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!

Mayo...

I'd like to start with a quick picture from Skyping with my family yesterday. We always take a big group photo when we get together, but since Matt, me, and my cousin Brock weren't there, we took a screen shot of our Skype conversation. Then, I amateurishly cropped Brock into the picture. It's not a professional photoshop result by any means, but I think it may be one of my favorite family pictures we have ever taken. Oh the miracles of technology!

Love them all so much!

Remember how I said that I was looking forward to seeing Mimi and Papa's reaction to the wonder that is Skype? Well, I guess my Papa was so in awe that he couldn't even bless the food. Matthew had to say the prayer. There were definitely tears from the women folk. I asked, "Papa, does this technology just blow your mind?" And he answered, "That isn't all it blows!" as he just kept shaking his head in disbelief. Also, my cousin Ashley had us all cracking up. Her mom, my aunt Jennifer, said to her, "Ashley look at that screen. That is Matt and Kelsey talking to us from England!" Ashley's response: "Are you kidding me?!" It was fantastic. Definitely a highlight of my day. I loved being able to spend a portion of the holidays with my family despite the miles between us.

So, back to the original intention for today's post. I was inspired by my friend Kali's blog a few weeks ago when she posted her engagement story on the anniversary of her engagement to her now husband, Pat. (Sorry, that was such a long run-on sentence.)

Kali Bell! Her super cute blog is http://patrickandkali.blogspot.com if you want to check it out!

So, I'm going to go ahead and shamelessly steal her idea in order to celebrate the 2nd anniversary of my engagement to Mister Matthew. I can't believe it has been two years already since he 'put a ring on it'! The journal I brought with me to England has the entries that I wrote on November 25th and November 28th, 2009. Anyway, I thought the best way to retell the story would be to share what I had written on those days. (I have corrected for some spelling errors that I made in my original writing. I was excited and didn't care about being grammatically correct at the time.)

November 25th, 2009
Matthew and I are engaged!

Obviously I got right to the point and wrote this short entry late that night after all the festivities had concluded. A few days later, I decided it was time to write the whole story down in order to preserve it as a sort of heirloom.

November 28th, 2009
Wednesday night, Matthew Tyler proposed. I want to write down every detail so in 20 years I can look back and remember everything about that special night.

The last few weeks of school were pretty hectic, so Matthew asked me to spend the day with him on Wednesday once we settled in for Thanksgiving Break. (Little did I know, he asked my parents' permission back in September and had bought the ring in October!)

Wednesday morning I got a haircut, and afterwards, Matthew and I went hiking. We went to Turkey Mountain for a few hours and got some good views of downtown Tulsa. He told me we were going to go out to dinner, that I should dress fancy, and he'd pick me up at 5:30pm. I made a joke and asked him if he was going to propose then. He looked really sad and told me that he feels like a disappointment every time I say stuff like that. He's trying as hard as he can, and it stresses him out. So of course I felt super guilty and told him I'm not pressuring him. So I decided to lay off and be super appreciative of this date night. 

View of the City of Faith buildings from Turkey Mountain

Part of the hiking trail we walked

He didn't tell me where we were going. He picked me up and brought me red roses. He had never gotten me red ones before. Then (very suspiciously) my mom wanted to take our picture. I just thought she was doing weird things, but the whole night I just kept trying to not get my hopes up. <Aside: Other slightly unusual things had happened throughout the day. My little sister Jordan let me borrow an entire outfit without complaining. Matt's dad had called him earlier in the day, and I wasn't allowed to listen to the call. My mom had been on the phone, walking in and out of the house periodically. But, like I said, I didn't want to make nothing into something and be disappointed.>

I know I don't look suspicious, but I was. And I know Matthew doesn't look annoyed and scared that this picture would give his plan away, but he was.

So, Matthew drove me to downtown while we listened to a CD he made with some of our favorite worship songs. We passed The Mayo Hotel, and I said something about it and how cool it was. <I always thought the hotel looked really intriguing from the outside. It is very art deco, old-school glamour. You can imagine the oil barons smoking in the bar.> We parked and started walking. Lo and behold, we ended up at The Mayo, and he opened the door for me. He asked the front desk where Trula was. He had a 6:00 reservation for this great, swanky restaurant named for a T-town socialite (Trula) who had lived in The Mayo during its glory days. (Ironically, my hairdresser Michelle had told me about an article in the newspaper about Trula that morning. She had no idea about Matt's plans.)

