One Gorgeous Saturday...

Howdy...the week has gone quickly here--I was off with a nasty cold Monday and Tuesday this week, and have been recovering since. From the number of kids with sniffly noses I tutored this week, they (colds, that is) seem to have been going around. Enjoyed tutoring even more than usual this week. I made a cup of tea for one kid with a sore throat and he really appreciated the effort, and I had a good laugh with another kid over his misreading of operation as "opertion" and his mis-spelling of umbrella as "umbrelly." He laughed and laughed for about five minutes, and I decided to join him rather than try to move on. I've heard that kids learn more when they're having fun, so perhaps he'll remember the funny moment and the correct spelling of umbrella the next time he needs that word.

I got news yesterday morning that good friends from my Stirling community are expecting their first baby, so I took the opportunity to call them last night to congratulate them. It was fun to chat with Bethany again and find out how her pregnancy is progressing.

This morning I did some work on completing some tutoring reports--my kids have come in staggered clumps, so some are just finished now, and others will be going right until the end of July. I've also gotten out for walks around Barking a couple of time today. It has been beautiful here this week--high 20s and sunny, just the kind of weather I had been missing. I found out some of my British friends don't appreciate it though...some of them were finding it too hot and were wishing it would cool down a bit. I was called a "hardy Canadian type" by someone on Facebook--I knew Canadians were famous for being able to stand all kinds of cold weather, but I didn't really think that enjoying 27-28 C was meritorious of the "hardy" moniker. After dinner, I walked up the road to check out a little place called "Afters." My friend Karen, who's coming in a month and I are both fans of the "Just Desserts" chain in Canada, and this was along the same lines. Waffles, cakes, milkshakes, a full ice cream bar, lassis and Indian milkshakes (yes, there is a high Indian population in the community) are all on the menu. From my brief examination, it looks like a good spot to come some evening--certainly my ice cream was quite satisfactory. I had a good chinwag with Karen this afternoon too--as it's been a pretty quiet weekend here, it's nice just to catch up with friends from back home who I haven't talked to in a while. We're busy planning the details for our epic trip around Europe in August. Stay tuned for more details...she's bringing her laptop with her, so I will be able to update my blog while on the trip.

I'm going to Wood Green again tomorrow. Will, our usual song leader just left for China yesterday to meet his fiance there. They will get married on July 3, honeymoon there, and then he comes back here alone for three months or so until she is able to be cleared by the immigration people--they have to be married already before the application can be finalized, so she will come over and join him in October or so. Since Chris, our other musician is back in the States for two months, I have volunteered to take over music leadership for the few weeks until Will is back.

In other Wood Green news, the London Mennonite Centre trustees have made a decision to sell all of the property at which the current LMC is based. They will be finding an interim location, with the intention of buying and settling in a new location, probably in North or East London by fall 2011. This will certainly have implications for the Mennonite church, which has long had a strong connection to the LMC--almost half of our members live at, or are employed within the LMC. In addition, the church has traditionally used the LMC for fellowship meals and communion suppers, and indeed had been hoping to be able to move worship services from the current location (the fellowship hall of a Baptist church) to the LMC. Wood Green and the LMC are deeply enmeshed with each other, so this decision to sell the current LMC building will have profound impacts on the congregation--where we worship, how we do church, etc.

Hope this finds you all healthy and happy.

Julie

Strawberries!

Greetings again. Last time I wrote, Emily and I had just finished our trip through the Cotswolds and a visit to Windsor Castle. A quiet two weeks has passed since then...I've been tutoring three days a week since the half-term, which is quite fine by me--I enjoy it more than supply.

