbil wakes up from his (or her) nap and begins running on the little wheel inside head, begin to obsess about "what if i missed something...?" and then it's too late. and so life plods on at this petty and unsubtle pace.)

Oh my Lord, nearly forgot --- it SNOWED in the morning before we went out to the station! The resulting wetness, since it stopped before we left and could play in it, caused me to (not unusually) to lose my footing on metal stairs and nearly plummet to my great injury upon exiting premises. As it was, only R ankle was crushed into uncomfortable position briefly. Such grace and elegance.

will pick up in York with next installment.

Christmas in London

23 December
made it successfully to bus early, even though encountered random people dressed as Superman, Batman and Robin on the way to the bus stop. People like to dress up in character around here.
And Mari (the Rotary Scholar in Cardiff not living with me) was on my bus, too, since she was on her way to Italy for Christmas with Fabiana's family! So she slept and I knitted all the way to Victoria Station :)

Checked out Hotel Meridiana to make sure not in shady part of town before the Lisa&Ben Tour were scheduled to stay. It was acceptable. Also this was good opportunity to re-acquaint self with using Tube since had been more than 3 years since last in London, I think. This was part of ruse to trick visitors into thinking am aware of where to navigate at any moment. My plan was worthwhile since got self completely turned around coming out of Tower Hill Station and walked in wrong direction looking forlornly for coffee shop.

Tower very dramatic and eerie in green light. Ice rink is to left, but that would have added too much cheer to picture.

Met Helene (at a Starbucks, because was fainting from coffee deprivation), waited a bit in her apartment with Ulla before collecting Karsten and venturing forth into night for solid and liquid sustenance.

24 December
relaxing day. Grocery shopping. Looking at Helene's yachts in St. Katherine's Docks and her block of flats that she rents out for a little extra income :) Karsten, Ulla and I fled to Greenwich for the afternoon so Helene could slave away over stove alone and peacefully (actually she also had to volunteer at a help line that night, so she couldn't just faff about mindlessly all day).

Note: when one is looking for food on Christmas Eve in London, it is best not to dislike Indian food, since few other places are open :) But we survived with a couple of pints at The Southwark Tavern (a nifty round pub with Debtor's cells as part of the basement seating) and then returned to eat a late dinner of ready-made sandwiches in the shadow (dramatically pictured to R) of Southwark Cathedral before Midnight Mass.

25 December
it is absolutely stunning to walk through a massive city of over 8 million people in almost utter silence. surreal.

Karsten and I walked to see the Swiss Re building, the second tallest building in the London skyline. Of course, my camera wasn't with me. Don't be absurd.

Then, Christmas lunch of delectable butterflied turkey rolled up with cranberry & orange stuffing, vegetables, including parsnips, which are one of new favorite items, and immaculately burned cornbread (that would be my contribution). sorry picture is blurry...

Later on in evening, Danish schnapps (sp?) was introduced to the foreigner (moi). This is quite a potent concoction made from carraway seeds and obviously created by some very cold person a long time ago. Being cold would be the primary reason for drinking it, I think; although the songs are fun, so suppose it should remain a tradition for that reason :) It also comes in a cool bottle. Personally, I prefer Glogg, a yummy (and also warming) mulled wine. The description given here does not do justice to Helene's (or to its vanquishing strength). Festivity continued late into evening.

Apparently have now reached photo limit for this entry so will be forced to start another.

Kidnapped Mobile Phone!

Spoons are reproducing again. At this moment, there are only three since have been responsible and re-used several times in making repeated cups of tea throughout afternoon and evening as procratinatory activity. However, it seems rather suspicious that I managed to lose my phone earlier and am under impression that more spoons were involved in transporting said mobile device to stair railing in front hall without my knowledge. The distress caused in my 12' x 8' personal space searching did manage to prevent me from having to think up more creative ways of not reading about phonological differences between NAmEng (North American English) and RP (Received Pronunciation). Like catching up on written correspondence in Olde English Style or cleaning lint from electric extension cords or cooking or burning CDs -- oh wait. Now I get to stay up until 2 am reading such riveting material.

After beginning recount of holly-day, of course. It is best to tackle these things a little bit at a time and, as I always say.....