Lobby of the hotel

We had a wonderfully prepared meal. Probably the best food I've eaten since Europe. The waiter Travis was so nice, and he was in on Matt's plan. When he brought our check he said, "I understand you would like to tour the Penthouse and look around." I thought maybe this was a common request since The Mayo's grand re-opening would be happening in a week. So Travis got his manager Shannon (who was clueless as to Matt's plan), and he took us upstairs. We toured the ballrooms and banquet halls. Then he took us up in the service elevator to the top floor penthouse. (The main elevator required special access.) We ended on the roof, and Shannon left us to go check and make sure the elevator would take us back down.

Aerial view of the roof. The sign lights up red at night.

While he was inside, Matthew and I were looking down over Tulsa, at the BOK Center, etc. Then Matt started his speech. From what I remember, he said: "I love going on adventures with you. We have done so much together. We've gone on missions, we've traveled Europe..." Then, Shannon popped his head out the door and said, "The elevator works! You guys are good to go!" Matthew was like, "Thank you!" but he was probably thinking, "Get out of here." So I think Shannon's little interruption threw him off a bit. So, he said, "I guess what I'm trying to say is..." (That's how he asked me out on my 16th birthday) He got down on one knee and pulled the ring out of his pocket. "...Kelsey Kathleen, will you marry me?"

I was crying and when he got on one knee, I kept saying, "You are not doing this!" So, I answered, "Of course!" and tried to hug him. He said, "Can I put this on your finger?" I couldn't even see the ring because it was dark, but I didn't care. I was officially going to marry my Matthew. Of course, I was bawling, and I was shaking from cold and excitement. We walked back inside the penthouse. He told me everything he couldn't before. He talked to my parents in September when I went to Dallas with some sorority sisters. He bought the ring when I went to Colorado over fall break. The ring came in on Monday, and he decided he didn't want to wait until Christmas. His original plan was to do it at Disney World. <We were going on family vacation to Florida at Christmas.>

I didn't want to leave that moment. We went back on the roof one more time to look around and hugged and kissed. Finally, we went back down to the lobby level to thank our waiter and the manager guy. Turns out, Shannon had no idea of the purpose behind the tour. He said, "Hey, that's a nice ring! Were you wearing that earlier?" I answered, "No! That's why we are thanking you!"

We drove back home listening to Phil Wickham's "Beautiful," which I want to walk down the aisle to. <And I did walk down the aisle to that song 9 months later!> My family, Matthew's family, and both sets of my grandparents were waiting at my house. Our friends were there too. Jenna, Allison, Heather, Morgan, Blake, and Emily. It was a perfect day. I can't believe I am so BLESSED!

Walking in the front door to our engagement party. I kind of look like Rudolph when I cry.

That certainly was such a magnificent day, and we have gone on many adventures since then. This is only the beginning! The only thing I regret is not having a picture from the moment that he got down on one knee, but I wouldn't have wanted to spoil the intimacy of that time. Maybe we will have to go back to The Mayo before we move to Houston and go up on the roof to have a little recreation for some pictures.

Trula is in the background of a lot of our engagement pictures. The Mayo itself is in a lot of our engagement and wedding pictures too. We stayed there on our wedding night. The rooms are even swanky-er than the lobby and restaurant. I'd totally live there.

There is now a bar in the penthouse, so access to the roof is not forbidden like it was when we took our engagement pictures. Well, here's to another 2 years times infinity! I'm the luckiest girl in the world. And you can believe me because I have seen quite a bit of the world!

Do you sing songs?

I have just gotten home from a fabulous Thanksgiving lunch at the Cambridge Graduate Center, and I am feeling (you guessed it) thankful for being able to celebrate this all-American holiday in a very non-American way. Matthew and I gathered around a delightfully festive table with our friends (who unexpectedly joined us.) Stephen (from Scotland), Victor (from France), Alberto (from Italy), and Daniel (who we met at the lunch, from Washington, D.C.).

Matthew is doing "No-shave November" but plans on shaving tomorrow... I think it makes him look older, which makes me look even younger. And you can't see it in this picture, but we got awesome Cambridge "badges" or pins. I wore mine on my cardigan, thus feeling I had been initiated into the Cambridge collegiate community.

So fancy! Wine and leaves and a sparkly centerpiece! I enjoyed it.

As always, I felt awkward asking if I could take a picture of everyone sitting at the table, so I played it cool and didn't. I guess I'm going to have to get over that because I'm sure anyone that reads this would love to be visually introduced to our new friends. We are quite a group. Anyway, after a very sweet blessing of the meal from Alberto, we were served a gussied-up version of some Thanksgiving classics. Turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, veggies, pumpkin and apple pie. The works. Although I was starving, I did remember to take a picture of the plate as it was put in front of me. Unfortunately, I did not take another one after I piled on the side dishes. But, you get the idea.

