Apologies for the long silence... I've been hard at work, writing and analyzing what little data I have for my dissertation. 

Contrary to what any calendar I've seen says, the British summer begins after Easter, not on 21st June.  With the spring forward and longer days, it seems that a great gloom lifts and even the rainy days aren't so bad because sunshine is not far behind.  I got my first sunburn of the season - as did many others - yesterday.  It was 21C (68F) and beautifully sunny out.  Red tulips have replaced the white narcissus that blanket the strips of grass that lie on either side of the Avenue, the road that leads west, from Trinity back gate to the Backs.  There seem to be more tourists than ever, many of whom don't seem to think twice about treading on the delicate blooms in order to get a picture of themselves with the Wren Library in the background. 

I have not been outdoors, much.  My only time outside is when I have the chance to go out for a row in my single.  The boat seems to like the Cam, and I've gotten used to the twists and turns.  There are many ducks on the river and a few swans.  The ducks are smart enough to get out of the way, but the swans can be very aggressive.  One in particular has become notorious with scullers, as it will watch a boat approach and then fluff up its wings and chase the boat.  It has nipped at my blades a couple of times, and I'm hoping it recognises that I usually give it a really wide berth whenever possible. 

My other guilty pleasure is cooking things.  I've never been really fond of baking because of the measuring that is required, but like to tinker around the kitchen.  I'm no Julia Child, but I can get things on a plate, well enough.  I'm not planning to quit my day job anytime soon, but I can hope that we'll always have something tasty to eat.  I am thankful for the relaxing aspect that comes with preparing a meal, as it is an outlet I've used to de-stress when the writing isn't quite happening for me.  Tonight, we had a spinach, leek and seafood risotto for dinner.  I splurged the last time I was at the market and bought some crayfish tails, shrimp and mussels.  The other night, I made a seafood chowder with a beautiful piece of trout, the crayfish and shrimp.  I saved the mussels for a dish I'll make tomorrow... I think mussels a la mariniere (mussels cooked in a garlicky white wine and tomato reduction).  There is this riesling I use for cooking - pretty much the cheapest wine on the shelves, but it tastes fine (on my fairly inexperienced pallette).  I get carded every once in a while, as the purchasing age for alcohol is 18 in this country.  The last time I bought wine the woman at the checkout asked me, 'now how old shall I say you are?'  When I told her I was 31 and showed her my identification, she still didn't seem to believe me and said, 'now you're having me on!' But she let me buy the wine anyway.  I'm wondering whether she thought she'd catch me later, sitting in a back alleyway, guzzling it out of the bottle.  Not so much my idea of fun. 

But the baking.  So much measuring and having to mix things in order and no improvising.  Or so I thought.  I figured out there is actually wiggle room when I started to bake bread more regularly.  It's more about the texture and baking conditions than getting the measurements exactly right.  So, I started to become a little more interested in baking and moved on to cookies, substituting grated apple for oil - that kind of thing.  Part of the problem was that sometimes I'd end up with something great, but had no idea how I got there.  I've begun to pay more attention to my little forays away from the recipe and remember most of them. 

Today, after weeks of craving a dense yet moist chocolate cake, I decided to bake one because the ones in the shops just didn't look like they'd taste very good.  I really meant to follow the directions, but didn't and it turned out very well anyway.  This is my revised recipe:

Chocolate Torte

1/2 cup margarine or butter

1 cup sugar

2 eggs

3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Wet:

1 cup boiling water

1/2 cup baking cocoa

1 Tablespoon instant decaf coffee granules 

50 grammes belgian plain chocolate (8 squares of a regular-sized bar?)

Dry:

1 1/3 cup + 1 Tablespoon flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350F/175C (use an oven thermometer if you have one).  Cream together fat and sugar.  Beat in eggs, one at a time.  Add vanilla and mix well.

Combine 'wet' ingredients well (the chocolate melts more easily if broken up first).  In a separate bowl, combine 'dry' ingredients.  Add wet and dry ingredients alternately to the creamed mixture and blend all well. 

Pour the batter into muffin tin/cake pan/whatever.  Bake for 20 minutes if cupcakes, 25 if cake.  DO NOT OPEN THE OVEN FOR THE FIRST 15 MINUTES.  If you're like me and forget what time it was when you first looked at your watch, set a timer. 

