The Great Grant Getaway...

Unfortunately, Zoe and I were not able to meet up yesterday, but I am already looking forward to the next time that we do... And today (drum roll, please) we leave on the beginning of our much anticipated holiday travels! (Obnoxious girly squeak!) We've got 4 places to peruse before Christmas!

Bruges, Belgium. Excited to see a ton of "fairy lights" decorating each city. (FYI: Fairy lights = Christmas lights in British jargon... how whimsical!)

Brussels, Belgium. Beer, chocolate, waffles, and lace. Although not necessarily in that order.

Disneyland Paris. La Chateau de la Belle au Bois Dormant(?) I believe this is Sleeping Beauty's Castle. Apologies if incorrect. I'll find out soon enough!

Paris, France

London, England

I know that was 5 pictures, but I counted Disney and the Eiffel Tower as one for Paris. I'm sure that is sacrilegious to French people. Apologies once again. Then, we will return to jolly ol' home base (Cambridge) for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

These are King's College choir members preparing for the annual Christmas Eve carols service. We will not be lining up alongside the hundreds of crazy people who queue in the bitter cold for hours awaiting admittance to the festive singing service. Sorry, boys. I'm sure the show will still go on!

Matthew and I will say goodbye to my family on the day after the day after Christmas, do some quick laundry (if such a thing exists) and meet his parents in London on the 28th to start round two of destination domination.

Hope we can catch a glimpse of the Downing Street tree outside the Prime Minister's headquarters.

Then, after a short return for a stay-over in Cambridge on New Year's Eve, it will be off to Barcelona to visit the crazy Catalans and their gorgeous city. Maybe it will be warmer there?

We will be parting with Matthew's family on the 3rd of January and returning to the 'real world,' if we can even dare to call it that. We are praying for smooth and safe travels, cooperative weather, and many once-in-a-lifetime moments (that I will earnestly attempt to capture on digital film.) Please excuse a few weeks of silence from us Okie-EmiGrants. I promise there will be more than enough to catch up on when we return in 2012. Until next time, wishing you and yours a HAPPY Christmas! (I love the frequency with which the greeting "Happy Christmas" is used as opposed to "Merry Christmas" over here. I like to pretend I'm Emma Watson or Kate Middleton or some other classy, English lass when I say it.) Hope you have lots of snow to wonder at, snuggling to partake in, and songs of gratitude to sing!

PS - Here is our virtual Christmas card for 2011. In lieu of spending ridiculous coin to send it out via Her Majesty's Royal Mail Service, we opted for a greener and more cost-effective solution. (And as I said in the last post, we are cheap. Can't help it.)

Front

Back

Thank you so much to everyone that sent a holiday card all the way across the pond and through our mail slot. Each and every one is proudly displayed on our bookshelf, reminding us of how much we love and miss you. Thank you times infinity!!! (That is an accurate estimate of the number of thank you's we are emitting in your direction, by the way. We counted.)

Ok, enough jibber jabber. Whirlwind commence!

Economical...

Yes, I admit it, Matthew and I are cheap when it comes to some things. Let's just say that we try our best to prioritize. Which is why I found myself cleaning the toilet this morning with what has been dubbed the "Hillbilly Scrub Brush." We are so cheap that we do not want to spend money to buy a toilet cleaning brush... or maybe, we are just so creative that it is beneath us to use ordinary means to accomplish the job. Uh huh, right. Anyway, here is a picture of the contraption we came up with.

The unsuspecting stick I plucked from our front yard even had a nice little built-in notch for a handle. Magnificent.

And a closeup view so that our device can be fully appreciated. I hope you find this as humorous as I did.

Simple enough. Stick topped by an antibacterial wipe which has been tied onto it using embroidery thread. Of course, you might rightly be asking yourself, "They bought antibacterial wipes and embroidery thread but they won't buy a toilet brush?" Correct. Like I said before - it's about priorities. The cost-benefit analysis we mentally conducted in regards to paying for a traditional toilet cleaning brush deduced that it was not worth the time and/or money spent to acquire it. A couple quid ("bucks") saved here and there could add up to a nice weekend trip to Ireland or something. And hey, it worked. Good thing I'm married to an engineer. Well, just thought I'd document the extent of our thrifty hick-ness. I'm off to start packing for our upcoming escapades. Two days until Belgium, and five days until I see my family! Hallelujah!!!

Oh, and speaking of my family, I have to mention my little sister. She is so talented! She drew this sketch free-hand for her drafting class at OSU.

I was impressed. Way to go, Jordan!

She's probably embarrassed now, but that's what big sisters are for, right? Have a terrific Tuesday!

Quick Pics...

Just had to share real fast. Although these are perhaps the grainiest photos ever, I never want to forget the faces of these people. They have come to mean so much to me in our short time here.

Precious Paola. Chuckling, she said, "Every time we get together, she <referring to me> wants to take my picture!" Matt responded, "How do you think I feel?" Well, sorry for the inconvenience, folks. I want to capture some memories. Also, the man in the background on the right is Basil - the one who survived a Japanese internment camp in China.