The circle was the dressing and was by far my favorite part. Second favorite part was the pumpkin pie. Ok, maybe they were tied for first.

Bacon-rolled sausage? I suppose that was the English contribution to the menu. That and the tea served with the coffee at the end of the lunch. Americans do love to put bacon on practically everything, though. Maybe it was some sort of goodwill gesture. I don't know. So, as we were enthusiastically stuffing our faces, Stephen was asking us what happens during Thanksgiving meals in the States. In his thoroughly charming Scottish accent he asked if we sing Thanksgiving-themed songs. I thought that was hysterical! But I mean, it's not that weird to ask. We have Christmas carols, why not have Thanksgiving ones? Victor jokingly wanted to know if we were celebrating because the Indians fed corn to the British pilgrims. Alberto noted that we were eating focaccia bread, which obviously originated in the US. I can't remember who then sarcastically mentioned that the Europeans don't need a day to give thanks for everything they have because they are so constantly grateful on a daily basis. They were not mocking our holiday by any means, but it just struck me how unique to America this holiday is. For us, it is completely normal. To anyone who was not raised in the land of the free and the home of the brave, it is a strange concept. I find it fascinating because I realize how many things have seemed so novel to me over the past couple of months that are mundanely commonplace to everyone else. This is one of the reasons I love Cambridge - normal is different for each person, and I am learning to appreciate viewpoints that occupy every position from one end of the spectrum to the other.

The Vice-Chancellor of the University stood and had some very thoughtful remarks for the students, specifically the Americans, who are celebrating this holiday away from home. He hoped that we would find that we had been welcomed into the Cambridge family and were not missing home too much. I thought he was incredibly warm and sentimental. (Don't worry, I didn't cry this time.)

Apparently there are approximately 600 American students currently studying here, and I'd say that at least a third of them were at this lunch. It was actually very odd for my ears to hear American English coming from the majority of mouths. I guess I have grown more accustomed to the British vocabulary and inflection than I thought. Little phrases have been added to my own manner of speaking, but if I tried an imitation accent, I would still not pass as a local.

Well, tonight Matthew and I have a Skype date with my side of the family. As they are sitting down to lunch around 1:00pm Okie Time, we will be sitting down to dinner around 7:00pm Greenwich Mean Time. We are eating leftovers of the steak pie that I made mostly from scratch yesterday. Only took like 5 hours. (Not the prettiest thing, but I think I scored some serious wife points based on the taste.)

Yummy for my tummy. Crummy for my stress level. I genuinely do not like cooking by myself. Especially when I do not have functional knives or bakeware. Ahh the boxes of wedding gift kitchen gadgets that are just waiting for our return to the US.

I am looking forward to seeing everyone's smiling faces. It should be an experience. I am really anxiously awaiting the chance to see my Mimi and Papa because I haven't actually seen them since before we left. We have only emailed back and forth. I am awestruck when I think of how this type of communication would not have even been a far-fetched idea when my grandparents were my age. In fact, not even when my parents were my age! Thank the good Lord for the advancements of technology. They have temporarily cured my homesickness on many occasions.

1 Thessalonians 5:18 "Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

All of my life. In every season. You are still God. I have a reason to sing. I have a reason to worship. Whether in the US or England. Surrounded by family or brand new friends. Highs in the 60s with mostly sunny skies or highs in the 50s with clouds. Earthquakes or rain.  Whatever the circumstances, I will give thanks. Oh how much I undeservedly have to be thankful for. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!

Working on it...

So, The Thanksgiving Method is in the full implementation phase (can you tell I've been listening to Matt work on drug development business plans?), and I thought I could go ahead and share some examples of my attempts to look at the bright side this morning.

Well, I am up early (8:45am is early for me these days) due to the mold problem in our bathroom. Someone from the maintenance department is coming to take a look and offer a solution at 9:30. So, while I would much rather be cuddling with my hubby who can actually sleep in today because his classes don't start until later, I am up and being positive. I'm thankful that our apartment complex has a maintenance staff and that we are not solely responsible for taking care of our rented space. I will be even more grateful when the mold is gone. (Lord willing, it will be out of here before Christmas.)

Disgusting, right?

Speaking of Matthew sleeping in, poor guy is feeling under the weather. Last night was probably the worst night of sleep (or lack thereof) that I can remember since before we got the foam topper on our bed. He thinks he may be getting strep throat, which would be a huge inconvenience no matter how you look at it. But, my TM (Thanksgiving Method) encourages me to think, "I'm so glad that neither me or my husband is chronically ill. Inconvenience we can deal with. Aside from the upper respiratory problems due to the mold, we are blessed with fairly good health." (Kidding about the upper respiratory thing. But you saw, the mold is very real.)