The result is a moist, non-oily (I don't like oily cakes), chocolate cake that is just sweet enough but not over-the-top sweet/chocolatey.  I reduced the amount of sugar from the original recipe, but then I think I cancelled it out by adding the chocolate later on.  Oh well.  Tasty, anyway.

Apparently, that is the cool way to refer to Cambridge (1223 is the area code)... so cool that no one knows about it.  Until now.

We had a whirlwind tour of New England last week, where we tried to get as much done as possible.  There were three or four big tasks we HAD to achieve, and the rest of the time was spent with family and friends.   Somehow, together, this was all very exhausting.  I guess it doesn't help that both Geoff and I were up until all hours doing work in the two or three weeks before we flew out to the States.  To have that amount of time away from the library was strange, and to leave the laptops and books (all right, most of them) behind gave us both pangs of anxiety.  To spend time with our families, however, was worth it. 

We flew into New York from Stansted, which was a first for both of us.  Stansted is less than an hour from Cambridge and the main terminal is about the size of Bradley International Airport.  There are trains that bring passengers to the departure areas, and the general feeling is stress-free, as opposed to the frantic feeling I get when I fly through Heathrow or Gatwick.  Unfortunately, there is only one flight a day to JFK, as airlines flying from Stansted mainly travel to the Continent.  The American Airlines terminal at JFK was also a relatively stress-free zone and so I appreciate that our travel went relatively smoothly.  We had heard murmurings that the AA flight to Stansted had been cancelled the day before, and multiple flights were delayed or cancelled as we waited for our flight.  Since Geoff had to leave for warm weather training the next day, we worried that our flight would be cancelled as well, but, thankfully, it wasn't.

It is difficult to grasp that I've been back for almost a week.  I spent much of the weekend trying to get back on the correct timezone and think I'm finally on British Summer Time. 

There are a few peculiarities about our flat that we have dealt with over the past six months.  When we first moved in, we found it odd that there was no exhaust fan in the kitchen, so we would open the windows every time we cooked anything and wave any smoke frantically away from the heat sensor so as to not set it off.  Two months later, I was cleaning and found a vent above a cupboard over the refrigerator (which made the vent really hard to see, unless you were standing in a specific spot in the kitchen).  I had noticed a switch on the wall opposite the stove, but had thought it didn't go to anything because nothing had happened in the past.  Upon climbing up to the vent and pulling a cord, and then flicking the switch, all of a sudden an exhaust fan was discovered!  Oh happy day.  (I cook a lot, and we were growing tired of living in fear of the heat alarm going off.) 

Today, I was sitting in the front room and for some reason was fiddling with the curtains and found an internet hub in the oddest location.  Mind you, we scoured this room when we first moved in, thinking that it would be odd to not have an internet connection in the room with a desk.  Somehow, we didn't think it would be hidden behind the curtain all the way in the corner.  I wonder what we'll find next week?

With Easter around the corner, I wonder whether the Easter bunny is about.  The Easter mallards are in the neighbourhood, for sure.  I saw them this afternoon, when I looked out the window to see the flurries (there was an assortment of rain, sleet, flurries, and wind today).  The ducks were hanging out in the grassy area behind our flat, not minding the strange weather.  They did, however, get up and waddle away when they saw us looking out at them.

It seems that Easter has exploded, around here, in a similar manner that Christmas did.  There are so many kinds of Easter-related treats in the shops, ranging from small chocolates in the shape of lambs, bunnies and ducks, to every type of chocolate egg imagineable.  There are: Smartie-filled eggs, Rolo eggs, Cadbury creme eggs (big and small sizes), Crunchie eggs, Mr. Potato Eggs (with face-shaped pieces of chocolate that you stick on with chocolate glue), truffle-filled eggs, chocolate button-filled eggs, and speckled chocolate eggs.   There are eggs decorated with different types of chocolate, and egg hunt packages that consist of foil-covered chocolate eggs of all sizes.  I guess the chocolate eggs hunt replaces the dyed hard boiled eggs of my childhood.  That was my favourite part of Easter eggs - a few nights before Easter, my sister and I would dye the eggs.  Of course, there would be the bickering and squabbles over what colours to do, and what patterns we would have, and which eggs were the prettiest (mine were - of course!  haha - I think if it was dark and you couldn't see my eggs, maybe they were prettier, then!).  I am not sure when we stopped doing the dyed eggs, but it is one of those things for which I have fond memories.  I like the tradition for the simple reason that it is a time when families do something creative together.  One year, when I have eggs at Eastertime, maybe I'll start dying them again.  I just have to remember to buy eggs.  And vinegar and food colouring. 