John and Jenny Cooper! (And their entryway.) Can't you tell how fascinating they are just by the framed sketch behind me? Married 58 years, but you can tell it seems to them like it's only been 58 minutes. They love to tell their love story. Jenny had us cracking up tonight when she told us about a conversation she had with her mother back in 1948. Jen: "Mother, remember John Cooper?" Mother: "Yes." Jen: "Well, he and I were thinking of getting engaged when he returns from working in Africa." (In fact, they had already decided that they were fiancés via letter.) Mother: "Well, you better be careful. He could come back a gin-swigging colonialist!" Hilarious. New favorite phrase.

After tea, we attended Eden Baptist. They have a much smaller crowd there at the night service than they do in the mornings. While the preacher was praying towards the end, we heard rather loud rain on the roof. Sure enough, we rode our bikes home in the pouring rain. Not just a shower or a drizzle or a sprinkle. Straight cats and dogs. By the time we got home, I would have rightly answered to, "Hey, drowned rat!" or "You there, the nightmare before Christmas!" or "What happened to you, you gin-swigging colonialist?" My hair was completely soaked and disheveled from where my head lamp had scrunched it up. My mascara was dripping in all directions. To compound things, I was virtually undergoing an asthma attack, which had been brought on by the cold/damp conditions and my attempts to pedal as fast as humanly possible. I didn't even think to get a picture of how utterly bedraggled Matthew and I looked because I was too concerned about getting our wet clothes hung up somewhere so that they could dry without flooding the flat. Note to self: Pack umbrella and/or rain coat and/or inhaler whenever possible while traveling in England. Goodnight!

Ladies Who Lunch...

The first time (and actually only time) I went to the Thursday morning women's Bible study at Holy Trinity, I met a lovely lady named Zoe. She teaches writing classes, went to Cambridge for undergraduate, and is one of the most friendly and approachable Brits I have met. Recently, after much confusion and deliberation, Zoe was diagnosed with Behcet's syndrome, which is a rare and debilitating disease. I don't completely understand the ins and outs of it, but it doesn't seem like doctors do either. Despite very unpleasant treatment and a roller coaster of good days and bad days, Zoe has gone out of her way to make me comfortable here and has generously whisked me around in her car on various outings around Cambridge. Since neither of us work full time, we have acclimated quite nicely to being ladies who lunch. A few weeks ago, our first mini-adventure took us out to Wimpole, an old English manor house and farm that has become a National Trust site. Anyone is welcome (admission free) to wander through the massive pastures, visit the tower and lake nestled in between the hills, or even bring the family dog to run through the fields with the sheep. When I got out of the car (on the LEFT passenger side, which repeatedly threw me off) I felt I had stepped onto Mr. Darcy's Pemberley estate. Complete with a small market square, a church, a graveyard, a restaurant, and a gigantic mansion, Wimpole seemed worlds away from the cramped streets of Cambridge even though it was only about twenty minutes outside of town. Zoe used to take study breaks during exam weeks to visit Wimpole and enjoy the fresh air. How cool is that? My study breaks involved taking a quick car ride to Sonic for a happy hour slushy, not a whimsical stroll through fog and livestock losing myself in a scene from a Jane Austen novel.

This was the cemetery in the churchyard. Those two matching headstones that look brand new are from 1938. They look so modern because the rest of the headstones are just that old.

View of the church on the right, and the mostly obstructed building on the left is the mansion.

I loved the sign on this door. I thought it was unique and quaint.

Lone bench butting up against the exterior of the mansion.

View of the front door of the house. I should have backed up farther to get the whole facade, but I would say this picture covers about a fifth of the front. There is an enormous circular drive, and I could easily envision horse-drawn carriages pulling up to drop off invitees at the social event of the season.

You can tour the house and its massive formal gardens, but it was closed the day we went. So, this was the only statue I got a glimpse of. The back of the house and the gardens reminded me of Philbrook Museum in Tulsa.

This picture really can't do this place justice. This was the crest of a hill that overlooks the lake and the tower. Zoe told me that every year the estate hosts a fundraiser in which you can run a marathon through the acreage. The fog had settled into the folds between the hills, and I kept thinking, "This is quintessential English countryside - fog, hills, greenery, sheep, lakes, and a manor house."

After we were finished roaming, we ended up inside this nice little guest house. We chatted over drinks and cake. It was delightful.

I'm so glad I was able to visit Wimpole. I felt like I experienced a radically different pace of English life, separate from most other tourists. This Wednesday, Zoe and I will be lunching again. We may go to Anglesey Abbey, but there were a couple of other options, so I'm not sure. Since Matthew and I are leaving Thursday on a pre-Christmas trip to Belgium (before meeting my parents in Paris one week from today!), I'm not sure if I will have time to write about Wednesday's excursion. Additionally, I will most likely not have access to the blogosphere from Thursday night until Christmas Eve. So, I'm just giving fair warning that there will be bazillions of pictures and anecdotes flooding in after New Year's.

