Cheeky Monkeys

I think I’ve mentioned previously that I moved into a new house back in July. What I haven’t mentioned previously is that the house has a tendency to be invaded by creatures from time to time, especially the kitchen. Now, I’m accustomed to meeting the occasional spider in the basements of houses I’ve lived in, but this is just out of control. There are literally spiders everywhere. I’ve killed several on the walls of my bedroom, leaving their remains as a warning to others, but the kitchen is a different story. My housemate placed horse chestnuts throughout the house to ward off the dirty beasts. I hate to say that despite her belief in their magic spider repellant properties, the konkers haven’t eliminated the scourge. This has made for a number of run-ins. Unfortunately, there are several different styles of spider disposal in the house, which has caused some mild contention. Catherine refuses to deal with them at all. As stated earlier, I prefer to smash them with a shoe and leave the carcass where it sticks. Charlie prefers to put a cup over it, slide a paper underneath it, and carry the spider outside. (I’ve wondered sometimes how many times Charlie has escorted the same spider outside.) Contributing to the problem is the fact that it now gets dark at about 4:30 in the afternoon, so there is plenty of nightly darkness in which the spiders can emerge. The bad news is that the bathroom is through the kitchen, so an appointment with death (for the spider) is not always avoidable.

Which bring me to the even worse news. As much as I dislike spiders, I prefer them to the other frequent invader we get in the kitchen: slugs. I blame my mother for my hatred of all things slug and snail. Her loathing of the slimy monsters boarders on the pathological. Being raised in this environment, naturally I have a warped opinion of the disgusting invertebrates. As horrible as the slugs and snails have been to my mother’s plants, at least they stayed outside. I cannot say the same about the English slugs. I have had several evening encounters with them in the kitchen. I can’t for the life of me figure out how they’re getting in the house. It just shouldn’t happen; I don’t care how moist the environment. The first time it happened I thought it was a fluke. The next time, I was perplexed. The last time, I was completely disgusted. The problem that time was that I stepped on it, in the dark, in the middle of the night, in bare feet. I was on my way to the bathroom and I had decided not to turn the light on or wear my slippers. Rookie mistake. (I thought I’d learned my lesson in Hong Kong when I didn’t wear my shoes to the bathroom one night and stepped on a cockroach, but I guess I allowed complacency to dull my instincts.) I knew the moment I felt the squishy sliminess just what had happened, even in my dazed awake-in-the-middle-of-the-night semi-consciousness. Wiping the slime from my foot, I tried to work out whether or not I’d stepped on it completely enough to kill it. I finished my bathroom business and re-entered the kitchen to assess the carnage. In the harsh light of the fluorescent bulb, it was revealed that I had indeed crushed the life from the nasty creature. As I scraped the flattened body from the kitchen floor, I decided that I would never again use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

London Fog

While I realize this is hardly sufficient to make up for the last few months without any posts, I promise to get caught up soon.

I just had to quickly write something while it was still fresh on my mind. It's starting to get cold here and while that in and of itself is not good news, it does have its benefits. The one I want to address is the fog. Tonight is a perfectly foggy English night. I have to say, I love it. It fits so perfectly into the preconceived notion I had of what England would be like. There's something deliciously mysterious about fog, as if it is an ally concealing one's escapades from prying eyes. As I walked through the fog tonight in the orange glow cast by the street lamps, I pictured myself in a different time and a different place, dressed in a party gown and wrapped in a warm fur coat with the memory of the night's adventures bringing a smile to my face, wandering the early morning London streets after a night of pure indulgence. Oh, what might have been...

The Photo Version

These are in backwards order for some reason and I can't be bothered to switch them all around.

My friends and I at Kim's wedding.

These are some of the girls at camp serving up lunch.

This is me after returning from our hike. We got caught in a terrible downpour.

I don't remember ever having been so wet while wearing clothes.

This is what the camp site looked like. They are old Army tents.

At the 4th of July picnic with other Americans in Oxford.

Beach day! Sure it looks nice, but don't be fooled.