Happy Easter!  It's the earliest Easter we'll have in 200 years, apparently.

It has been very windy these last few days.  Something like 'March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb' comes to mind.  Nevertheless, one still has to go outside to brave the gales, and much of the time, it seems as though a lot of pedalling goes on but not much forward movement happens.  At this point, I've learned to not believe the weather forcast when it says 'the forecast will be predominantly sunny'.  On the other hand, when it says 'the forecast will be predominantly windy' I do take it seriously.  Cold is relative, in my mind, as the winter has been very mild, though many here say it has been cold.  There may have been one or two legitimately cold days in February, but nothing very far from freezing. 

Much work on at the moment, which is why posts have been few and far between.  I assure you, much time has been spent in the library (quiet, and only third year undergraduates allowed, not to mention the graduate students) and not in the pub (too many tourists and undergraduates)!  Somehow, in a moment of insanity (or clarity), I got it into my head to perform an analysis of baptisms and burials for fenland and nearby parishes, as it would be the key to an original contribution in my dissertation.  I haven't been able to talk myself out of it, as it still seems like a good idea... much work awaits me.

What a day! 

We began the day with an earthquake (5.2, epicentre in Lincoln, which is just north of us) which was the largest one in England since 1984.  The BBC say that one is expected every 10-20 years, so it was about time for one.  We were awakened by the shaking - it was only about 10 seconds - I thought it was a Geoff shaking his legs out in bed, then when I was more awake, I thought it was a large truck.  Geoff thought it was an earthquake and my response was, 'no! they don't get earthquakes around here, it's too flat!'  I stand corrected and still don't know what my reasoning was.  As far as earthquakes go, it was no big deal.  Someone described it as a very 'English' earthquake and I'm not sure why.  I've amused myself by thinking of reasons.  The top three are: 1) the earthquake waited politely, in a queue of some kind, before going, 2) the earthquake apologised profusely for the disturbance it caused, 3) while a stir was caused, it didn't hurt anyone.  I'll have to look into that, as it has piqued my curiosity.

The other excitement of today was day 2 of the Lent Bumps.  'Lents', if you will.  Yesterday, the lower divisions competed, and today, the top men and women's divisions competed.  Trinity First and Third were Head of the River for Lents last year, and so started the races in front.  They successfully rowed, unbumped, and will begin tomorrow's racing at the front again. 

A quick bumps tutorial: boats line up in order of finish from the previous year.  They are separated by ~90 feet, I think, and there are three cannons that go off at 4 minutes before, 1 minute before, and at the start.  They are little cannons, but the bang scared the bejeezus out of me today, as I wasn't expecting it.  Each crew has a bank party that rides alongside to cheer them on and to tell them whether another crew is gaining on them.  Someone usually has a stopwatch which they synchronise with the first cannon, and the countdown begins.  When the second cannon goes, the boats are pushed out into the middle of the river using poles and the coxswain holds onto a chain that is attached to the bank.  Both the pole and the chain help maintain the distance between boats.  Once the third cannon goes, the coxswain drops the chain, the rowers begin the start phase, and the mayhem begins. 

Each boat has 2 objectives: to physically bump the boat in front of them and to avoid being bumped from behind.  Once contact has been made between two boats, the coxswain of the bumped boat puts up their hand to acknowledge the bump and both boats must clear the river immediately so that the boats behind them can continue to race, if they haven't already bumped.  The boat that made the bump (the bump-er) moves up a spot in the order of boats and the bumpee moves down a spot.  With the following day's boat order established, the races continue until the end of the week.  The bump-er rowers, while they are pulled over to the side of the river and don't have much to do, decorate themselves with greenery, which harks back to the days when boats were decorated with garlands (and flowers?) after a bump was achieved.  This lets spectators know whether a boat bumped or was bumped/maintained their position. 

I was following the First and Third boat, and Jesus was following behind.  The Jesus coach seems easily excitable and unfortunately can't do two things at once (very well).  He was concentrating very hard on yelling at his crew, and didn't seem to notice that he was all over the towpath.  At some point, he was behind me, and steered straight into me, nearly knocking me into the river.  At that point, I exclaimed, 'Jeezus!' not realising just how accurate I was.  To his credit, he said, 'sorry sorry sorry' as he rode by and bumped me again before we were clear of each other. 

