...so little time! Lately I will be driving along and realize that I am composing a blog post in my mind about something I have heard on NPR or something that happened at school or some dire event in the news...but by the time I reach my destination, other tasks will have pushed their way to the front of the line, and there you have it: another blog post lost to the ages. So I guess it is a good thing that I don't have any Dear Readers, as they would be nothing but disappointed at my meager output. Perhaps I need a goal or a governing principle ( I mean, other than "Here's what I am thinking about today", that is...) or a slant or...I know, a BRAND! In the commoditization (word?) of modern society, where increasingly we assess things on terms of how they would sell, this might be a timely and fruitful focus, yielding many opportunities for wry commentary. But..what would my brand be? Hmmmm. I will cogitate on this and see what I come up with. I'm not sure that the first one that pops into my head, "overtired overworked high school teacher", has much cachet, panache, or elan - to trot out but a few stylish (and stylishly poncy) Frenchisms.
In the mean time, perhaps the best I can do to get on a steady roll and make this WildWorld blog anew is to commit to writing on a schedule. As in a certain amount of posts per week. Arbitrary, true, and no doubt doomed to failure (in the bad habit department, one of my most pernicious is to break most of the personal rules or restrictions I put on myself, and usually quickly), but worth a shot. Let's not totally dispense with the comforting myopia of hope, now, right?
Okay, so that's decided. Now...how many posts a week? Initially, let's try to be rigid and establish a routine. Hmmm. But let's also try not to overdo it and put too much pressure on the feckless writer, who is known to collapse into paralysis when too many things add up. So...the magic number is...three! Three because I am reading Dante with my 10th graders, and we're all kind of entranced with his Trinity obsession. Three because I think I can manage that. And three because good things, so they say, come in threes. And we all want some good things.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
Getting out my swiffer...
...and knocking the mountains of dust off this blog - so look out! Wait, who am I talk...er, I mean writing to? I am sure that any reader who strayed into my "spot" last summer has long since strayed away...and those were the family members!
I guess I am writing to myself.
A lot has happened since I blogged last summer, and I am relatively shocked to now notice that THIS summer is almost officially over (its official end being the beginning of teacher work days next week on the outrageously premature date of Monday, August 17). I originally conceived of this blog as a way to do something useful with the gazillions of pictures I take when traveling, and it worked nicely for that, while admittedly eating up a lot of my time. I particularly appreciated the way that I could build a sort of mini-narrative around the images. But then I returned to the U.S. with a whole bunch of pictures from the end of the journey that I hadn't done anything with, and life got busy in a hurry; once the school year started, I just could never find the time to get back into the habit. I didn't really have a focus for the blog anymore. It didn't seem to have a point. And I had papers to grade....always!
Now I am going to try to get back into the mode. Why? A couple of reasons. For one, I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" yesterday, which brought the whole blog thing up to the surface with the notion that a blog can be many things to many people. I also visited my niece's blog and it reminded me of how much fun I had had with mine. Further, I now read some blogs, mostly political, and I can see the usefulness, especially if I am writing for myself, of articulating my thoughts, catching and inserting observation and information as it happens, and thus concretising the near-constant and increasingly concerned strand of commentary in my head about what's going on in our country. Which is not to say that the focus of this blog has become political -nay, fear not, gentle...reader. But that politics may creep in from time to time....that's a certainty. Finally, I am re-entering the blogosphere because the title of my blog pertains directly to the zeitgeist in these here United States at this moment - this very moment - in time, and therefore I sense an unexpected serendipidity in the air. Wild world, indeed. On so many levels. More on same later.
My store of gloriously free days now almost emptied, my luxurious stretch of multiple travels now receding in the rearview (I can still see the billboard for Portland, but it is shrinking), and a new and surely daunting year ahead...well, I should have started this weeks if not months ago. Story of my life.
I guess I am writing to myself.
A lot has happened since I blogged last summer, and I am relatively shocked to now notice that THIS summer is almost officially over (its official end being the beginning of teacher work days next week on the outrageously premature date of Monday, August 17). I originally conceived of this blog as a way to do something useful with the gazillions of pictures I take when traveling, and it worked nicely for that, while admittedly eating up a lot of my time. I particularly appreciated the way that I could build a sort of mini-narrative around the images. But then I returned to the U.S. with a whole bunch of pictures from the end of the journey that I hadn't done anything with, and life got busy in a hurry; once the school year started, I just could never find the time to get back into the habit. I didn't really have a focus for the blog anymore. It didn't seem to have a point. And I had papers to grade....always!
Now I am going to try to get back into the mode. Why? A couple of reasons. For one, I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" yesterday, which brought the whole blog thing up to the surface with the notion that a blog can be many things to many people. I also visited my niece's blog and it reminded me of how much fun I had had with mine. Further, I now read some blogs, mostly political, and I can see the usefulness, especially if I am writing for myself, of articulating my thoughts, catching and inserting observation and information as it happens, and thus concretising the near-constant and increasingly concerned strand of commentary in my head about what's going on in our country. Which is not to say that the focus of this blog has become political -nay, fear not, gentle...reader. But that politics may creep in from time to time....that's a certainty. Finally, I am re-entering the blogosphere because the title of my blog pertains directly to the zeitgeist in these here United States at this moment - this very moment - in time, and therefore I sense an unexpected serendipidity in the air. Wild world, indeed. On so many levels. More on same later.