Keeping with the lack of sleep theme, there is construction going on right outside our bedroom window. I kid you not, a jackhammer started drilling in the parking lot around 8:30 this morning, and it is only getting louder. When it comes to loud noises while I'm trying to sleep, I get quite annoyed. I've been known to throw the covers back in hasty surrender and practically yell, "Screw it! I didn't want to sleep anyway!" in the direction of the noise. However, with TM acting as a filter, this morning I did not yell. I thought, "Well, I had to get up early this morning anyway. At least the construction didn't start at 6:00am. And, maybe this work will enhance the quality of life in our complex for those who drive cars."

Visual proof of the audible disturbance. Our bedroom window is directly behind those bushes.

Ok, last point with regards to sleeping... The family who lives above us are really rambunctious Chinese people. The little boy parks his cute superhero bicycle near mine. (That was worded funny. I'm not saying my bike is a cute superhero bike, but just that he parks next to me. Although I wouldn't be opposed to a superhero bike. I don't think they make them in adult sizes.)

Sweet ride, huh? Ah, training wheels. Remember how unsteady it felt to remove them? And just to clarify, mine is the gold bike, not the one with the kiddie seat on the back. Still no dual-citizen babies on the horizon.

There is no particular rhyme or reason as to when this lovely family decides to make noise and when they think it's time for quiet. For instance, I awoke at 7:00am to the sound of tiny feet galloping across the ceiling from one end of our flat to the other. Often, the dad and son play some kind of chasing game. You'll hear the dad do a pretend scary monster yell, and next thing you know, the son is screaming in childish delight. The ensuing stampede on top of our heads can be slightly aggravating at times. In these instances, Matthew has actually influenced me more than the TM has because he will say, "Kelsey, at least the dad plays with his kid. When we have kids, if they want to play early on a Saturday morning, I will play with them. We won't care whether our neighbors are sleeping or trying to get something accomplished. That parent-child relationship is much more important." Of course, I have to roll my eyes and at least give the impression that I don't think he is right, even though deep down inside, I know he is.

This is how Matthew envisions his ideal Saturday morning with his future son. Hockey. Mountains. Teaching his firstborn the ways of manliness. What more could a father want?

And lastly, groceries! Sometime within the next hour, a nice person from Sainsbury's will roll up in a truck and unload crates of delicious edibles at my front door. <As I type, they have arrived! Yay!> Paying for groceries in Pounds Sterling instead of Dollars can hit you with sticker shock. The digits will fool you. "Oh, this pack of gum is only 1GBP! What a bargain. Wait a second. That means it's like $1.65. No deal." But, despite the fact that my affection for Wal-Mart still pops up now and again as I yearn for a one-stop-shopping experience, and that I do miss the benefits of owning a car, I am SUPER GRATEFUL for the person who invented home grocery delivery. Leading up to that person, I am also uber thankful for the people who invented the personal computer, the Internet, credit cards, WIFI routers, delivery trucks, paved roads, kitchens... I could go on, but you get the point. If you ponder a complaint long enough, you can turn it into something you are happy about.

FOOD. FOOD. FOOD. So much more than could fit in my bike basket.

"It is literally true, as the thankless say, that they have nothing to be thankful for. He who sits by the fire, thankless for the fire, is just as if he had no fire. Nothing is possessed save in appreciation, of which thankfulness is the indispensable ingredient. But a thankful heart hath a continual feast."

-W.J. Cameron

On that note, happy (early) Thanksgiving! We are sad we can't spend time with our friends and family who are back home, but you can bet that we will be eating our fair share of a feast and thinking of you all! These crazy Brits don't know what they are missing by not celebrating this holiday. Peace and blessings. Peace and blessings.

The Thanksgiving Method...

Besides being born a rule-follower, I was also born with a "Type A" personality. In fact, it is probably more like "AA" or "AAA." I would venture to guess I could earn as many "A's" as possible. So maybe that makes me like a 4.0 GPA, meaning "General Personality Average" instead of "Grade Point Average." I can't help it. I think I inherited this propensity toward order from my mom. Let me put it this way... when I see something like the following picture, I feel I have reached my happy place.

 Sorted. Color-coded. Clutter-free. Bliss.

Having this particular personality obliges me to ensure that everything is in its proper place, and it means that I need (not want, but need) my plans to be made and set in stone as soon as possible. Which is why I have been a bit of an angry person the past few days and have not posted very often recently. In light of the overall message of my Perspective post, I fooled myself into believing that I have trained my brain to think with an appropriate level of perspective. Wrong. Besides being "Type A," I am apparently also "Type C" = Complainer.