I think that - with the little cannons and the excitement of it all - bumps are much more exciting than any kind of racing I've ever seen!

I had my one and only Day School on Saturday, at Madingley Hall, where my course is based.  This time I rode my bike out there, as the bus service is very irregular, and I did not get stung by a bee. 

The estate is beautiful and the gardens, even in winter (there's no snow on the ground - how can it be winter?) are well-kept and are inviting to the odd stroll.  It is about 5 and a half miles from where we live, and apparently it is where Prince Charles lived when he was a student at Trinity. 

Most of the time I was there, I was in a little room listing to a tutorial on how to use Microsoft Word and how to use the electronic resources at the University Library.  I think it would have been useful, had I not 1) grown up with computers and 2) been using the electronic resources since September.  What was useful was to finally meet other people who are on my course, and to hear about the research they are doing.  It's a very lonely process, when there's just yourself for motivation.  Somehow, it helps to know there are others in the same situation.

There was this guy who recently got caught by the Trinity College porters posing as an undergraduate maths student.  He had swiped someone's ID card, broken into another student's computer account, and was found to be using Trinity's facilities, uninvited.  I had seen him lurking around one of the rooms meant for students only, and had a couple of brief conversations with him.  There was an article about him in the Varsity, the University weekly newspaper, that outlined his shady activity around the College, and I have mixed feelings about the issue.  He used the facilities and interacted with members of the College for about 7 months before he was caught, which makes me wonder: how many others like him are there?  Luckily, the porters make it a point to become familiar with every member of college, but if someone blends in well-enough, they can pass undetected a bit longer than the average intruder. 

One thing that may not be clear about the college system at Cambridge and Oxford is that the colleges are separate entities under the umbrella of their respective institutions.  They have their own personalities, as it were, and there is little intercollegiate mixing that goes on.  Each college boasts its strengths and has an array of features that makes them unique, such as a strong science background, or the most Nobel laureates.  Colleges have their own bars, libraries and sports facilities (if they are well-endowed - such as boathouses, cricket pitches, playing fields, and weight rooms).  Members of other colleges are allowed to use them, but with reservation.  The only time that members of colleges are more fully integrated seems to be in three places: lectures, the University Library and the Cambridge University sports clubs (ie the Boat Club, Athletics Club, Rugby Club, etc.).  Even then, one's identity seems to be established by their college, where the mentioning of certain colleges is received with either respect or distain.  I must admit, I enjoy the benefits that come with being affiliated with Trinity. 

I am in the writing stage of my dissertation at this point.  I have done much research and have the introduction and literature review written; however, my problem is that I don't really know what my argument is.  All I know is that I think they probably should have bathed more in 18th-century England, but the coating of grime and dirt probably elevated their immune systems to levels we would never imagine possible. 

I had a lovely day today.  Geoff and I took the train in to London for the day - the first time we'd been out of Cambridge since before Christmas - and had a good jaunt around Bloomsbury.  We started our day at the Wellcome Collection, which is my new favorite place of all time.  There are two main galleries, Medicine Man and Medicine something-else-I-can't-remember, that have on display bits of Henry Wellcome's collection and issues in modern-day medicine, respectively.  I became a member of the Collection back in December, as I fell in love with the place upon first introduction, and this allows me use of the library as well as a member's-only lounge.  Very cool (albeit nerdy) club.  Unfortunately, the galleries were closed (as they are on Mondays) but that did not stop us from enjoying a latte from the amazing coffee machine in the Member's Lounge. 

[An aside: this coffee machine can do everything from make a steamer, to cappuccino, to latte, to plain old filter coffee.  AND it cleans itself periodically!  Like I said, it's amazing.  I am so glad we don't have one within easy access, as I'd have coffees all the time, just to use it.]

After the Wellcome, we walked through Bloomsbury to get to a restaurant called Ping Pong.  It's a dim sum restaurant that we discovered back in December, and happily found it to be a chain with a Goodge Street location.  We were delighted to find the good quality food to extend to this chain as well.  Oh happy day and bellies!  We meandered to the British Library, next, to see a couple of exhibitions in their galleries: the first about the Avant Garde movement in Europe, and the second on the collections of Grace Higgens, housekeeper at Charleston House - the country farmhouse to which the Bloomsbury set (of the early 20th century) escaped the din of London.  Finally, we popped round to a friend's for tea and a good chat before we were on the train to return to Cambridge.  We lucked out, in that the good weather continued through today.  It was sunny, in the low 50's, and tomorrow looks like a misty rain will prevail the skies.