Matthew and I are going to the last international tea of the term at the Cooper's house this afternoon. Afterwards we will be going to the evening service at Eden Baptist. And then... I'm trying to convince Matthew to go into the city center with me to take pictures of my beloved Christmas-y Cambridge. However, it is currently raining, and freezing drizzle is not especially friendly to photography equipment. We'll see. Cheerio!

La Sol...

Firstly, yesterday was a miserable day as far as the weather was concerned. Ridiculous winds, the strongest in over a decade, roared across most of Britain. Many schools in Scotland shut down as it was unsafe for the buses to operate in the 120-160mph gales. Around nightfall here in Cambridge, a freezing rain decided to join the bone-chilling gusts and pepper our windows with what sounded like sleet. Needless to say, I did not leave the house all day. No reason to get out in that stuff. I had pretty much resigned myself to the thought, "Welcome to winter in England!" and was already beginning to despair about how horrible it will be to go sight-seeing with our families over Christmas in such despicable conditions. Then, upon waking this morning, hope literally came out of the blue...the blue sky, that is. It was a gorgeous day! (Need I invoke the lyrical powers of U2 again?) Of course, I don't expect the beauty of today to be the norm over the coming months, but it was a much appreciated respite from yesterday's weather.

I decided it worthwhile to travel to the Graduate Student Center (where we ate Thanksgiving lunch) to sit in the café on the top floor while I caught up on my Beth Moore Bible study. Over a cup of cappuccino and a scrumptious blueberry muffin, I spent most of my afternoon reading the Word, learning about Paul, and being warmed by the rays shining through the panoramic windows.
It was divine.

The Grad Center is not the most attractive building, but the views from inside make up for that.

As I was reading I heard Michael Buble singing "I Wanna Go Home," and my first reaction was, "No I don't!" It was a triumphant little moment. I knew family would be wrapping their arms around me in a little over a week, so for now, I could just enjoy being surrounded by beautiful scenery and filled with wisdom and blueberry goodness. The swans in the canals below the windows were also entertaining me. I watched them swim unabashedly up to these people who promptly obliged with some snacks. When the swans had their fill, they swam away and found a spot near the sidewalk for a nap.

Sorry for the reflection. I took these photos with my iPad, so they weren't the best quality. But can you tell how huge these swans were? Even from four stories up, they looked impressive.

About the time I was contemplating removing my sweater because the sunshine was actually too warm, the cheery woman behind the counter announced to anyone listening, "Well, that's lookin' a bit dodgy, ain't it?" and motioned toward the sky. (Loved that phrasing, by the way.) But, bummer, she was right. The clouds were moving back in. And they were looking pretty ominous. Not like thunder clouds (to be honest, I'm not sure thunderstorms even happen here) but more like definite cold and rainy clouds. However, when I saw a few rays forcing their way through, shooting out in every direction, I was suddenly overcome.

The rays were much more definitive before they had to travel through my iPad camera lens. Please note the little white blob on the left side of the sidewalk - that's one of the snoozing swans.

My God, how great You are! I know I always relate back to song lyrics, but I can't help it. I thought of multiple Phil Wickham songs, but these few lines kept coming back to me:

"I see Your face in every sunrise,

The colors of the morning are inside Your eyes,

The world awakens in the light of the day,

I look up to the sky and say, 'You're beautiful.'"

Maybe it's because that song holds such a dear place in my heart as the one I will forever associate with my wedding day, or maybe it's because it refers to the anticipation of that day when our Bridegroom will come for us... either way, I always think of those words when I see a beautiful sunrise or sunset. The impending rain and blotting out of the sun signaled a good time to depart and run some errands before total darkness fell. I headed down King's Parade toward the market and made a few impromptu stops into some gift shops. This one particular shop called Ark always has really enticing window displays. Their most recent one reminds me of one that I composed this summer at Glamour Gowns & More in Broken Arrow.

Ark... branches and tissue paper pom poms... they are so behind the times. I totally used those same props back in June. Wish i had a picture on my computer to prove it! 

As I emerged from the shops and rounded the corner to get back on my bike, this striking explosion in the sky came into view.

It seriously looked like something had just blown up, but it was the sun setting behind King's Chapel. Once again, "bursting forth in glorious day," God showed His handiwork.

All the way home I was followed by the gorgeous hues. I pulled over one more time to try and capture the moment.

Psalm 19:1-6

"The heavens declare the glory of God;
   the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day they pour forth speech;
   night after night they reveal knowledge.

They have no speech, they use no words;
   no sound is heard from them.

Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
   their words to the ends of the world. 

In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun. 

It is like a bridegroom coming out of his chamber,
   like a champion rejoicing to run his course.

It rises at one end of the heavens
   and makes its circuit to the other;
   nothing is deprived of its warmth."

He will forever reign in brilliant light. All glory and honor and power is His. Amen.

A Date that will Live in Infamy...

Yesterday was the 70th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor. I meant to upload this post on December 7th, but I did not realize until today that yesterday was in fact the 7th. I guess I can't keep track. Despite being a day late and a dollar short (so to speak), I hope to pause to remember that infamous day. Also, FDR's speech was delivered on the 8th; so, we can pretend I was intentionally timing my post with the speech instead of the actual anniversary.