I don't know what's gotten into my head recently, but I do not like the way it makes me sound when I listen to myself. Matthew's class schedule has intensified a bit, so I am home alone most of the day. I don't usually have any particular plans, but suddenly I find that negativity and sarcasm quickly leap to the foreground of my internal dialogue. For instance, when I walk into the kitchen first thing in the morning for breakfast, my initial thought is, "Great. I love waking up to a sink full of dishes that I have to wash by hand." When I go to get dressed and realize the hamper is full, I think, "Awesome. A massive mountain of stinky clothes is just what I wanted to conquer today. I'm especially excited that I get to do so with the world's tiniest washing machine and no dryer. And the best part is, it will only take me three days to finish this batch, so by that time, there should be more dirty laundry waiting for me!" And then, when I need to use the loo, I walk into our bathroom and say to myself, "Gee. This is the gem of our flat. I can only hope that these moldy walls give me an upper respiratory infection. If not, at least I get the pleasure of inhaling the mildew and seeing it sprout up in new patches every day."

See? Aren't you annoyed by me already? I'm annoyed by me, and countless similar smart remarks float around in my head all day. By the time Matthew gets home, he is not in a particularly happy-go-lucky mood from working hard on class projects. Compounded by the fact that there is no daylight after about 4:30pm, an unpleasant thought can quickly transform into a toxic situation. So, this is what I have decided. I will try and kill this negativity using what I am naming "The Thanksgiving Method," in honor of the upcoming holiday. When I pour my bowl of cereal in the morning and see those dishes scoffing in my face, I will choose to think, "I am so thankful for dirty dishes because they show me how much food I have to eat." When I'm tempted to curse the laundry pile for growing at an unnatural rate, I'll say, "I am so thankful for these clothes because they keep me from running around naked all the time, and they are stylish (sometimes.) Not to mention, they keep me warm." Besides the recurring thought of, "I probably need to call the maintenance people about this mold. It really is unhealthy," when I visit the bathroom I'll think, "I am so thankful this is not an outhouse. The good Lord knew that Kelsey Kathleen could not deal with a hole in the ground or critters or walking in the dark/rain/cold to a separate building just to employ the facilities." I know it won't be easy, but I think a healthy dose of The Thanksgiving Method will help me to become a more amiable and cheerful person. We'll see.

Speaking of cheer, the holiday season is officially upon us. I'm sitting in the Cambridge Central Library, which is located more or less in the center of a shopping mall, and I am watching Christmas lights twinkle down in the atrium.

Again, an ugly and ungrateful thought pops in my head. "Darn. I miss my boxes of ornaments, my Christmas tree, my stockings, and the rest of my holiday goodies that are in an attic in Tulsa, Oklahoma." But, <insert Thanksgiving Method here> "You know what? Christmas isn't about those things. It's about Christ and family and love." Like it did for the Grinch, it's becoming painfully clear to me this year that "maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more." And I am going to be overwhelmingly blessed this Christmas season with visits from a lot of people that I love. Here is a brief overview of our travel schedule for December and January.

Dec. 15th - 18th: Hubs and I explore Bruges and Brussels, Belgium
Dec. 18th - 27th: My family comes to visit and we hit Paris, London, and Cambridge
Dec. 28th - Jan. 4th: Matt's family comes and we explore London, Cambridge, and Barcelona
Jan. 4th: Matt starts his second term but misses the first day of class on the 3rd
Jan. 14th - 22nd: Jenna and Allison and I have a girlie adventure in London, Paris, and Cambridge

No time for rest and relaxation! We've got nations to navigate! I am immensely looking forward to a nontraditional, less materialistic, more European Christmas.

Hopefully I will have some new pictures to put up soon. Thursday we are going to a Thanksgiving lunch at the graduate student center, but I might be so excited to see mashed potatoes and dressing that I forget all about taking any photos. I experienced this "no-time-for-pictures-we've-got-food-to-eat" phenomenon when we went to the Gourmet Burger Kitchen last Saturday night with our friends Reuben and Emily. Best (and only) burger and milkshake I've had since we have been here!!! Yum. Well, until next time!

Perspective...

James 4:14 (NLT) "How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog - it's here for a little while, and then it's gone."

Today I don't feel the normal inclination to recount the daily goings-on of the Grant household because two very sad changes in the Oklahoma State University community have occurred: 1. (and certainly least important) Our formerly undefeated football team has lost to Iowa State and will not go to the National Championship, and 2. The women's basketball coach and assistant coach were killed in a plane crash. 

