fall

The days are getting shorter: when Anna, Iain and I first arrived in late June, the pre-dawn light began before 4:00am. A little over three months have elapsed, and the days have become much shorter very quickly. Soon the early light (about 7:30 am in the photo, I think) will not be early any more.

Anna and Thomas are enjoying school, and Iain likes his 'school' as well. We celebrated Anna's birthday in September, and she had a small party at school as well as cake and presents at home. Iain's birthday is next: he'll be 3 on Monday. (Three years old! I can't believe it!) Thomas finishes up our round of fall birthdays, turning 6 on the 12th.

By next year, we'll be up on the birthday-party customs, which seem to differ slightly here. For now, we're just all glad to be here, and settling into our various occupations. Teaching begins in the Department of Theology and Religion at the end of next week--finally! It seems we've been here an awfully long time now without having any students!

Look for birthday party pictures here in the days to come...

Hadrian's Wall

One of the great things about Durham is how close we are to a range of interesting historical sights. Besides the generous sprinkling of castles in the area, we are within easy striking distance of some Roman ruins along Hadrian's Wall. I remember seeing the Roman ruins for the first time several years ago, and being overwhelmed by the double-digit dates. The oldest house in my hometown was built in 1910!

The small Roman soldier with whom I am sparring is not, in fact, Thomas, but a friend's nephew. We spent one Saturday in September visiting Housesteads and Vindolanda. Housesteads is quite extensive, and ranges over a hilltop. Although the sun shone brightly, the wind blew pretty cold, and I was happy to descend again for a picnic lunch. Not quite having had our fill of Roman sites, we headed on to Vindolanda, which is still being excavated. There Thomas, Fergus, Iain and I staged some mock battles: I was the invading army. Mostly it involved a lot of running around to no particular purpose, which was good for all of us! Afterward, we went to Chesters--one of my favorite spots along the wall--for ice cream. (For information on Housesteads and Vindolanda, including photos of the sites, see http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/hadrian_gallery.shtml.)

Eventually I will do more than run around and climb over ancient stones, and learn something about the history of the wall--when Thomas develops an interest in archaeology.

arachnophobia

Yes, that's a spider. In England (and presumably in Scotland and Wales), house spiders come only in L and XL. By comparison, American house spiders are pretty small. Of course, what spiders in the US often lack in size, they make up for in venom. Georgia boasts both brown recluse and black widow spiders, and England cannot compete with that. However big and scary, British house spiders are not deadly.

Did I mention that I don't like spiders? I really, really don't like spiders. But I am improving. Six weeks ago, having to kill a spider of that size would have induced nausea. Really. But after dispatching several in the last two weeks, I find it a bit easier. And I know they aren't fast-moving until you strike the first blow (so aim well!), thus I knew I had enough time to snap a photo before bringing the flat-bottomed wooden salad bowl (the really big one) down on this unsuspecting arachnid. Splat!

No, it didn't actually make that noise. The children, fortunately, have not inherited my phobia. Iain often says he's scared of spiders, but he isn't. He and Anna spotted the first one, a few weeks ago. Look, Mommy, it's a spider! Let's just say I wasn't thrilled at the discovery. and it's supposed to be a 'good' year for spiders--that is, if you want lots of them. So said our parish priest last evening, helpfully.

In other news, though, the tadpoles are becoming frogs. Really, really cool. Amphibians are much more my style. I wonder if they like house spiders?

railway paths

I wish I could attribute my failure to get lost while out for a run to my own knowledge of the way around. When Anna, Iain and I first arrived, it felt like being on vacation. Now, however, I have no time to get lost! Fortunately, the railway paths are enough. I have learned a couple of routes...not as exciting as the 'wonder where this goes' of late June, but perfectly satisfactory.

I don't always run, though. In fact, I walk most days--though fewer now than in the summer, when the sun came up early and nobody had to be anywhere in particular. Partly I go out, whether walking or running, for the exercise. I needed to do something to replace the gym. What I discovered, and what keeps me getting onto the path, is how much I love being outside.

The mornings are quiet and peaceful. Except for the iPod, of course--but not too loud. I think about my work; sometimes that's the only time I get to 'work' all day. I wish I could say it sets the tone for the day, that I carry the peace and quiet with me. Some days the peace and quiet ends abruptly as soon as I walk in the front door. Other days it lasts longer, but it's hard to hold onto in the midst of chaos. But I keep going.

Lakes II: Brougham Castle

Back to the beginning: it is not so much a desire to begin at the beginning to offer a narrative of our trip to the lakes as to comment on how nice and friendly the AA guy was...

On the way to the Lake district, we stopped at Brougham Castle. (Photo to the left is Thomas' work.) It was lovely, which was really good, because we ended up spending the better part of a day there. Lewis made the fateful error of remarking that he thought we were making excellent time. 'Better than I expected' he said. So we stopped at the castle in high spirits, ready to begin our adventure.