But more of that later.

Two amusing items have been provided for my enjoyment today and as am great believer in sharing:

Pet Parrot Exposes Husband's Philandering
no comment on names. you are all clever trolley people.
Let's Ask the Cats
really must read the relevant article linked before viewing images

Cheers to Cousine Lady Lindsey Lovely-locks for first one.
Paul for second one.

(un)packing

unpacking one's suitcase and replacing items in their appropriate places is my least favorite part of travel. to remedy this, several options spring readily to mind:
1. should have personal assistant or
2. should become host of brilliant Travel Channel show (with personal assistant paid for by employer) or
3. should procrastinate above task (and academic projects due) with indulgent writing.

whilst is mostly nice to be back home, it lessens one's joy when the washing machine plug appears to have had a small fire break out at base recently (result: washing machine shockingly inoperative). and when realty company is staffed by idiotic, yet amazingly verbally skilled, sloths.

on the bright side, the kitchen sink now accepts the flow of water through drain. and stove works again. and i have chocolate digestive biscuits.

at this point, have been gone most of past 14 days into fantasy world of leisure and sadly must return to "reality" (or my version thereof). these 14 days, though, have been grrrrrreat and will be documented at some crucial procrastinatory point in very near future. (i thought had cunningly made new word here, but alas... Am also slightly alarmed that there is a link on referenced page to Procrastinators of America. I do not plan to visit this site as is probably full of viruses and spyware. The funny thing is that this group actually got around to organizing themselves into something with a title -- does this actually allow them to still qualify as true procrastinators?)

London calling (again)

"Why, Sir, you find no man, at all intellectual, who is willing to leave London. No, Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford."

--Samuel Johnson

Later on this morning (mercy, did I really spend that much time watching Little Britain tonight? and now, have not packed a stitch of clothing.), 6.50 am to be precise, we are toddling off to London! I feel quite snootily conceited to be "heading off to London" a second week in a row :)

Yes, of course, we have an agenda. Me, myself and I are in charge of this so there should be no questioning of the ridiculosity of planning and worrying that I do. Not that we'll actually get to everything on the agenda, but an attack plan is nevertheless good. Helene will partake in initial day of plan, so that will be excellent fun. Lisa, however, has no desire whatsoever to ice skate, so perhaps will have to plan additional trip to London for this exciting experience soon. Am 5 years old.

Really must go to bed. But....

... after New Year's evening food ritual, would like to thank:
Paul for the excellent peas; (For some unknown reason, decided to cook the entire bag and now will be eating Variations on a Theme of Peas for weeks to come. Good thing I like peas.)
Ms. Maurice for the excellent cornbread mix;
Whoever picked the cabbage that I purchased at Central Market and cooked;
God for making the cabbage;
My family for their loyal support;
And my wonderful fans for their undying love and affection.

I love you all.

(it is really quite late.) kiss, kiss!

calennig 2006

so here we all are in 2006.

WHAT??????!!!!!!!!?????

and lisa and ben and i have returned home from sociological observation of the nightlife of cardiff. hee hee. it is quite amusing :) both the observation and the reaction thereto.

more will certainly be written of the progression of lisa and ben through england (to R)

scotland (to L)

and wales (below). there have, so far, been two lectures on the fact that wales is NOT england. smirk.





note: the Best Christmas Ever was had in London with Karsten, Helene and Ulla! it also snowed on Tuesday morning.
note: there was SNOW in York!!!!!!
note: there was more cold in Edinburgh. (I Love Cold!)
note: i advised against extreme cold-weather clothes, since i walk at the speed of a Racing Snail (from the Never-Ending Story) and sweat unattractively everywhere i go. this was bad advice.
note: today (or yesterday, technically) is/was Oma's anniversary. New Year's Eve is a good wedding anniversary, i think.
note: it is very late (2.58 a.m.)-- BUT i now have a friend to drive around Wales with ... a girl from New York named Charlotte who has just recovered her housemates (this includes Andrew, and yes, i am acquainted with her -- i do not admit random persons into the Hobbit Hole)and thereby her way inside her house, and left for home. being kind and answering one's door is a good thing.
note: going to bed now.