Last night, David and I went to the Sound of Music Singalong at the Prince Charles Theatre in Central London. Though I had been to a similar singalong in Waterloo a few years ago, this was something else. People came dressed as everything from the hills to ray: a drop of golden sun, to boys in Austrian lederhosen, a good imitation of Leisl, and of course lots of nuns in various forms. First Candy Floss (decked out in a gauzy pink outfit) came out to prep us for the event. We each received a bag with various props (little cards dsplaying things like the will'o the wisp from How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?) to be taken out and held up in the air at the appropriate time. She gave us instructions about what to hold up when, and proceeded to rehearse us through these cues: we were to bleat like sheep for four minutes at the beginning as the camera zooms in on the Austrian landscape, holler our lungs out whenever we saw Maria, say a collective "Awwww..." whenever the von Trapp children came on the screen, bark for Ralph, hiss for the Baroness (and meow whenever she was particularly catty--from the people around me, one would gather that every word she uttered was mean and spiteful) and boo the Nazis. Candy's mic level was about 30 decibels too loud in my view, and I found the whole thing more than a bit overdone. Then to top it all off, we got a sideshow shortly after the intermission when two drunken nuns in the audience stood up and started duking it out, volleying insults and obscenities at each other, impervious to the increasingly hostile response of audience members around them to knock it off and shut up, until two security officers finally hauled them away after two or three such outbursts. The dad beside me (plus many others) kept up an almost constant cacophony of bleats, awws, hisses, meows, yahoos, boos, and barking throughout. it was an experience...but not one I think I will pay to see again.

This week I have been wanting to discover some of the London farmers' markets around. My mother was telling me about their bumper strawberry crop this year last weekend, and since I can't pick me own as I'd really like to, I was really itching to at least taste a real strawberry again. So I set off this morning for Parliament Hill Farmers' Market. I took the Overground train from Barking to Gospel Oak and then it was a short ten minute walk to the market. My visit was definitely worthwhile: I picked up some very luscious-looking strawberries (four baskets) and raspberries, from the dealer who seemed to have the best produce available--this was confirmed by another customer who remarked to his partner that this producer was the best. Having tasted both the strawberries and raspberries, I can confirm I was not disappointed...a little piece of heaven here on earth. I also picked up some asparagus and tomatoes, as well as a few individual quiches that I can freeze for quick shool-night dinners. Finally I also found a table of stunning baked goods, and succumbed to the millionaire's shortbread.

the haul from this morning...

Tomorrow, I'm going to a barbecue hosted by Erin (one of my teacher friends from Nipissing) and her housemates. I can hardly believe I'm getting close to halfway through my time here. I arrived last September, and my visa ends August 2011. This year as 22 seconds! :)

Windsor Castle

One of the things Emily wanted to do while she was here was to visit a castle with classic castle features (turrets, keep, suits of armour, etc) that was older than anything she could see in Canada. With this criteria in mind, she chose Windsor Castle for our last day together in London.

On Saturday morning, Emily and I took the tube to Waterloo station where we caught a South West train to Windsor and Eton Riverside, the nearest station. From there, it was a five-minute walk to the castle. The seemingly lengthy line actually moved pretty quickly once we queued up.

We're wearing free audio guides around our necks to give us information about the different buildings.

We got lots of pictures of the outside of the buildings; no pictures were allowed within any of the buildings. We visited St. George's chapel, the final resting place of Henry VIII as well as Charles VI, I believe.

For me, seeing Queen Mary's doll house was a highlight. Princess Marie Louise, granddaughter of Queen Victoria, wanted to give her gcousin Queen Mary a gift and since Mary collected lots of miniature things, she chose to give her this dollhouse--a mini-replica of Buckhingham Palace--complete with running water and electricity. In addition, it was to be a monument for posterity of how the royal family lived. Many different artisans came together to provide the different pieces of furniture, everything from a bathtub to a bicycle or a chandalier. It was completed in 1924.

Close-up of the castle wall.

Then we walked through the state apartments all beautifully furnished. The grand reception hall was especially impressive with its gold leaf decor. Some of the rooms had magnificent paintings covering the ceilings, and there was one room for the Queen to gather with her knights, and a number of rooms for various kinds of functions with important international guests. Emily got into an interesting discussion with one of the tour guides about the lead crystal in the chandaliers.

An old door at the exit gate.

We left around 4:30 and got home in time to make a quick supper and then get off to bed. Sunday morning we were up at 4:40 to catch four buses to Gatwick airport (no trains running before 7 on Sunday). After checking her in, we went to a sparsely attended Anglican service in the airport chapel, where we met a British woman travelling to Toronto on the same flight as Emily. We chatted with her for a bit, and then I said goodbye to both of them and left them at the security gate.

I managed to make it back in time for the end of the church lunch at the LMC...without even bringing a contribution this time. Good food as always. I love being part of a church that values potlucks!