As fans of OSU athletics, Matthew and I are disappointed that our Cowboys will not reach the top spot that we thought they would. Poor hubby stayed up until 5:00am to watch our boys lose in double overtime. But, this "big game" that seemed so important a week ago has been put in its place by the shadow of a more enormous loss - the loss of lives. I did not personally know Coaches Kurt Budke and Miranda Serna, but that doesn't mean that I am not affected by their sudden departure from this earth. I am proud to see the loyal OSU family offering their love and prayers, but it's unfortunate how it often takes tragedy to snap our priorities back into the proper order. Coach Budke could have easily been my dad or my uncle, and my soul aches when I let my mind wander through the realm of "what-if."

The thing I am most afraid of is losing the people I love. Thank God, I can rest assured that even if my parents or my sister or my husband was suddenly taken from me, I know I would one day be reunited with them in heaven. But, I have a feeling that eternal comfort would not keep me from absolutely unraveling. This life is so brief. So fragile and fleeting. Sometimes it is impossible to understand how circumstances that are so unjust and undeserved could ever be a part of a plan orchestrated by a loving God. In times of doubt, fear, worry, mourning, and uncertainty, I can only cling to the hope that I profess. When I don't understand why, I remind myself of Who. You can call it naivete, but this much I know - His lovingkindness never fails, and His mercies are new each morning. His promises are true, and His faithfulness is everlasting. We live in a decaying world, and our earthly lives are but a vapor. Their temporariness does not make them purposeless; in fact, it increases the urgency with which we must live as we have been called. 

My heart weeps for the families of those who have been snatched away so quickly and for all the suffering that undeniably happens on a daily basis. Why am I unfairly spared at this moment? I may never know. I can only give thanks to Jesus for His grace, offer my prayers for those who are hurting, and tell my loved ones how much they mean to me.

Story Time...

Like I mentioned yesterday, I attended another afternoon tea for international students at the home of John and Jenny Cooper. (I wrote about our first experience at the Cooper's back on the 10th of October under the post entitled Answered Prayers.) Anyway, this time I went to the tea on my own because Matthew needed to work on some homework. My temporary grandma Paola was going to be there, so I didn't feel so intimidated going stag. As soon as John opened the front door to greet me, I felt at home again. Something about the Cooper's house reminds me of The Chronicles of Narnia books. Maybe it's that John seems like he could be the professor from the series. There are relics and maps and books galore from practically every region of the world, and I get the impression that if I were to open a wardrobe, it would not be too far-fetched to expect I'd be transported to another time and place. This couple is just the sweetest thing, and I enjoyed getting to talk to John a lot during this particular Sunday afternoon.

Living in Cambridge has accosted me repeatedly with one certainty - my life is exceptionally boring and predictable compared to the lives of the people I have met. Granted, many of these people have a one-up on me since they have been on the earth double, triple, and sometimes, almost quadruple the amount of time that I have, but still... their histories are incredible. Even the students who are my age come from more diverse upbringings than I ever imagined they would. For instance, one of Matt's female classmates was born in Saudi Arabia and lived there until she was 8. She then moved to the UK, lived here for a few years, and then went back to a British international school in Saudi Arabia. Eventually she moved to Manchester and Liverpool and now plans to live in Cambridge for a few years while earning a doctorate. She is technically a Saudi citizen, but she speaks like a native Brit. Of course, there are even more dynamic stories than her's. With students from Chile, France, Cyprus, Italy, Slovakia, China, India, Canada, Scotland, and Poland (just to name a few) the "About Me" slide shows on Matthew's first day of class were fairly diverse. That makes my, "Hi, I'm Kelsey. I have lived in Oklahoma all my life. The end," sound kind of pathetic. I know, I know, my 'normal' is someone else's 'exotic;' but I do look forward to the day that my life story evokes a "Wow!" instead of an "Oh."

Well, if you reread the Answered Prayers post, you will remember the super romantic and adorable love story of John and Jenny. They were sweethearts during school, he went to serve in the military, they wrote a ton of letters back and forth, and eventually got married. A movie plot, basically. They have spent their 50+ years of marriage traveling around the world, and they now enjoy hosting international students and coordinating a housing complex for visiting scholars. Well, I got a chance to ask John more about his life as we were nibbling on biscuits and sipping our teas. He got the most giddy when he talked about his wife. I was surprised to see him so smiley. His wrinkled face absolutely lit up. He and Jenny still have the stacks of letters that they wrote to each other over five decades ago. Boy would I love to get my hands on those! (Matt told me that he thinks I should interview them both and write a biography of their lives. It would give me something enjoyable to do while documenting a story that deserves to be recorded. Maybe I will... or maybe I could start by recording the stories of my own grandparents and great grandmother. I don't know.)