Just a really low-key day, just the thing I needed, and more than what I wished for.

In the spirit of Amelie and of the Avant Garde... I like: home-made bread with margerine, lemony cupcakes, tea with friends, nice food.  I don't like: pushy crowds, teabags left on chairs (at the train station).

Somewhere between New Year and now, I got caught in this strange timewarp where I did a lot of reading, failed to notice time passing, and now it's the end of January.  I must be enjoying it, because I barely remember the last few weeks!

There is a general feeling of malaise that has struck me lately.  I attribute it to the lack of sunshine and look forward to the longer days that have already begun to arrive.  Clive, one of the porters at Trinity whom we've gotten to know a little, assures me that it will get better as we approach the next month and I believe him, as I've started to feel a bit less lethargic as of late.  I'm glad to see the daylight lasts until about 5 in the afternoon, these days, and I don't have as much an inclination to hibernate as I did a few weeks ago.

The boatie boys and girls have returned to the river, and the boathouse buzzes once again with the sound of ergometers and weights being dropped (needlessly).  There is a big push for training at the moment, as the Lent Bumps are a big event next month.  I've heard that the Bumps were developed as a means to rid boathouses of old boats.  What happens is that boats are seeded according to their performance in the last year's Bumps, much like a head race - the only difference being that physical contact between boats is not only allowed but encouraged, so long as you are the bumper and not the one being bumped.  There are some wonderful videos of boats moving up on each other, trying to get the tap.  There are also some unfortunate videos of boats being steered directly into the banks of the Cam, in an effort to not get bumped, or, because the cox'n stopped paying attention.  It a test of a crew's strength and power, as well as a test of strategy and steering from the coxswain.  It's also hilarious to watch, and I look forward to Bumps week at the end of February.   

I've been doing a bit of coaching this week, and will probably stick to that this term, as I think it appeals to me more than coxing at the moment.  There are over 20 clubs that use the Cam, most of which are college crews.  It is said that most people try out rowing when at Cambridge, as it is the Thing to do, and that means that there are far more novices 'giving it a go' than experienced rowers.  All I can say about rowing in the morning during termtime (before lectures) is that it is pure carnage and worse traffic than the I-91/I-95 interchange during rush hour.  There are many rules set by the Cambridge University Combined Boat Club (CUCBC), which governs the college boat clubs' use of the River and monitors safety; however, there are so many rules that most people are not well-versed in them, nor are there a sufficient number of experienced coxes and coaches to make sure that their rowers know what to do in a pinch.  Not to mention the fact that novice rowers are usually concentrating more on rowing in time and don't have the same reaction time as experienced rowers do.  I've seen more broken boats on this river than anywhere else I've been... no wonder the first lesson for Cam novices is to learn to stop the boat quickly. 

We may always know what is right: but not always what is possible.  -John Ruskin, The Seven Lamps of Architecture

I have been looking for a copy of John Ruskin's Seven Lamps of Architecture for almost a decade.  The book does exist in modern-day print, but there is something about a well-worn volume that I cannot resist.  For years, I searched the dusty shelves of used book stores, charity shops, and rare books collections.  Today, my search ended in the Red Cross charity shop.  I planned to do a bit of research at the Cambridgeshire Records Office and arrived at 12:30 only to find out that it closes for lunch hour at 12:45.  Whoops.  Instead of cycling all the way home and back, I decided to browse the used book selections of the charity shops nearby.  The Red Cross shop was the last one in a row of shops and it was a complete accident that I came upon the Seven Lamps as it was filed under something bizarre - I don't remember what exactly, but it was between shelves dedicated to humor and travel. 

Today was the first legitimately cold day in a few weeks.  It was also a sunny day, for which I was thankful as the misty rain was starting to get to me.  I took advantage of the fine weather to climb the Castle Mound, the only hill in Cambridge.  It's not much of a climb - perhaps forty feet up, but the view is magnificent.  Stories have it that the Romans chose that spot because it was from there that they could spot the approach of their enemies.  They certainly knew what they were doing, as one can see for miles around.  To the west, there is the University Library.  To the south and the east, the 'dreaming spires' of various Cambridge colleges rise.  I spend so much time holed up with books that I sometimes forget the beautiful scenery that exists outside.