Oliver and the Cotswolds

It has been a good and busy week-and-a-half since I updated my blog. I had intended to blog last night, but a sudden drain on my laptop battery despite being plugged in prevented that from happening. Fortunately, a nearby laptop repair place was able to repair the problem quickly and inexpensively this afternoon with a new power cord for 22 quid.

I met Emily at Gatwick last Sunday morning. I forgot to give her all my contact information, so Immigration was rather unwilling to let her through, but after I contacted them and gave them some information she was allowed through.

We had a nice picnic in Green Park on Monday with David, and then went to see Oliver (Twist) that night. I was quite impressed with the props and different scenes they portrayed, from the church workhouse for orphans, to the funeral director's business where Oliver was sold into servitude, to the underground haunt of Fagin and company, to the streets of London, and Mr Brownell's house, and even the bridge where Mr. Brownell arranged to meet Nancy at midnight.

Tuesday, we began our trek through the Cotswolds. For the uninitiated, the Cotswolds is English cottage country, a quieter area away from the noise and rush of the city, with lots of sheep and horse farms scattered around. Lots of medieval villages and trails which are the remains of old (in some cases, Roman) roads dot the landscape. The Cotswolds are in southcentral England. If you find Birmingham, Cardiff, and London on the map, the Cotswolds are roughly in the centre of that triangle. Tuesday afternoon, we took the train from London Paddington up to Moreton-in-Marsh. As we didn't get started as early as hoped, and because it was raining when we arrived, we decided to scrap the idea to walk to Chipping Campden that evening, and chose to take the bus instead. We got settled at The Volunteer Inn that evening, so named because in the eighteenth century it was the office where men volunteered for the army. Then we headed out to find some supper. Emily was impressed with the cost of food at the pub we went to for dinner.

Moreton-in-Marsh main street

Wednesday, we set out about 9 am on the Cotswold Way, a trail of many historical roads/trails that has been recently established as a national trail. The area we traveled through was part of a nationally-designated AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty). It was not difficult to see why it should be so called. Even shrouded in mist, it was breathtaking...lovely old stone homes with ivy growing up the walls, thatched roofs, brambly roses climbing the lattice, nestled amongst rolling pasturelands with sheep quietly grazing around us. What really surprised me was how the trail led straight through the middle of sheep pastures, or around the perimeter of wheat fields. These private properties have "public bridleways" cut through them, public access for hikers, equestrians, and cyclists.

Just outside Chipping Campden on the Cotswold Way

We got to Broadway Tower shortly after 11 am, and spent some time going up the tower where we had a lovely view of the surrounding area (each side of the tower had a sign telling us what we could see 5, 15, 25, and 50 miles away). The Tower itself was also called the "Earl's Folly," as it was created more for show than defence. One popular story sugests that the three turrets were for the earl's three wives. After another hour-long walk, we arrived in Broadway about 1 pm. Broadway was a beautiful town with tourist prices to match--like an older version of St. Jacobs, I'd say.

The town of Broadway

After spending the afternoon in Broadway, we headed out to our B and B accomodation, three miles out of town. It felt like a rather long walk after already walking 8 miles that day and we were glad to reach our destination around 6 pm. Our host was out at a golf game when we arrived, so we let ourselves in (she'd left the key in the door) and settled in. When she got home she made us sandwiches and left squares for us to eat. After a long day, we headed to bed in good time.

The next day, we decided to take the bus to Stanton, owing to Emily's blistered feet. Stanton is a secluded little village, a bedroom community where gardens are meticulously groomed and there is no rubbish on the streets at all. It felt rather like Whitevale to me--though again, much older. I loved all the old stone walls around, no mortar used, just stones roughly set one on top of the other. Stones and greenery combine in an organic way everywhere, as seen in the steps below.

Flower-covered steps in the village of Stanton

A quiet street in the sleepy town of Stanton

A home in Stanton

After spending a few hours in Stanton, we walked back out to the B4632 (the road that ran past Stanton) and hopped on the bus to Winchcombe. We arrived in Winchcombe shortly before 5 pm. We dropped off our knapsacks at our B and B accomodation and then set out to explore a bit. Winchcombe was not as showy as either Broadway or Stanton, but interesting in its own way too. After dinner, we went out walking a bit--Emily had gotten some bandages that were easing her

walking ability--and spent some time communing with the sheep in the pasture nearby, which Emily especially enjoyed. She managed to stroke a few sheep briefly before they ran away.