"With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God." 

-Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Pearl Harbor Speech on December 8th, 1941

When those words were uttered, I don't think the world could have predicted the duration and the impact of WWII. Entire generations of men were killed or missing. The death tolls are staggering when compared to the much smaller statistics from modern wars in the Middle East. Let me be clear - every life lost in war is a tragedy, whether it is one out of a hundred or one out of a million. It is just difficult to comprehend the scale of casualties during 1941-1945. Until we visited the Pearl Harbor Memorial on our Hawaiian honeymoon, I never really thought of the incident as anything other than a history question. "What was the turning point on December 7th, 1941, that caused the US to be directly involved in the Second World War? Answer: The attack on Pearl Harbor." Well, the reality of WWII has come to life for me over the past couple of weeks as I have been reading a book called "Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption."

Reading about Louis Zamperini has consumed every free moment of my life since I opened up to page one. By far, this is my new second favorite book. (The coveted #1 spot will forever be reserved for the Bible.) It is the best book I have ever read. Period. Louis has definitely become one of my heroes, and I wish I could finagle a way to meet him. He is still kicking at 94 years old! Maybe once we both get to heaven I can track him down and spend a few hours just listening to him. His astounding biography is truly crazier than fiction. There is something for everyone: spys, sharks, romance, the Olympics, epic battles, courage, heart-wrenching moments, and ultimately, the victory of one man who lived to tell about it all. It is insane. I couldn't put it down, and now that I've finished it, I'm genuinely sad it's over. I highly recommend that you start reading it immediately, but be warned: you will lose sleep when you get caught up in the amazing adventure.

I know we celebrated Veterans Day not that long ago, but I would just like to again say thank you to all those who have served to protect my freedoms. I had no idea of the extremities to which some men have been forced to push themselves in order to guard the country that I love. I walk free because they were imprisoned, wounded, and killed. Wow. Talk about humbling. Puts a new perspective on things. Thank you, veterans! The author of "Unbroken," Laura Hillenbrand, finishes the acknowledgment portion of the book with a very concise summary of what I am trying to say....

"Finally, I wish to remember the millions of Allied servicemen and prisoners of war who lived the story of the Second World War. Many of these men never came home; many others returned bearing emotional and physical scars that would stay with them for the rest of their lives. I come away from this book with the deepest appreciation for what these men endured, and what they sacrificed, for the good of humanity. It is to them that this book is dedicated."

Go read this book! You won't regret it.

Two (maybe three) Tips...

Lord knows I am not claiming to write a fashion blog here. We have already witnessed my pathetic attempt at modeling my tights-shorts outfit, so you will notice that this post does not include my face in the photos. You're welcome. Anyway, even though I am clearly not a stylist, I do like to think I can look decently put together if I choose to. And today, I would like to share two tiny tricks I have employed over the past week. I would never have thought of these on my own, and once again, I have to credit the powers of Pinterest for my discoveries. Here they are:

I had this baggy sweater ("jumper") that I really liked wearing until I rubbed two lines in the shape of an X across the front when I wore my cross-body purse. Wah, wah. (That was the sound of the Charlie Brown teacher saying, "Uh, oh." I don't know if that is the proper spelling. Phonetically, that's a toughie.) So, how do you salvage a pilled sweater?

With a disposable razor, of course! Who'da thunk? It really works. You just shave the pills right off.

Tah-dah! Restored to acceptable level of pills. That's tip #1. So, tip #2...

...Wear a button down shirt like you would a cardigan! Throw a belt on top to give your hips some shape, and that's it. Comfy and cute. I might be the only one that thinks this is clever, but I don't care. I like it. If I owned a denim shirt with pearl snaps, I think it would look better. But, I was working with what I have, and I always like stumbling upon new methods to incorporate old things into an updated wardrobe. Thanks again to the wonderful world of Pinterest, I have saved some money by using what I already own in an unexpected way. Hope you're inspired!

In other unrelated-to-clothes news, a quick and funny story... Matthew and I were riding home from the grocery store on our overloaded bikes. (You probably expect us to way 500lbs. by the number of trips we make to buy food. But, we do not, despite the fact that we do go quite often.) He was dangling bags of food from his handlebars after already stuffing a couple in his backpack. I had a full basket of milk, juice and, heavy jars with one bag of cereal and other lighter products looped around my right wrist. Add to this scenario gusting, Oklahoma-type winds, and you can imagine that it was quite a balancing act. We had placed our lone loaf of bread on top of the items in my basket and kind of smooshed it down in there so it would stay put. Well, apparently we did not smoosh it enough. As we were going down a hill on a particular patch of narrow road where one direction has to yield in order for the oncoming traffic to go ahead, we were flying down the hill to get out of the way of an approaching dump truck. He had kindly stopped to wait for us to proceed (probably out of pity for how ridiculous and loaded down we looked.) It was smooth sailing until I hit an unavoidable pothole, and the loaf of bread jumped out of my basket and flew into the street! I let out a sad yelp sound, knowing our bread would be mercilessly crushed by multiple vehicles. Matthew was riding behind me and swerved in an attempt to kick the grounded loaf out of the trucks path. He thought if he punted it far enough, he could pull off to the side and save it. Instead, the poor bread just rolled repeatedly across the asphalt and came to a stop square in the middle of the narrow passageway. Since it was the dump truck's turn, he went ahead and straddled the loaf with his wheels and left it untouched. Matthew and I had stopped our bikes on the sidewalk, and the nice car that was behind Matthew stalled long enough for hubby to dismount and run out to rescue our purchase. Twenty slices of floured, white, farmhouse bread had stopped Cambridge traffic. Miraculously, the plastic covering the loaf was unscathed, and our bread made the rest of the journey home in my hand. Moral of the story and tip #3: When cycling, secure your belongings and watch out for potholes. Items may shift during the ride.