Sorry for the entended silence on my part.  I have been busy with the writing and the short days didn't help my energy levels much. 

With the New Year in full swing, the temporary skating rink has been dissembled and all that is left is yellowed grass.  The shoppers still abound in the city centre, as the January sales are on, with "SALE!" screaming from shop windows.  It might be worse than the Christmas shopping.  I have stayed away from it all, as I do not want to be trampled in a sudden rush at the clearance area.  I have to correct myself.  I have been to one January sale - the Cambridge University Press holds a sale where books are marked down to 3GBP (does my keyboard really not have a pound symbol?).  Very good deals on books, though trying to get at the sale area is difficult because of all the other students and academics trying to get at the books too. 

The students have returned to Cambridge sporting all sorts of Christmas stash, some with tans and others with windburn from the skiing and whatnot they did during the break.  I was surprised to see so many cars loaded down with things, as I did not realise that students are required to vacate and clean out their rooms after each term, in order to avoid being charged room rent during the breaks.  It's probably a good idea, as it also decreases the risk of something perishable being left behind to rot over the course of six weeks. 

Today, I nearly got trampled by a large group of secondary school students visiting Cambridge.  I think I prefer the quieter version of Cambridge I'd grown accustomed to. 

It is almost 2008, and I have been thinking for the last week or so:  what have I accomplished this year?  I'm not sure what constitutes an accomplishment, but I know I'm still trying to do more with my life.  At some point along the way, I decided to devote my life to learning - I just realized this last week.  I am glad that my life has declined to follow a predictable path, because things wouldn't be as much fun. 

Philosophical waxing aside, I was in the local food shop today where many people were doing some last-minute shopping in preparation for New Year's Eve celebrations.  Most of the purchases looked quite normal - wine, cheese, crackers, little nibbly bits - but there was one man's purchase that caught my attention.  A man was buying a case of Red Bull, two sandwiches, 6 packets of marshmallows, a Mars bar and 2 gallon jugs of cooking oil... will he need the Red Bull to stay awake, the sandwiches to stave off hunger, and the oil for deep-fried marshmallows and Mars bar?? 

Happy New Year!

Well, we went to King's at 7 this morning, got through the gates with ease, and joined the queue that had already snaked around the building and grew steadily over the course of a few hours.  By 8, we had made fast friends with our fellow queue'rs, and every so often, we'd be asked by the porters to shuffle up a bit, to make room for more people.  They had ~650 available seats to those willing to queue up, and I must say, the British queue in style.  There were many a folding camp stool, a few lawn chairs, and even some tables that people brought along to make the wait a bit more bearable.  We were finally admitted at 1:30, and were seated in the antechapel, where we could admire the wooden screen from Henry VIII.  It was pretty amazing to be in the chapel, after having stood outside for so long.  To listen to the combined choirs of the King's choral scholars and the choristers from the King's College School was a surreal experience - well worth the short pilgrimmage we made today. 

Happy Christmas, everyone!

Today is the winter solstice.  I've been watching the sun set at around 3 each afternoon, with all traces of daylight gone by 4:15, and welcome the prospect of each day growing longer. 

Christmas looms nigh - in preparation for it, we have already attended two carol services.  The first was in November at Holy Trinity Church, and the second was the other day at Trinity's chapel.  I thoroughly enjoyed both for different reasons: the Holy Trinity service featured a friend of mine, who spoke of his encounters with various pit bulls in his new neighbourhood.  It is highly entertaining to imagine him, at a towering 6'3", watching in horror and muttering 'nice doggie, I love doggies... nice doggie,' as a very enthusiastic pit bull/bull mastif charges up to him.  Then, there was the Trinity College service, which included the incredibly talented children's choir from Little St. Mary's Church.  There was also a dramatisation of the journey to Bethlehem, in which a member of the clergy popped up behind the altar and yelled 'BOO!' scaring most of the congregation.  My favourite part was probably when the sheperds in search of Jesus's stable were walking through the chapel, discussing where they might find the stable.  Three little boys - brothers - wearing crowns (I'm pretty sure they weren't a part of the nativity play) piped up and pointed out the location of the stable for them.  The shepherds took this information in stride and continued on their journey to find the baby Jesus.  One of the little boys began to misbehave shortly thereafter and had to be taken out of the chapel by his father.  