The Latest News

I’m FREE!!!!! That’s right everyone. I have finished my dissertation. It wasn’t even due until the 20^th of September, but I turned it in yesterday. For those of you who don’t know me very well, this is shocking. I’m very much the procrastinator, but I decided that this time would be different. I don’t know why I haven’t been doing that all along. It was a great relief to be finished writing weeks in advance and be able to just tweak it during the last week. I feel good about the work I’ve done and can’t really believe that it’s all over. I still have to wait and see how everyone else thinks that I’ve done, but no matter what, I’m pretty sure I’ll pass my course. I will actually have a Master’s degree. Crazy. As a reward, my housemate Charlie and I are going to Ireland next week for a few days. I’ll be sure to post some pictures when I get back.

In other recent news, life here is going well. I was called into the Relief Society Presidency a couple of months ago. I’m the second counselor and I’m getting the hang of it. I’ve been in RSPs before, but we have our work cut out for us here. There are a lot of people who need a lot of help. I forget just how blessed I am and seeing what other people have to deal with helps me remember that my life is really pretty easy. As difficult as it is, I do love being a bigger part of the ward and feel like less of a student with every passing week. I feel more and more confident in my decision to come to England. As much as my mom hates to hear it, I feel very much at home here. I’ve learned a lot about myself here and have been able to have some wonderful experiences.

I’ve decided to stay here for a little while longer at least. Now that I’m finished with my dissertation, I’m going to look for work. My goal is to find work as a substitute teacher. That way, I can work when I want to, but still have the flexibility to travel and make the most of the opportunities that I’m given. I’m a bit nervous about teaching again, and England is much different than Utah. I may be in over my head. The nice thing about substitute teaching is that I only have to go to the schools that I want to go to. If there are naughty kids, I don’t need to go there again. I’ve gotten so used to the student lifestyle, it will be hard to get back in the swing of the working world again. It will, however, be nice to not have any homework or things I ‘should’ be doing. I’m hoping to start working in October, so I’ll be sure to keep you all posted.

I’ve also had a lot of fun this summer. Because of my great work ethic, I was able to take time to do some fun stuff, too. We went to the beach one weekend in Bournemouth. I’m told that to be a true Brit, I have to have a picnic at the beach in the rain. Well, I guess that will have to wait. While it was a lovely, sandy beach, it was pretty frigid water and not very warm outside. I could only really convince myself to go in to my waist, and only did that once. It was a beautiful day, though, and I always love the beach.

Two of my friends also got married this summer so I got to experience a proper English wedding. One of them was my old housemate, Kim, and the other was my friend Catherine, who is in the stake. Just more evidence that I’m incorporating myself into English society pretty well. Anyway, they do things a bit differently here. English law is that weddings have to be open to anyone, so LDS people have to get married civilly first and then go to the temple to be sealed. It does make it pretty fun. They get to walk down the aisle and everything. It’s a big deal. They’ve got the bridesmaids, the ring bearer, and the whole bit. The women wear hats, and there are toasts and speeches and lots of delicious food. I have to admit, I kind of like it. I was sad when I learned years ago, that Mormon girls don’t get to walk down the aisle like Fraulein Maria. Of course, if I get married here…

My favorite experience this summer, though, was going on young women’s camp. I had volunteered to go, but then was in America when they made all the assignments. Luckily, someone dropped out and I decided to fill the gap. It was the best decision I’ve made in a long time. I had a fabulous time. The girls were amazing and I made some great friends in the stake. They do things a bit differently here, but I like it. Since there aren’t really mountains in which to camp, they just go to fields. I’d forgotten how much I enjoy camping when it’s not freezing cold. (And when my dad isn’t in the tent snoring. My new system includes earplugs and an eye mask.) Also, since there aren’t mountains, the hikes are really more like a lovely country walk, which is totally fine with me. Anyway, they set up all the tents in the middle of the field and mix the girls up with others from all over the stake. Each tent has a ‘tent mum’ assigned who is in charge of making sure the girls are okay and doing the things they’re supposed to. That was my job. I loved it because if gave me the chance to really interact with the girls. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed being with kids that age. They loved me. I think at first it was the novelty of being an American, but by the end of the week, they realized how much I cared about them, and we created a real bond. We had so much fun together. We did a service project, talked about boys, and studied the gospel. I was so impressed with the girls in my tent and their gospel knowledge. It was a reminder to me that the Church is going to be in good hands. The kids in this generation are fantastic. It was just the kind of spiritual boost I needed to get through the difficult, stressful month while I finished my dissertation. Best decision I made all summer.