Emily on the main street in Winchcombe

On Friday, we took the bus into Cheltenham from Winchcombe and walked through the centre of Cheltenham to get to the train station to take us back to London. After some of the beautiful places we had seen, Cheltenham didn't impress me as much, but perhaps I was just jaded after our previous experiences. On Wednesday, we were snapping pictures left and right everywhere we turned!

We had English cream tea while waiting on the platform for the train to come in. That included a scone with jam and clotted cream (which is about halfway between butter and whipped cream) and a cup of tea.

After getting back to London, we joined some friends from the London Mennonite Centre for a game of Settlers...first time I've played since leaving Canada. That was fun, and we decided we should do it again sometime. Emily had very much enjoyed her time and was already commenting she wished she could stay another week.

After getting home around 9, we made plans to go to Windsor Castle the next day. I'll blog about that sometime in the next night or two.

Odds and Sods...

Hello again. This blog entry is a mish-mash of lots of little details.

I got up at 6:30 this morning to go and meet Emily at the airport. After showering, I went online to check her flight status fortunately, for I suddenly realized that her flight is scheduled to leave Toronto at 21:50 tonight, May 29, arriving at 9:55 tomorrow morning. I had misread it as she was arriving 9:55 on May 29. So I took the opportunity to go to a walk-in clinic about a persistent sore throat/tickly cough I've had the last week or two to make sure it wasn't anything serious. The message I got was that it's a virus and Ibuprofin and hot drinks/good hydration are the best remedy. It's a rainy, uninspiring day here, so I think I'll do a bit of planning for my tutoring students and then relax with a good book or movie...maybe a puzzle.

This is an example of the clothing collection flyers that come through our mail slot at least twice a week here every week without fail. They promise that you are helping people in Britain who collect, grade, and transport the clothing, and people in Third World countries who earn money sorting them, and who can access inexpensive clothing. I'm less than certain about the benefits to the Third World nations receiving this charity, but they must have a lot of people convinced given how many different organizations send around weekly or bi-weekly flyers soliciting my unwanted clothes.
This is a map showing the approximate route of my trip around Europe with Karen this August. (We've revised the schedule since I drew this map, so the numbers don't all conincide perfectly.) The stopping points are as follows: 1) London; 2) Paris; 3) Bruges (Belgium); 4) near Koln (Germany: to visit IVEP friends); 5) Amsterdam; 6)Berlin; 7) via Prague to Vienna; 8) Salzburg; 9) Ingolstadt (near Munich, to visit another IVEP friend); 10) Zurich (Switzerland); 11) Bern (Switzerland: to visit another IVEP friend); 12) Venice; 13) Rome; 14) Cinque Terre (Italy) 15) Avignon (France) via Nice; 16) Barcelona (Spain); 17) Lisbon (Portugal).
And this is a picture of Primrose Hill, where I had a picnic with Theresa and Jess (Cdn teacher friends) last Saturday. The weather was gorgeous and the hill afforded a nice view of London as you can see in the picture above.

Another Week Almost Over

It's hard to believe May is practically over. I've had a good week this week, supplying in Yr. 3 and 4 classrooms for the first half of the week. This morning, I was in a rush on the way to work and then I walked through Dagenham East tube station. Beethoven's 9th was playing: not the big, brash "Let's get 'im, boys" triumphal anthem where the orchestral and choral forces all come together, but the serene chamber statement of the theme. Like Kennedy station in Toronto, Dagenham East always plays classical (and usually string quartets and other chamber music) music. It helped me to relax into another day.

One more day of tutoring this week, and then I'm off for another week of vacation. My friend Emily arrives on Saturday morning from Toronto, and I'll be spending the week with her, touring around London and hiking around English cottage country. We're taking the train up to Moreton-on-the-Marsh and then hiking to Chipping Campden. We're walking along the Cotswold Trail over the next three days, through old medieval (and maybe even a Roman) villages dotted throughout the countryside. I hope to get lots of pictures of picturesque thatched cottages and such.