The next carol service we are hoping to attend will be the Service of Lessons and Carols at King's College Chapel, on Monday.  We are prepared to queue at 6AM for entry to the chapel at 1:30PM.  I plan to wear lots of layers, and to bring a book, an umbrella and a bag of snacks.

All of Cambridge seems to be prepared for Christmas now.  The market has been filled at all hours, and the frenzy has reached a buzz I can only compare to pre-snowstorm grocery shopping in New England (where everyone goes out at the last minute to stock up on whatever they need, despite the advice for the opposite).  We went to the market yesterday, thinking it wouldn't be too crowded.  We were very, very wrong about that.  Even during its busiest times it hasn't been that busy at the market.  Mince pies and mulled wine abound and there is very little nougat and gingerbread about.  People say that nougat and gingerbread can be found on the Continent, but I've found a little nougat around town.  Gingerbread seems to take on mythical proportions and so I have been familiarizing myself with British Christmas traditions.  The mince pies have grown on me - my present favorite are the warmed deep-fill ones they served after the Trinity carol service. 

I have just received some GREAT news.  For a little while, there was talk of developing some land on the Choate campus to put in a golf course.  This would have meant the destruction of a lot of wetlands, but also of faculty homes.*  The project has been given the boot and Paddock Farm lives on!  yippee!

*I understand that sometimes homes have to go away because of development projects and other things that have greater 'value' such as the new terminal that is under consideration (or approved now?) at Heathrow, but it doesn't mean I have to like it. 

I haven't ventured into town as of late because 1) I was in the library, searching for books and reading, 2) I was in the kitchen, reading through my reading notes, 3) I was in the sitting room, reading some more, 4) I was writing up my literature review, and 5) those shoppers are crazy and they mean business. 

Michaelmas term is technically over, so many of the students have gone away for the 6-week break before the Lent term.  Many of them are off skiing or doing something glamourous, and those who stay are usually graduate students who are either tied to their labs, or working on essays that were assigned the last day of term and are due when the Lent term begins.  I had a review of literature to write, with a limit of 2000 words.  It was a struggle to begin, as I had a notebook-full of notes, and no organisation whatsoever.  Then, once I'd started, I had a lot of stuff on the screen with very little organisation.  I stared at the computer a lot, and baked a lot of bread (my method of procrastination).  Finally, I hit a groove (also known as the panic that sets in when I realise my assignment is due soon and that I need to get it finished and turned in before my supervisor emails me to ask me whether things are coming along) and finished the assignment with 0 words to spare, yesterday.  I am enjoying the research, however much I complain, and like the assignments I've had to write so far.  My card file is growing steadily, and I'm finding all sorts of tangents to distract me, but for the most part I've remained on track.  More or less.

Back to the Christmas shopping - There are crazed shoppers everywhere, and I'm beginning to believe that when one is intent on their Christmas shopping, they don't pay attention to anything else.  I've nearly run over many a shopper crossing the road, because they tend to step into the street and not look for cars, busses, or bicycles. 

It's starting to get a bit colder here, we've had a few frosty mornings.  I like the frost, especially because that means it's not raining, but when my bike seat is covered in it, it's not so pleasant!  I've been coxing a women's coxed 4, and we're racing the Christmas Head (a Cam race) this weekend.  It's the only race where we get to row by Trinity's boathouse, so we're hoping there will be some spectators there to cheer us on.  We've been meeting in the mornings and so I've had to layer up so that I don't get too cold on the ride out to the boathouse. 

Geoff and I are thinking about queuing up for the King's College Carol service on Christmas Eve.  The queues start at 5AM.  I'm still on the fence.

I have been spending a lot of time in the University Library's Rare Books Room lately, reading through different medical handbooks that were published in the 18th and 19th centuries.  The books are classified under different codes, such as "Cambridge," "Ely," "Hunter," and "1892."  Many of the books I have been reading have been classified under Hunter and I have been wondering what the names were for.  The other day, I found a letter tucked into the pages of a book on Simon Mason, an 18th century apothecary.  The letter was addressed to a Doctor Hunter, from a colleague who wrote him information about Mason.  There were also personal notes and annotations on small pieces of paper included with the volume.  It was extremely interesting to find something unexpected like that - a link to the person who carefully put together this collection of books over a lifetime.   