And then Anna needed a change of clothes. (I won't give details, but anyone who has potty-trained will know the frustration of 'I don't have to go' being followed by certain evidence that the child did, in fact, need to go. But never mind) Suitably distracted, I returned to the car, and brought the clothes leaving my other bag (with sunglasses in it) behind. Big mistake--I ended up having to go back yet again for the sunglasses. Drat! Thomas came along, and as we were heading out the gate, I caught my hand, pinching it so that I thought, 'oooo, I'll have a bloodblister there'--except that I hit it slightly too hard for that, and just got the blood. Fortunately, I recalled, the first aid stuff was all in the car. I congratulated myself on being so well-prepared and continued on. We got to the car, retrieved my sunglasses, and I looked up to see...no Thomas. I called to him, and finally spotted him in the distance. Apparently he got bored and headed back to the castle. I fumed silently, at the same time being a tiny bit pleased that he had achieved some measure of independence. He got back to Lewis safely, and I was free to treat my little wound in peace, which I did. Then I closed the back hatch of the car and reached for the key to lock the door. But the door was already locked. And the key was inside.

Ooops. I could SEE the key from where I stood, but that wasn't much help, except that it catapulted me instantly to the zen state: you know, when the last possible thing has gone wrong and you realize there's no point in worrying about it any more. I went back and called AA on my cell phone. (Lewis' was in the car.)

It took about 45 minutes longer than they said it would, but eventually a very nice man with a van full of tools arrived to help. Fortunately, he was able to get the door opened, and I retrieved the key. 'You know', he said to Lewis conspiratorially, 'it's usually women who lock the keys in the car. But it's usually men who put the wrong fuel in the tank.' (That is, they put unleaded into a car that ought to have diesel, usually.)

Knowing both how expensive the latter mistake is, and that Lewis had once put almost a liter of unleaded into a tank that should have had diesel, I felt suddenly better. And, anyway, we really did enjoy the castle.

Lakes II

...just a link to the photos (click here). stay tuned to find out how we spent the first day and why Lewis had to drive back to the B&B immediately after we arrived home...

Lakes I

Since we've been back more than 10 days already, I feel no obligation to offer any sort of historical narrative of our time in the Lake district. In fact, starting at with the last place we visited seems somehow appropriate, especially because we visited it again last Saturday. Partly we did so because it was the perfect length walk for the kids, complete with a waterfall that was well worth the short hike. Partly we chose to spend our Saturday going to and fro because I left a few (!) things behind....like the headphones for my iPhone.

The photo on the left says everything about what Iain enjoyed most about the Lakes: plenty of muddy puddles for splashing, and sticky, gooey mud to stomp in. He also discovered how difficult it can be to lift a half-submerged boot out of thick English mud. Iain's other noteworthy puddle experience was even more dramatic, occuring as it did on a chilly morning on a windswept hill, in the middle of a stone circle. The views were incredible--if the stone circle itself wasn't interesting enough--but all he wanted to do was to run through what can only be described as a pond-full of rainwater. Of course he fell over, and made another important discovery: deep puddles on windy hills are cold. I would like to see Castlerigg one day without all the fuss.

Anna's favorite aspect of the trip was the abundance of dogs. Honestly, I think she thought we went out every day in search of friendly dogs for her to shower with affection. The up side of dogs' magnetic force was that Anna 'introduced' us to loads of people. I personally preferred the people to the dogs (mostly), and enjoyed having conversations with other adults without the worry about where Anna was. As long as there was a dog present, I knew where to find her. She did some great walking, too, for a girl whose idea of a long walk is from the kitchen to the TV.

stay tuned

... for photos and commentary from our short holiday in the Lake District. Internet access at home has been intermittent, so I am behind. Sorry!!

st cuthbert's

I should begin by saying that I like St Cuthbert's. A lot, actually. It is quite different from our old parish in Atlanta (how could it be otherwise?), particularly in the total absence of a nursery. Of course this means that the children, who (with the exception of Thomas) are not used to being in Mass, have had to learn how to behave (lol!) in church.

A priest I hadn't seen before appeared a couple of weeks ago to fill in for our own, who was away. One never knows quite what to expect. But I almost burst out laughing as he intoned, 'Let us pray, with our minds fixed on Eternal Truth.' As I wrestled (as discreetly as possible) with Thomas to keep still, I couldn't help but think that I wasn't really the sort of parishoner the priest had in mind. My own thoughts were not exactly 'fixed' on the prayer, and the main truth I was grasping was far more earthly than eternal: the difficulty of keeping the children quiet during the Liturgy of the Word. The Eucharist is much easier: there is always something for Thomas to watch, and Iain falls asleep sometime between the gloria and the end of the homily. (Usually he drops off during the homily.) If we can keep Anna from climbing onto the pew in front, or exploring the contents of someone else's purse, it doesn't go too badly. I usually nudge Thomas during the Lord's prayer, so he joins in at about 'hallowed be thy name', and I have to remind him when we say the Hail Mary, whispering, 'you know this one.' So, no, I have to admit, I do not do very much contemplation of eternal Truth during the Mass.

Still, it has its moments. Last week, Thomas turned his face up to me as we sang the gloria, and said (in slightly too loud a whisper), 'I know this one almost by heart.' And when Anna stopped to kneel before turning to leave the church, it all seemed worth it.