England Adventures

Things are going really well here in Merry Olde England. The new house is wonderful and Charlie is proving to be an excellent new roommate. We have ended up staying up late almost every night chatting, but still haven’t run out of things to say. I predict great things.

Anyway, I promised to tell about my adventures of late. First of all, when I returned to England, my good friend Laura was here waiting for me. She had spent a couple of days in London and was ready to explore the fabulous English countryside. We rented a car and the adventure began. We spent one day driving through the splendid Cotswold Hills. We visited Blenheim Palace, the ancestral home of Winston Churchill’s family. It was beautiful and the gardens were stunning. Then we just wandered around in the car, taking little one-lane country roads to perfectly quaint little villages. The Cotswold villages fit pretty much every stereotype for an English village. The roofs are usually thatched, the houses built of stone, the stone churches surrounded by crumbling gravestones. Yep, pretty much perfect. Combine that with rolling hills covered with grazing sheep and a patchwork of colors and you have some of the most picturesque places I’ve ever been.

This is Blenheim Palace. I chose this picture because I look pretty.

Like I said, spectacular scenery.

After our Cotswold adventure, Laura and I were sure nothing could beat it for beauty. We were, however, wrong. There are worse things to be wrong about I think. The next day we left early in the morning to drive to Devon and Cornwall. These two counties are renowned throughout England for their beauty and it is easy to understand why. We wandered around again and stopped at a couple of towns to walk around and stroll along the promenade at the sea (not the ocean). We eventually ended up in Dartmouth where we decided to spend the night. We found a delicious little B&B and then went for a pub meal. After dinner, we decided to take a walk and were rewarded for our efforts with some of the most romantic moments I’ve ever shared with anyone. Too bad it was once again with a girl, and a Giddens girl at that. (Laura’s sister is Amanda, my old roommate with whom I’ve walked many a moonlit beach, strolled through magnificently winding European streets, and shared an uncomfortably small bed on multiple occasions.) Dartmouth sits on a beautiful little harbor and there are sailboats anchored all around. Laura and I happened to be there during the full moon and it looked magical reflecting on the water. The next day we took a little ferry to the village of Dittisham where we wandered around for a couple of hours. Then we went back to Dartmouth and got the car. We decided to drive down the Cornish coast to Fowey where Daphne du Maurier spent much of her life. The drive there couldn’t have been more beautiful. We again found ourselves on single-track roads, which seemed impossibly narrow, yet somehow didn’t get hit by any of the oncoming cars we passed. It was absolutely stunning. The banks along the road were covered with wildflowers and it seemed as if the top of every hill offered vistas even more beautiful than the last. I was in heaven. We eventually reached Fowey and meandered through the little village by the sea. Fromthere,we drove home, just skirting the famous moors spoken of in Jamaica Inn. I loved the entire journey. I have decided that further exploration of Devon and Cornwall is absolutely necessary. Any takers?

This path reminded me of the azalea and rhododendron path in Rebecca.

I can’t remember the name of this place, but it was somewhere in Devon.

This was on our way to Dartmouth just outside of wherever the last picture was.

This is lovely Dartmouth harbor.

This is the view from the hillside in Dittisham.

Here is the beautiful harbor of Fowey.

I liked this shot because it looks like a painting.

Lately

Well, my goodness. Life has gotten busy. I am not sure how it’s already July. Anyway, things here are lovely. Just by way of catch-up, I’ll give a brief overview of some of the recent happenings. I went home to Salt Lake at the end of April to do some research for my thesis, but also to visit family and friends and eat lots of delicious food that I can’t get here. Mission accomplished on all fronts. I had a wonderful time hanging out at home with the parents, was able to attend graduations galore, had Mexican food on several occasions (which has helped to tide me over, although sometimes I splurge and buy Doritos and salsa, just because I can’t stand it any longer,) and got to feel Baby Girl Pruett kicking around inside my little sister. So overall, a pretty good visit.