Since it was Remembrance Sunday here in the UK (like our Veteran's Day in the US,) John's recollections of war times seemed to be forefront in his mind. He interrupted everyone's conversations and prompted us all to commemorate those who have died serving their countries, no matter what country that happened to be. He put his hand on the shoulder of the young man from Germany and said, "I know our countries have had many difficulties in the past and have shared in a lot of conflict and loss of life. All three of my uncles were killed in World War I, leaving my father as the only surviving son in his family. This is a sad day, but it is also a good day. A day of honor and respect. We put aside our differences and acknowledge sacrifices that have been made on our behalf." (At this point he started tearing up and pulled his handkerchief from his pocket. I unsuccessfully stifled my sniffs as the tears ran down my cheeks. I don't know how these old people get me crying every time! Geez.) And then he finished by saying, "I also hope we pause to remember that Jesus told us that there would be no love greater than a person who lays down his life for his friend. Don't forget that Jesus laid His life down for us so that we could be His friends." His words were so simple, but they were so sincere and heartfelt. I can't fully describe their poignancy. 

When I got a chance to speak personally with John, he told me about the years he was stationed in Palestine with the military. He was there from 1945 to 1948 and was present when Israel became its own country. Stashed away in his attic, John has the letter that he wrote to his mother accompanied by the newspaper from that day in 1948 when the front page news declared the birth of the Israel we know today. Again, I would love to get my hands on those pieces of paper! He told me that he only saw one person get killed during all his years of active duty. Unfortunately, that one person was a small Arab boy. He was shepherding his flock, accidentally crossed into hostile territory, and was gunned down on the spot. I couldn't pretend to understand how seeing something like that would affect a person's heart, so I mostly just listened quietly until he asked about Oklahoma. As a whole, I don't think my generation has a grasp of what it feels like to be at war like our grandparent's generation does. No wonder they want to sing patriotic hymns during the 4th of July and Veteran's Day Sunday.

I also got a chance to listen to an excerpt of a story told by this lady named Shirley. Her and her husband Basil are close friends with the Coopers, and they too have spent their married years going on great globe-trotting adventures. Basil lived in China during much of his childhood because his parents set up a missionary hospital in a village there. (Let's just stop and appreciate for a second what it would be like to go to a completely unfamiliar culture like that of China and adjust to life without using tools like the Internet. Can you envision the culture shock? Isolation? Adversity?) As if that was not enough, Japan invaded China when Basil was 11, and he and his parents were put in an internment camp. I didn't have the courage or emotional fortitude to ask whether his parents survived the ordeal, and Shirley didn't volunteer that information. But, from a few things she said, I felt like maybe they did not make it out of China alive. She said that Basil never went back to China until 2003, when he took Shirley and some of their Chinese friends from Cambridge with him. They went back to the villages from Basil's boyhood memories, visited the hospital his parents founded (which has now been taken over by the government,) and they even got to meet the 95 year-old Chinese woman who had served as matron of the hospital for years. She remembered Basil's parents very well, and it sounded like it was a touching reunion. According to Shirley, perhaps the neatest little tidbit of their visit to the hospital was that there was only a small part of the original structure that had gone untouched after all these years - the prayer room and chapel. She doesn't think that the government knows what a special portion of the building they have kept in tact, but it meant a lot to her husband.

The following quote (and the book it came from) is one of my favorites, and it came to mind as I was writing/typing today. It sums up something that I am very thankful for. Despite my self-proclaimed so far 'boring' life, I worship a God who has something in store that is anything but boring. And He will direct my steps. He will orchestrate for me the role of a lifetime. All I have to do is follow where He leads me. Even if I screw up my lines or miss a cue, the show will go on. His story will become history, and I will praise Him for eternity as every tongue and tribe and nation celebrates.

"God is always looking for ordinary people to play significant roles in His unfolding story. And, given that He is God and supremely confident in Himself, He is free to choose the least among us—the slowest, the lesser-known, the last, the smallest, the poorest—to accomplish amazing, God-sized stuff. While as humans we try to partner with the brightest and most powerful, God is simply looking for people who are willing to take Him at His word—those confident that with Him in the equation everything is possible." I Am Not, but I Know I AM by Louie Giglio

Yep. So that was my Sunday afternoon. Intense, thrilling, emotionally stirring. And I didn't even have to leave my chair. I just sat, sipped my tea, and listened during story time.

Guinea Pig...

All day Saturday, our friend Reuben graciously agreed to be our guinea pig as Matthew and I tested our abilities as Cambridge tour guides. Our experiment confirmed two things: 1. Cambridge can be covered sufficiently in a day. There is plenty to see, but a day is enough to get 'er done. 2. We were thankful to have a test run with Reuben so that we now have a better idea of what to do when our parents come to visit.