I'll be updating with photos next week.

Cheerio.

An Afternoon with Michael Rosen

The school I tutor at had a visit from Michael Rosen today. Rosen, for the uninitiated, is a fantastic children's poet and novelist, the fifth Children's Laureate (2007-2009) with a wonderful sense of humour that everyone can relate to. He told us stories and recited poems based on his family relationships. The way he related things and the facial and vocal expressions he used had the kids in stitches for most of the hour-plus assembly. I went out to an ATM after school in order to have some cash to buy a few of his books.

This was my favourite poem of his.

Washing Up:

On Sundays,

my mom and dad said,

'Right, we've cooked the dinner,

you two can wash it up,'

and then they went off to the front room.

So then we began.

First there was a row about who

was to wash and who was to dry.

My brother said, 'You're too slow at washing,

I have to hang about waiting for you,'

so I said,

'You always wash, it's not fair.'

'Hard cheese,' he says,

'I'm doing it.'

So that was that.

'Whoever dries has to stack the dishes,'

he says,

so that's me stacking the dishes

while he's getting the water ready.

Now,

quite often we used to have mustard

with our Sunday dinner

and we didn't have it out of a tube,

one of us used to make it with the powder

in an eggcup

and there was nearly always

some left over.

Anyway,

my brother

he'd be washing up by now

and he's standing there at the sink

his hands in the water,

I'm drying up,

and suddenly he goes,

'Quick, quick quick

come over here

quick, you'll miss it

quick, you'll miss it.'

'What?' I say, 'What?'

'Quick, quick. In here,

in the water.'

I say,

'What? What?'

'Give us your hand,' he says

and he grabs my hand

then my finger,

'What?' I say,

'That,' he says,

and he pulls my finger under the water

and stuffs it into the eggcup

with left-over blobs of old mustard

stuck to the bottom.

It's all slimey.

'Oh Horrible.'

I was an idiot to have believed him.

So I go on drying up.

Suddenly

I feel a speck of water on my neck.

I look up at the ceiling.

Where did that come from?

I look at my brother

he's grinning all over his big face.

'Oy, cut that out,'

He grins again

sticks his finger under the water

in the bowl and

flicks.

Plip.

'Oy, that got me right on my face.'

'Did it? did it? did it?'

He's well pleased.

So now it's my turn

I've got the drying up cloth, haven't I?

And I've been practicing for ages

on the kitchen door handle.

Now he's got his back to me

washing up

and

out goes the cloth, like a whip, it goes

right on the--

'Ow--that hurt. I didn't hurt you.'

Now it's me grinning.

So he goes,

'All right, let's call it quits.'

'OK,' I say, 'one-all. Fairy squarey.'

So I go on drying up.

What I don't know is that

he's got the Fairy Liquid bottle under the

water

boop boop boop boop boop boop

It's filling up

with dirty soapy water

and next thing it's out of the water

and he's gone squeeesh

and squirted it right in my face.

'Got you in the mush,' he goes.

'Right, that's it,' I say,

'I've had enough.'

And I go upstairs and get

this old bicycle cape I've got,

one of those capes you can wear

when you ride a bicycle in the rain.

So I come down in that

and I say,

'OK, I'm ready for anything you've got now.

You can't get me now, can you?'

So next thing he's got the little

washing-up brush

and it's got little bits of meat fat

and squashed peas stuck in it

and he's come up to me

and he's in, up, under the cape with it

working it round and round

under my jumper, under my chin.

So that really makes me really wild

and I make a grab for anything that'll

hold water; dip it in the sink

and fling it at him.

What I don't know is that while I went upstairs to get the cape

he's got a secret weapon ready.

It's his bicycle pump,

he's loaded it with the dirty washing-up water

by sucking it all in.

He picks it up,

and it's squirt again.

All over my hair.

Suddenly the door opens.

'Have you finished the...?'

It's Mum AND Dad.

'Just look at this.

Look at the pair of them.'

And there's water all over the floor

all over the table

and all we've washed up is

two plates and the mustard pot.

My dad says,

'You can't be trusted to doanything you're asked,

can you.'

He always says that.

Mind you, the floor was pretty clean

after we had mopped it all up.