Cottages and Royalty...

I absolutely live in a fairytale. Some days I am so struck by this, I just have to shake my head repeatedly in disbelief, as if nodding like a fool will convince me that this is reality. Even with the ups and down of daily chores and to-do lists, as soon as I walk out our front door and head into town, the scenery stupefies me in a good way. The streets are lined with enchanted cottages; the colleges might as well be castle grounds; and, the cobblestone sidewalks have been tread by intellectual and actual royalty. How did I get here again? Sometimes I feel like I am walking through a Disney movie somewhere between Sleeping Beauty, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and Peter Pan.

For some inexplicable reason, this picture from the market seems to fit my mood. Maybe it's the contrast of light and darkness. I don't know. Don't think I can get too poetic or existential here. It's just somehow a snap shot of my present state of mind.

I find myself trying to predict what my reaction will be to the completely opposite ambiance of Houston, Texas, in a little over seven months. Will I dislike its modernity and height? Will I be thankful for its warm weather or offended by it? When I catch myself thinking so far ahead, I have to be reminded to savor the present. As far as I can guess, I will probably never again live in a city that people from all over the world come to visit. I definitely will never again get to call Wills and Kate my city's Duke and Duchess. I will probably never again be in a position where my sole responsibilities are to get involved in whatever I want, explore and take pictures of whatever I want, and be home at the end of the day to greet Matthew. I am trying my darnedest to soak up this fairytale, but it's hard when I still can't believe that it's real. Do you ever get the feeling that the things you know you will most appreciate in the future are the things that you can least appreciate in the present? That's where I'm at. I'm already sensing some inner nostalgia towards Cambridge, and I haven't even left it yet. At my core, I think I'm just afraid of under-appreciating it or taking it for granted. I desperately don't want to move back to the States regretting where I didn't get to go or what I didn't get to see. So, I suppose I should stop pondering and get out there. Just thought I would record these diverging emotions while I could coherently articulate them. Until next time!

Proof...

I did indeed make it through three quarters of the Bedlam football game last night! Here is my proof: (Please excuse my bedraggled appearance...)

As you can see, the lack of sleep was making us a little delirious. We are not conditioned for 1:00am kickoffs.

But in the end, we were happy because our Cowboys are now the Big 12 champs, and we finally beat OU!!! Wish we could've been there to rush the field. That never happened in our four years of attending games, but what a great memory for all the fans in the stadium!

If you have a minute, you should watch the YouTube video of the celebration in the locker room. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y2-rVX4N5nQ&feature=share
I love that Gundy has no rhythm but is not afraid to dance like no one's watching! I'm sure making bazillions of dollars for being the coach of a conference champion removes some inhibitions. Fun to watch.

We wasted much of today catching up on our sleep. I think we finally got up at 1:30pm, but that made for a 'normal' night's sleep. Don't judge. Haha. Matthew has gone to his department and is working on one of his many group projects, but I'm hoping he will be home around dinner time. After a mostly unproductive day, I'm going to attempt to get something worthwhile accomplished. Beth Moore Bible study about Paul while sipping some tea? I think yes. PS - 21 days until Christmas!!!

Seasons...

The Christmas season is casting its magical glow on Cambridge. I cannot get enough of the lights and the music and the presents. I admit, somewhat ashamedly, that I am easily reeled in by the commercialized nature of it all. Not that I buy into the idea that shopping and entertaining and decorating are the ultimate goals of the holidays, but I don't think being merry, giving gifts, and making things pretty are bad things either. Anyway, one reason I love the season is that it is a valid excuse to eat delicious meals. "I only have (fill in the blank) once a year, so I better eat enough to last me!" = Instant justification for stuffing my face. Yesterday I got to eat a lovely Christmas lunch with my friend Asha at Wolfson Court, the graduate housing complex for Girton College. I'm so glad she invited me! It was the first time I had ventured all 100 yards down the street to eat at the cafeteria, and after my enjoyable experience, it will not be the last. I know it seems a bit early to have Christmas celebrations, but the undergraduates are already done with their Michaelmas term. Some graduates are too. Chad left today to head back to Oklahoma and a month-long break. Lucky! But Matt's program gets done in July instead of August, so I guess it's a trade-off.