I am reading not only about the various treatments for malaria, but about the people who prescribed the treatments.  These ranged from members of the clergy, apothecaries, surgeons, gentlewomen healers, wise women, and quacks.  It is interesting to see the many varied remedies that were passed on, as well as how long they prevailed despite the fact that they may not have been effective.  It is equally interesting to see how much was known about diseases, in light of the fact that there were few diagnostic tests and the sophisticated equipment we depend on was either in the earliest stages of development or didn't exist at the time.  Treatment depended on symptoms, the appearance of the patient, gender, and, after a slow-moving reform in medical policy, physical examination.  Compared with modern medicine, the diagnostic process seems vague but somehow worked.

Oof.  Things have been very busy this past week, but well worth the effort put into everything.

We celebrated U.S. Thanksgiving (Canadian Thanksgiving was in October) with a group of North Americans this evening.  There were 19 adults and a baby seated around a dinner table that probably should seat 8-10, but despite the fact we were squashed together, it was a nice, cosy environment for all of us.  We shared a wonderful dinner, made possible by the combined efforts of all.  Being away from family during the holidays is not ideal, but happens on occasion.  I think the thing I miss about Thanksgiving at home most, is the fact that we have gone through a little extra effort to prepare food, to be in each others' company.  Though it wasn't home, it was really nice to be able to share a meal with a welcoming group of people tonight. 

Chad and Emily hosted the fantastic feast, and from what I gather they know most of the people through their church.  There were a few theologians and historians in the group, and a man called Bill gave a nice account of how U.S. Thanksgiving came to be.  Chad is also a historian and gave us more insight as to what it meant.  We finished the meal with a reading from the Bible, psalm 104. 

After dinner, we stretched out some in the living room to chat a bit before having some dessert.  Chad told us a story of how he lost his wallet today.  He had been on the train and realised suddenly that his wallet was missing.  There was a lot of cash in it, as he'd just withdrawn money from the cashpoint, and he looked everywhere for it.  After spending some time on the platform, he decided to return to where he had alighted and saw a man holding what looked like his wallet, looking at him.  The man approached Chad and asked whether he was missing his wallet.  This man had clearly spent a great deal of time looking for Chad, to give him his wallet.  Chad was so overcome with relief that he hugged this man, a perfect stranger.  The man wouldn't take anything for the wallet's return, despite Chad's offer.  Even though the UK doesn't observe Thanksgiving (for obvious reasons), I think this anecdote was in keeping with the spirit of the day. 

One thing that struck me was when Chad said grace before the meal.  He said that we should not worry about what we don't have.  We are supposed to be thankful for what we do have.  I think that is a sound philosophy/bit of common sense.  It's also not a new thought, but something worth revisiting every once in a while.  I don't think it means that one should be completely passive in how life unfolds, however, but there are needs and wants, and sometimes we must remind ourselves to separate the two.  There are people worse off than most of us on a bad day, and we really can't complain about our lives.  When I say 'we,' I am talking about those of us who know there is a next meal, who have a place to live, who have some sense of security knowing that it is highly unlikely that our country will be taken over by a dictator or something like that.  I might not know what life will throw at me tomorrow, but I can take comfort in the fact that I have enough right now. 

I am thankful for the fact that I've met people like Emily and Chad, who welcomed us, and made us all feel a little bit like we were home with family, instead of far away from home missing our families.

I raced the Cambridge Winter Head with Trinity First and Third, this past weekend.  It was the first race I did in Britain, ten years ago.  Does that make me old?  I decided it does not.  It just makes me wiser. 

I still remember how Alan Wells (my coach at UEA) sat me down the evening before the race and talked me through the race course.  I think my rowers and he were concerned that I'd hit the bank coming off one of the sharp corners.  Had I seen a map of the river instead of the squiggly lines he drew on a napkin, I would have been concerned too.  Well, I didn't hit the corner that day (Andy, my bowman bought me a pint in celebration of this feat), and I didn't hit it this time. 

This time, it was my 'home' course, and we won our division by 17 seconds, at that.  It's a small race, so nothing to get too excited about, but I now have a nice little penant to hang on our (still, embarrassingly) bare walls. 

PS: I'm cheating a little and changed the post date on this, because I wanted Thanksgiving to have its own post date.