While my visit was a nice chance to see everyone, my real purpose was to complete the research necessary for my thesis. I had an absolutely fantastic time doing my research. My thesis is a comparison between LDS and non-LDS English immigrants to the US during the last part of the 1800s, so naturally I needed access to the Church’s archival materials. That meant that I spent all day everyday at the Church History Library in downtown Salt Lake City. Who knew they were open for 12 hours on Thursdays and on Saturdays? Lucky me! Needless to say, I got to know the missionary couples who serve there quite well, as well as the Church employees. I loved it. The research was interesting and I had some amazing experiences with some of the sources. I was also granted unprecedented access to some of the files. I felt like a proper historian. It was a stressful time, as I felt the drive to look at as much as I possible could, knowing that it was likely my only chance to see it. I read so much microfilm that I began to see it when I closed my eyes at night. It was quite an experience, though, to be reading the personal thoughts and feelings of people who lived over a hundred years ago. I felt as though I had come to know some of them. I also had a few history nerd moments when handling the originals of some of the documents and imagining the people who created them. It might not make sense to everyone, but I enjoyed it immensely.

Now the real fun begins. I am currently in the process of actually writing the thesis, which is proving more difficult and far less enjoyable than the research. I have just over 3,000 words of the 20,000 that I need, so there is clearly much work to be done. I have set the goal to write some every day, but it’s not going too well. I have great plans for this week, though. It’s sort of intimidating to realize that the statements I make and the conclusions I draw could someday be quoted by another person. (It is also a bit fun to think of being an authority on a subject.)

In other news, I have moved house. The contract is for one year, which means that barring deportation, I will be staying in England until next summer. I’m pleased, though not sure exactly how everything will work out financially, but I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. At any rate, my old housemate Kim is getting married in September so we have replaced her. We also added one to our number and needed a bigger house. As soon as things are sorted out and the house looks nice, I will take pictures and post them. We’re not far from where we were before, but this house is quite a bit nicer. The owners replaced the bathroom and redid the walls and carpeting, so it looks pretty posh. It also has an extra room and a living room, which our other house was lacking. There’s also space in the back for a small vegetable patch, which I have great plans for. It’s one downfall is the absence of a clothes dryer, which will be greatly missed this winter when I have to lay my clothes out on the radiators to dry. Bleh. I hate crunchy underclothes. Oh well, I’m told that I’ll survive. We’ll see.

Other than that, life is good. I’m healthy and happy and loving the English summer. The loveliness of the summer almost makes the dreariness of the winter worth it. It stays light until well after 10 pm, which means that people stay out and about. I love it. It also, unfortunately, means that the sun comes up around 4 in the morning, which I don’t love. I’m currently in the process of securing some blackout drapes for my east-facing bedroom. I’ve had a few summer adventures, which I will write about presently, but I feel this post has reached its boredom-inducing threshold. Thank you for persevering through to the end. I hope to be better at posting in the coming weeks. It will give me a good distraction from writing my thesis. J

Wanderings

Hi everyone. Here are some more of my photos from various wanderings around England. Erik and I have been trying to use our weekends to see as much as we can and I think we've done a pretty good job of it. We've been very lucky to have fantastic weather for the most part as well.

I hope you enjoy my photo travel log.

Windsor

This was a rainbow that appeared in Windsor just as we were getting ready to leave.

These are in backward order, but I couldn't be bothered to switch them all around. Anyway, this is the whole Windsor Castle complex. St. George's chapel is closest to me with the castle in the background. The queen was actually there the weekend we visited.

This is the original castle fortification built by William the Conquerer.

The rest of the castle grew up around this part.

This is just part of the fortification with the garden that used to be the moat.

Oxford

This is just inside Magdalene College. It was my favorite.

This is in the gardens of Magdalene College.

It was really beautiful there and the spring flowers were just starting to bloom.

I don't really remember which college this was, but I loved that tree.

Bath

This is the famous Royal Crescent in Bath. It's prime real estate.

I can just picture Jane Austen herself wandering along those sidewalks.

This is in the Pump Room where you can have a swig of the water for free. It's pretty nasty.

This is the main bath in the Roman Baths complex. The water is nice and warm, and green.