Asha and me!

Yummy for my tummy!

Cracker!

The food was similar to the Thanksgiving lunch we had last week. Not surprisingly, I think the dessert was my favorite part. It was like a giant Little Debbie's Swiss Cake Roll with some fruit mixed in the cream. Delicious! And we also got crackers. Not the saltine variety. I'm talking about Christmas crackers! I've seen them being sold all over the place, and I don't know what the story is behind them, but I do know that they are exciting. With Asha's instruction, I discovered that I was supposed to hold one end while she held the other. On the count of three, you both pull, and CRACK! The thing pops open, and a Christmas surprise pops out. In our case, our little souvenir was a nail file. One girl got a bottle opener. Another had a paper airplane. Fun (and loud) times. Piñata meets firecracker, minus the actual explosive, fiery part.

This morning, Matthew went with me to do a wee bit of Christmas shopping. There are now cheerful little presents under our charming little paper tree for everyone who is coming to visit us in a couple weeks. (15 days, to be exact! Squeal!!!) I think the only people we have yet to get gifts for are each other. Unless, of course, Matthew is super sneaky and already got me something... Maybe he is figuring out a way to teleport Bullitt across the pond. I sure would love to have our little buddy with us on Christmas. Alas, I think I will have to wait until next year. Not that Matthew will have teleportation figured out by then; just that we will be on the same continent as our furry friend. Maybe Bullitt will get a goldendoodle puppy friend next year for Christmas... Hint, hint. But I digress.

While we were browsing around the market, we got to be entertained once again by an awesome live band. This time, they were ultra-hippie-ish instead of ultra-British/Bob Dylan-ish. The girl singing and chanting and beating on the percussion box had on pink bell-bottom corduroy pants. The stand-up bass player was grooving like nobody's business, and the guitar player looked oh-too-cool-for-school with his crocheted beanie and sunglasses on. At first the music was a little too Enya for my taste - high-pitched, unintelligible syllables strung over soothing instrumental music. But then, much to the crowd's liking as well as my own, they switched with one swift cry of, "Para España!" and flawlessly transitioned to a legitimate flamenco piece. The guitarist was a classical Spanish guitar aficionado, and the music was really quite impressive for a street corner performance. There were these three guys who looked like they were from Spain standing in the audience. They started clapping in perfect chaotic flamenco style, and I half expected them to bust a move out in the center of the circle that had gathered 'round. You could tell they were suppressing an instinctual need for stomping and spinning around a ruffled señorita bonita. We had to pull ourselves away to run a couple more errands (grocery store and bike repair) before going home.

Hippie band. Beautiful, man. Straight groovy. A group of real cool cats.

The other season consuming our Saturday is football season. We will be eating our crockpot lamb stew and homemade cornbread while waiting for the OSU Cowboys to kickoff against the OU Sooners at 1:00am. That's right, folks. One o'clock in the morning is when the game starts. No telling when we will get to sleep, but no matter. That's what dedicated members of the Poke community do, right? I'm just praying for a win. Otherwise, I will not be a happy camper come 5:00am. But, I am thankful that we will be watching the game from the comfort of our warm living room. I do not envy the thousands of people who will freeze their tushes off tonight, sitting on the bleachers and orange seats of Boone Pickens Stadium.

Well, I'm off to craft, read, and possibly nap for the next 7 hours before the game starts. O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A...Oklahoma STATE!!!

Ode to our Tannenbaum...

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

Your leaves are made of paper.

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

You're quite the fire danger.

By crafting you, I saved some bucks.

But halfway through, I thought, "This sucks!"

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

I guess you'll do, my dear.

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

We'll say goodbye at New Year's.

You'll do your job. We'll open gifts.

Then to the trash, you'll be dismissed...

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

It's not about the décor.

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh Christmas Tree!

We know to life there's much more.

Family, friends, and tons of love,

and baby Jesus from above.

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

We look forward to the good times.

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

I think I'm out of clever rhymes.

Hope you enjoyed this made-up song,

and that you sing it all day long! 

Oh, Christmas tree! Oh, Christmas tree!

How comically we honor thee!

Improvements...

Today's list of minor changes that are making major improvements in my quality of life:

1. A plumber has fixed the leak in the apartment above ours, therefore cutting down on the bathroom mold's ability to thrive. A dehumidifier has been brought in and has been running almost 24/7, which has significantly decreased the dampness throughout our whole flat. And, I worked up the courage to tackle the surface mildew with diluted bleach spray while wearing yellow rubber gloves, Matthew's long john "man tights," one of his white undershirts, and my slippers. It was a sight, to say the least. A painter should be coming to aesthetically fix everything in the bathroom while we are traveling over Christmas. = IMPROVEMENT FOR OUR LUNGS, MY MOTHER'S BLOOD PRESSURE LEVEL, AND THE AMOUNT OF DISDAIN I HARBOR TOWARD OUR BATHROOM.