Most of our time was spent just walking around through the different colleges taking pictures. Reuben enjoys taking pictures as much as Matthew and I do, so we had fun hunting for the perfect shots. I guess we were feeling pretty confident and bold because we followed Matthew's "act-like-you-know-where-you-are-going-and-you-can-walk-in-anywhere" philosophy. So, we strolled pretentiously through Downing, Pembroke, Peterhouse, King's, Trinity, and St. John's Colleges before the day ended. We took a nice midday break for lunch at the Copper Kettle cafe on King's Parade and then went back to our flat for a classy teatime involving Reese's peanut butter cups. Once we had rested and digested sufficiently, we went back out to finish our sight seeing. All in all, it was a relaxed, yet fulfilling day. Thanks to Reuben for visiting and letting us lead him blindly through our temporary hometown!

I think the best way to recount the day is in photographs. Sorry, these aren't necessarily in chronological order, but here goes:

Inside the King's courtyard, we had a nice stranger take our picture, which turned out pretty well considering that I told him to push the wrong button on the camera.

Stairs to nowhere behind St. John's. I think I must have walked past them a hundred times and never noticed them until Reuben pointed them out.

Narnia. When it snows, I'm coming back to this spot to look for a large wardrobe full of fur coats.

The peak of autumnal foliage has long gone, but you can still spot remnants of lovely vine-covered walls if you keep your eyes open.

Wish we could have found this one before all the leaves fell off. You can tell from the few red and gold patches that this expanse of naked vines would have been spectacularly colorful a couple weeks ago.

A young tree stands in the middle of Peterhouse College, the smallest and oldest college in Cambridge. It was founded in 1284!

This is the courtyard nearest the entrance to Peterhouse.

Same courtyard, different angle. I'm noticing that lamp posts keep cropping up in some of my favorite photos. Maybe I'm becoming obsessed with them instead of flowers.

I told you that if we ever got inside King's College Chapel you would see pictures of the famed fan-vaulted ceiling...tah dah! We got inside!!! (And admission was free, thanks to Matthew's Cambridge ID.) It really was an impressive place. Very tall, very long, and very narrow.

The foundation for the chapel was laid by King Henry VI way back in 1441 on Passion Sunday. His dream was that his chapel would not be rivaled by any other in Oxford or Cambridge, and it would seem that his dream came true. Can you believe the entire ceiling was constructed in only 3 years between 1512 and 1515?

King's College Chapel had some of the most distinct stained glass I have ever come across. A lot of it was empty clear glass with various etchings and few colors. Like the flower above, a lot of the glass looked like it came straight out of someone's sketch book. A lot of it was also weird. VERY weird. See the following 3 pictures for examples.

Lady Justice about to be eaten by the evil monster version of the character from Where the Wild Things Are.

Really, what can I say about this one? I think someone put it in the window of the baptismal room as a joke. Critter with bat wings, tail, pee hole, cross eyes, and pointy tongue? It must be symbolic, but I am clearly missing the proper interpretation.

And finally, this scary troll man with a fruit basket over his head just gives me the heebie jeebies.

At least there were more familiar and less frightening elements to be found in the chapel, like this pretty angel atop the massive organ.

St. John's Chapel had a much different feel. It had a wooden ceiling that was painted red and gold. We didn't learn much about this one. Only walked through it briefly. It's more attractive from the outside, but I don't think we actually took any pictures of the exterior.

This is the Bridge of Sighs that spans the river and connects two parts of St. John's. It is another quintessential Cambridge landmark, like Mathematical Bridge off the back of Queen's College.

This was a random walkway between St. John's and our flat, but I thought the reflection in the water was worth capturing.

Hogwarts??? Not quite, but very similar. This is the dining hall at Trinity College. An unverified rumor has it that Trinity is supposedly the third largest landowner in England behind the government and the royal family.

I was getting artsy with my shadow, but my main goal was to get a picture like the next one...

I ride my bike by this quaint little driveway on my way into town. Charming is the only word that describes it for me.

This is Sidgwick Avenue, which we did not take Reuben down, but it one of the streets we use almost daily. I really like it because it stays pretty quiet, and of course, I love the trees lining each side of the road. They are really big, and the canopy of leaves overhead is nice until a lone falling leaf decides to smack you in the face on its way down.

Welp, that concludes another pictorial rummage through Cambridge. Besides hosting Reuben, the last few days have been pretty packed with church, a dinner with some of Matt's classmates, some retail therapy at a vintage booth at the market, and another international tea at the Coopers' house. I'll have to record the amazing stories I heard at the tea and share them with you tomorrow. Cheerio.