Here is a view of Bath Abbey from the Roman baths museum. All the buildings in the city are built with the same color stone, which makes it quite lovely.

Ole!

Hello everyone and apologies for the lack of posting lately. At least this time it’s for a good reason. My program has actually been pretty busy lately so I’ve had to do schoolwork. Crazy. Anyway, I’ve been on a couple of cool trips lately so I thought I’d post a few pictures from them. This first batch are from my trip to Spain with Erik and some of his friends from his course. I loved Spain and it was a welcome relief from the cold and rainy English winter. (And the guys were fairly good looking in general. And there weren't

lots of other blonds so...good times for me.)

This building housed the Picasso museum but is actually an old mansion from the early 1400s. The old town was amazing with old houses like this everywhere. They all have a little courtyard in the middle that stays cool all day. The museum was pretty cool, too.

This is at the famous Sagrada Familia designed by Gaudi. The Spanish lady who took our picture clearly didn't understand that it's not so much about having our entire bodies in the picture as it is about the cathedral that we had traveled so far to see.

The beautiful Spanish beach. The water was gorgeous, but a little too cold to get in. It was nice to be at a beach, nonetheless. We also got to see a naked man.

These are some of the stalls at the market just off La Ramblas. Everything looked pretty arranged like this, even huge hanging hams.

England, je t'aime

I was chatting with a friend a while ago and he asked me what my favorite thing about England is so far. It’s such a good question, but a difficult one. I thought about it for a moment and said something, but have continued to think about it ever since. I couldn’t narrow it down to just one thing that is my favorite, so you’ll have to bear with a rather long list. Firstly, I love that it’s England. There are times when I have to remind myself that I actually live in England. I’m not just visiting; I actually live here and that is so much cooler. I go to the grocery store, I do my laundry, I go shopping. I just do it in England instead. It means that I walk a lot more, but I don’t mind it because it’s beautiful. The walk from my house to the town center passes several old churches and crosses the river. There’s a lovely garden with spring flowers beginning to poke up. I also love the buildings. Here in Reading, most of the buildings are red brick. I think it’s just lovely. Most of the houses are also covered with vines or ivy as well. It gives them an old look that is perfect for imagining oneself in a Jane Austen novel or something.

I also love it here at night. It’s often a little foggy and the streetlights are much orangey-er than they are at home, so there’s this soft orange glow everywhere. It’s romantic and makes me want to go on a long walk hand in hand with a cute boy.

I also love that everywhere I go there is history. There’s a story to everything here. I can imagine people in old-fashioned clothes wandering around town, climbing out of carriages, attending the theatre, or having tea and scones. I love the feeling that the buildings and streets and trees have been witness to events that changed the world.

Another thing I love here is the trees. There are beautiful trees everywhere. They’re big and tall and the branches spread out beautifully all around. Some of them have vines growing up the trunks. One of my favorite things to do is ride through the countryside where the fields roll over the hills and the sheep graze. But what I love the most about the fields is the great big tree that is often smack dab in the middle. I have no idea what kind of tree it is, but almost every field has one and they’re beautiful.

I love the old people here too. I love that the women wear tweed skirts, knee-high stockings, blouses, knitted sweater vests, and carry crocheted shopping bags around with them. I love that the old men wear hats and suits when they go out for the day, even if it’s just to the shops. They perfectly fit my imaginings of what old English people would look like.

I guess what I love most about England, is that I’m here. I feel so lucky every time I think about the experience I’m having here. I had always wanted to live abroad someday and now I am and I love it. I might just have to stay a while longer.

The Quest Continues.