Not perfect, but better!

2. Our friend, Reuben, bought an awesome map for me at a poster sale in London. (I think he bought it out of exasperation because he heard me whining too much about not finding the antique map man at the Cambridge market. Or out of pity. Either way, it is much appreciated.) I have finally hung it in our living room, and it makes our space feel so much more homey. Amazing how personalizing one wall can make an entire room more cozy. = IMPROVEMENT IN THE PORTION OF MY SOUL DEDICATED TO NESTING AND IN THE LIVES OF THOSE AROUND ME WHO NO LONGER HAVE TO HEAR ABOUT MY OBSESSION REGARDING MAPS.

Thanks again, Reuben!

3. Today I officially conformed to the fashion ways of the British young women by wearing the following: tights under shorts, oxford shoes, and an over-sized sweater. My clean, somewhat styled head of hair and understated makeup show that I have not fully committed to the Euro-look, but there is still time. = IMPROVEMENT IN MY ABILITY TO BLEND IN AS A LOCAL.

Sadly, I don't think I'll have a career in modeling. Haha. Ignore from the neck up.

4. My wonderfully tech-savvy husband has worked miracles with my 5 year-old laptop and added at least another couple years to its lifespan. He has done some surgery on it using a fancy screwdriver set and has upgraded my RAM from 1GB to 4GB. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what all he has done or is going to do to my beloved MacBook, but I do know this = IMPROVEMENT IN MY COMPUTER'S PERFORMANCE, AND THUS, IMPROVEMENT IN MY BLOOD PRESSURE LEVEL AND A REDUCTION IN THE NUMBER OF TIMES I AM TEMPTED TO CURSE ON A DAILY BASIS.

5. I stitched up a couple of holes in the armpits of my favorite cardigans, including the gray one from my European style conversion. For the life of me I cannot figure out why holes keep popping up in the armpits of my garments, but fixing them = IMPROVEMENT IN MY SELF CONFIDENCE AS A SEAMSTRESS AND IMPROVEMENT IN OUR POCKETBOOK BECAUSE I COULDN'T USE HOLEY ARMPITS AS AN EXCUSE TO BUY MORE CARDIGANS.

6. My tissue paper Christmas tree, crafted using an idea from Pinterest, is complete!!! (Cue the carols.) There is now a nice little area of our living room dedicated solely to Christmas cheer and gifts. I will post pictures of the tree tomorrow. One of Matthew's cardinal rules is "No Christmas related revelry before December 1st." Although I strongly disagree with his stance on this issue, I will respect his wishes in the blogosphere. But you better believe I have already started listening to some Bing Crosby "White Christmas" while Matthew has been in class. Also, the city center of Cambridge has transformed into a winter wonderland. I could sit on a corner for hours, feeling nothing but merry and bright. The streets are draped with festive lights, and the shop windows have been dressed in their finest holiday regalia. When the sun sets and the chill arrives in the air, the jovial atmosphere seems complete, and in a way, the centuries-old buildings lining the cobblestone streets appear to be in their element. = IMPROVEMENT IN THE VALIDITY OF THE STATEMENT "IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK AT LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS."

7. Paola and I met up at the Michaelhouse Cafe this afternoon for some tea and a lovely chat. Today was another unseasonably sunny day. I learned that the "Hope Chest" I received from my Mimi when I got married would have been called a "Bottom Drawer" here. Apparently, back in the day, girls used to tuck items away in the bottom drawer of their dressers to save them until the day they got married. Same concept as a the chest, just a different name. We also discussed holidays that they don't celebrate in England. For instance, I talked about Thanksgiving. Then Paola told me about Epiphany, an Italian holiday celebrated on January 6th. On this day Befana, an old witchy lady, delivers gifts to children much like Santa Claus does. Fascinating! So anyway, the weather + time spent with my favorite Italian lady + a nice warm drink = IMPROVEMENT IN OVERALL OUTLOOK ON LIFE.

Inside the Michaelhouse Cafe. It's a church. It's a restaurant. I like it.

Paola!!! Hooray! We finally got a picture together. Pardon my mostly closed eyes. Guess I squint a little when I smile.

Oh, and I almost forgot:
8. Only 18 more days until we are meeting up with my family in Paris!!! Where has the time gone? = IMPROVEMENT IN MY COMPREHENSION OF HOW MUCH I LOVE MY MOM, DAD, AND SISTER (and Jeff, Jordan's boyfriend/my unofficial brother)! Should I start counting down the hours? Maybe not yet.

Bono...

I'm pretty sure U2 owes me some royalties for promoting their lyric, "It's a beautiful day!" because I have repeated the phrase so often this weekend. Yesterday and today have truly been gorgeous days weather wise. It is not that cold (rare for late November in England), and it is SUNNY (rarer still for late November in England)!!! I've been moving my chair around the living room for the past two hours in order to be constantly immersed in as many rays as possible. My skin cells are practically rejoicing in their bath of Vitamin D.