As you may recall when I first got here, I was freezing. It was only September and I worried about how I would survive the winter. As roommates we had decided to only have the heating on for a few hours in the morning and a few in the evening. I hated it. I was freezing all the time and spent my waking hours wrapped up in a blanket. My feet were like blocks of ice and I couldn’t even bear to be without my jacket. The only time I was truly warm was in the shower, where I would stand in the hot water until my feet melted and my blood warmed. This was no way to live. (By way of explanation, we have an old-school boiler and radiators in our rooms. The gas heats up the water, which flows through the radiators and gives us heat. Unfortunately, there’s no thermostat to regulate the temperature; the heat is either all the way on or all the way off. This makes it quite difficult to maintain a very constant temperature in the house. It gets nice and warm and then very shortly after turning off the heating, it gets really cold.) So, we called the gas provider to see if there was anything we could do to keep the heating more even because to my mind having to reheat the house every few hours was wasting a lot of energy, whereas having it on more often for less time would perhaps use less. So the gas company told us that the rate would be lower if we used a bit more gas. So we started leaving the heating on all day with the radiators turned down. IT WAS HEAVEN! Then the heating bill came and it was not good news. We realized that we’d been given bad information by the gas company. So we decided to go back to only having the heating on for 8 hours a day and I went back to wearing a blanket around all the time. We were a bit smarter about it and decided to heat the house up for an hour or so and then have the heating come on every 15 minutes for 15 minutes. We figured this way it would maintain the heat better. It was working perfectly until two days ago when the heating just stopped working. The pilot light was on, but the heat wouldn’t switch on. That also meant we couldn’t get any hot water. We called the gas company but they couldn’t send anyone over until the next day. That meant we had to spend the rest of the day and night without any heat. I was not pleased, but spent the evening at the Church building where the heating was working. I came home and got in bed as quickly as I could. The next morning the gasman came and fixed our heating. We had heat again and we rejoiced and I took a shower, which turns out was a good plan because last night, the pilot light went out. We tried multiple times to restart it and it would stay lit for a few seconds only. We were again facing a night of no heat. We called our landlord who is a tightwad and won’t get a new boiler despite the fact that ours is 15 years old and a piece of crap. He called the gas company and they came out today and tried again. We’ve now become quite good friends with the gas technician as we’ve seen him many times. I feel like we’re all on the same team against the landlord in our efforts to secure a new boiler. Anyway, he did some other things and hopefully that will do the trick. My great hope is that I will now be able to sleep without the fear of hypothermia.

Home Again, Finnegan

Today was my first real day back from Christmas, in that I had my first lecture of the term.  It was good to get out of the house.  I actually arrived back in the UK on Thursday the 7^th of January, the morning after one of the largest snowstorms in UK memory.  So I left cold and snowy Utah for cold and snowy England.  Now, I came to England under the impression that it wouldn’t snow here.  I have been disappointed.  Granted, snow is uncommon here, but no less undesirable in my mind.  The problem is that since snow is uncommon here, no one knows how to function in it.  I found out later that the airport had only recently reopened when I landed.  This meant that there were thousands of people who had been stranded there the previous night who were now understandably anxious to get home.  This led to some less than pleasant exchanges between the RailAir coach driver and several passengers.  Suffice it to say, I finally got on the coach after waiting in the sub-zero temperatures for nearly 45 minutes. 

Reading is about 40 minutes from the airport and the ride was luckily uneventful.  I was a little put out that I had to come home to a snowy mess, but to be fair, it looked beautiful.  However, as we made our way through the snowy countryside to Reading, I began to wonder how I was going to get from the train station to my house if the roads were impassable.   I went to the bus stop and stood in line, still in sub-zero conditions, only to find out that the bus I needed wasn’t running.  The only option would be a taxi, most of which were charging extra for hazardous conditions.  Rude.  So I got in another line to wait for one of very few taxis that were out that day.  After another 20 minutes in the cold, I told the driver where I lived and he told me he would get me as close as he could.  This turned out to be the end of my street, which left me to drag my suitcase through the several inches of snow covering my road.  Lovely.  I finally made it in to the house, which thankfully, was warm. 

The next day I decided that I needed to go to the little corner grocery store since I had left very little food in my cupboards when I left.  The snow hadn’t melted at all and I couldn’t face trudging through the snow on my front walk.  Then I had a stroke of brilliance.  I grabbed one of our cookie sheets and cleared our walk, laughing the whole time at what the neighbors must have thought.  With our path clear, Kim and I journeyed to the store and bought the necessary provisions, minus milk and water, which they had sold out of.  I lived the next few days on beans and toast and whatever else I could find left over in the cupboard.  Luckily things have now thawed and we discovered that the big grocery stores let you order online and have groceries delivered.  Brilliant. 

(Also, they use bulldozers to clear snow.)