Friday afternoon, Matthew and I agreed that it was just too beautiful a day to be wasted sitting inside working on boring stuff like papers and projects. So, we made the two-mile journey out to Girton College in about 20 minutes on bikeback (that's like "horseback" but with bikes...) It was the first visit I have made to his college since we moved here. Kind of sad, I know, but it is really so far out of the way that there is no sense in going there unless you have to. Matt has only been there like 3 times for formal dinners. He is more of a trooper than I am because during those few visits he has ridden in the rain twice, broken his bike's rear derailleur once, and run most of the way home on another occasion (walking takes too long) because the people he shared a taxi with on the way out there were sticking around late to hang out at the college bar. Had I encountered so many trials and tribulations I would probably have taken it as a sign from God that I wasn't supposed to step foot on the campus again. Nevertheless, we made it there and back in one piece and managed to get some pretty good pictures. Girton is relatively modern as far as Cambridge colleges are concerned. It was founded in 1869 and named the "College for Women," having only a loose connection to the University of Cambridge. In 1873, the female students moved to the current site in the town of Girton purposefully outside of the Cambridge city center in order "to discourage marauding male undergraduates," according to the Girton website. Finally in 1979, over one hundred years later, the college started admitting male students. Now, the ratio between males and females is unmatched in any other University of Cambridge college. So, Matt belongs to a girls' school. I think it's good for him. They have a Headmistress instead of a Headmaster, which can cause some confusion when Matthew refers to his mistress, but still... I think it challenges him to accept a woman's authority over his own. Haha. Anyway, here are some snapshots of Girton College.

Castle-like turrets with a background of bright blue sky.

I loved this little shoe scraper that was shaped like a dog. If your boots are a little muddy, wipe them on the doggie's back before you walk inside.

The dining hall was pretty from the inside and the outside, and there were many cloisters with tranquil views right outside almost every window.

Arched hallways and lots of windows were commonplace on the interior.

Antique furnishings for the ghosts of Girton-ers past.

Girton has one of the biggest dining halls we have seen.

Matt says that the dining hall is even more impressive at night with the cool light fixtures setting the mood.

More castle-like turrets. I think this one contains a spiral staircase. I also liked the massive trees on the property.

You can tell it was a girls' college because most of the stained glass has a floral motif.

The front entrance reminded me of the Smithsonian Castle in Washington, D.C.

Closeup of one of the upper floors. Undergrads live upstairs.

Lots of greenery, and we actually saw people walking on the grass! Gasp.

I thought this was like the coolest doorbell.

It's really quite different from the other colleges in town. Being located on a big plot of land instead of surrounded by other non-academic buildings makes it feel like it is out in the country. Kind of peaceful. It almost reminded me of Old Central, the oldest building at Oklahoma State. The colors of brick are similar, and many of the interior walls are whitewashed with dark wood trim. I was a little creeped out by the number of portraits of various Victorian women that lined many of the hallways. That was a little too reminiscent of a haunted mansion in my opinion. Old furniture, spooky paintings with eyes that follow you, etc. Luckily I have been inside Disney's Haunted Mansion attraction enough times to work up the courage to face such daunting surroundings.

The rest of Matthew's weekend has been spent in front of his computer screen. He will end up producing around 5,000 words of writing and 3 different presentations in the next 3 weeks before the end of the term. No biggie. He turned in two reports during his senior year at OSU which were over 200 pages each.

These are the times I am content with not being in school anymore. Last night, I went to go see My Week with Marilyn at the Vue Cinema with my new friend Asha. She is also a member of Girton College, and Matt met her at their matriculation dinner. I had a splendid time, and the movie wasn't half bad. Michelle Williams does a pretty spot-on Marilyn Monroe.

It felt so good to go see a chick flick with a girlfriend. As time goes on, I realize how much it means to me to have strong girl friend relationships. Asha and I bonded over the fact that we are both married. She and her husband have been together for 10 years and married for 7. So, being happily settled down at 23 is not a foreign concept to her like it is to many other people we have met here. Hopefully we'll get to hang out more after Christmas break.

Finally, this beautiful Sunday morning was spent at Eden Baptist. Long story short, Holy Trinity has introduced us to some marvelous, welcoming people that we will keep up with during our time here (John, Jenny, Paola, etc.) However, we started thinking, why not try a Baptist church instead of an Evangelical Anglican one? Eden was much smaller than Holy Trinity, but the format was more familiar to our non-denominational upbringing. The teaching over the Sermon on the Mount was enlightening, and I came away with a new appreciation for the often over-used or overlooked "Golden Rule." The organ played during the hymns took me back to my Northside Christian Church childhood and memories of sitting near Mimi Kay while she belted out "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." I cherish my upbringing, and I will always love the words of old hymns.

A quick stop at Sainsbury's for some essential grocery items, and we are back home. I will be spending the remainder of the afternoon sipping tea and chasing the sunshine around our flat until it dips below the horizon around 4:15pm. Darkness sneaks up on me earlier and earlier every day. Darn daylight savings time. Oh well. To quote Bono once more, "It's a beautiful day. Don't let it get away. It's a beautiful day." Enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving weekend!