My store of gloriously free days now almost emptied, my luxurious stretch of multiple travels now receding in the rearview (I can still see the billboard for Portland, but it is shrinking), and a new and surely daunting year ahead...well, I should have started this weeks if not months ago. Story of my life.
Saturday, 30 August 2008
Saffron Walden
We crammed a lot of action into our last week in England. One of the last day trips with the students was scheduled to be a visit to Audley End, a palatial British country mansion in the previously saffron-producing village of Saffron Walden. It just so happened that Van Morrison was slated to play at the outdoor concert theatre on the great lawn there, so Carter and I went to Saffron Walden a day before the rest of the crew with tickets to the concert.
The Brits are really good at outdoor performance picnics. People set up elaborate "all mod cons" tents and bring tables, chairs, lamps, heaters, blankets,umbrellas - always umbrellas! - and food....oh my goodness, the food!!
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's Carter in the rain at the bus stop in Cambridge.
Now, Saffron Walden is 15 miles from Cambridge. 15 miles! How long did it take to get there, through the many villages en route? An hour and 15 minutes! No kidding. We traveled by bus a lot this summer, and we came to accept - nay, even love - the way that they turn a seemingly short journey long. All distance extend into infinity once you step on a bus. (The way they often have the HEAT on during the muggy summer weather - that we did not love quite so much...!)
Ever well-planned, Carter had us booked into a B&B-cum-pub, the Cross Keys, right on the High Street of Saffron Walden:
The B&B/pub, while cute, was a little down-market in the rooms division:
Here' s the view out the window. I took this after watching the nice lady (who turned out to be the publican's wife) hanging them up whilst smoking a cigarette and patting the dog.
But no worries! We set off in search of lunch via the market
...and then to explore Saffron Walden in its many and strange splendors.
Like what, you ask?
Like pargeting, that's what. We entered Saffron Walden ignorant about this architectural style and left a day later full of admiration and appreciation, with sharp eyes for new examples. Pargeting is a way of using exterior plaster in bas - and sometimes not so bas -relief decorative patterns, and Saffron Walden is bursting with particularly fine examples, of which the following may be at the apex:
Crazy, huh? Once we knew what we were looking for, we saw it everywhere! Most of the pargeting we saw was less elaborate, consisting mostly of patterns stamped into the plaster, but the variety of styles and motifs spoke to its long history in Saffron Walden's play book.
Carter was immediately intrigued as to how it is done, and we had a brief, rosy fantasy about becoming traveling pargeters, roaming the country with plaster and trowel.
Brief.
Anyway, like Wicken Fen, which was crowded with ornate and artsy thatched houses, Saffron Walden has the corner on the pargeting market, apparently. So when we do make that career move, at least we know where to learn the trade.
Like we needed another reason to warrant a return trip to Saffron Walden (we were to have many, many by the time we left), the town also features a very famous turf maze - the largest in England. Splendors, indeed!
The idea behind the turf maze was that an eligible girl would stand in the center, and her suitors would compete to see who could walk the maze - no cheating allowed! - the fastest to reach her. The earliest records of the maze go back to the 1600's, and it has been maintained and recut repeatedly during its long history. Here's a diagram:
It is 1500 feet from outside to the center if you walk the path, and it's a dizzying experience, especially if you try to walk it quickly.
When we were there, it was pouring down rain. Luckily, I got to be the girl in the middle....
But it was mighty windy!
I'm not sure what I was trying to communicate here - a combination of sticking out my tongue and yelling at Carter to take the bloody picture because I was getting soaked? It looks like Dawn of the Dead, or, since it's England, Shawn of the Dead....
Carter had to wind his way towards me. He started off with great determination:
Then his dedication seemed to falter....
....and then he cheated!
And voila! He got me, through sleight of foot! Not sure he took this all that seriously - but metaphorically, given our tortuous early romantic history, the maze is actually a rather goodly fit, I'd say.
And then it started to rain again, driving us under the trees because even umbrellas were not enough to keep us dry.
And so we bade a fond farewell to the turf maze:
...and made our way to the Bridge End Gardens, where they have a really fantastic hedge maze! I know, I know - now YOU want to go to Saffron Walden, too, what with these many and odd entertainments (and, like the song says, the best is yet to come...!).
This stony peacock welcomed us to these gorgeous gardens
Here's the entrance to the maze.
It was a VERY hard maze, but we made it to the center, where you can climb up and have a look at the pattern:
There were other things to see - a rather amazing museum, a very ruinous castle, and the lovely parish church, which is the largest in England:
The day brightened, and the streets showed off their beauties:
And finally it was time to go to the concert! We weren't alllowed to take pictures during the concert, so I only have a few, which is a shame, because the whole thing was a prime example of the English summer outdoor concert experience. A huge outdoor stage was set up with the amazing Audley End palace as a backdrop:
As I noted earlier, the Brits are serious (competitive, even) about outdoor concerts.
We showed up feeling very well-provisioned up with a hamper full of food and blankets (and umbrellas!) several hours before the 7:30 start time only to find that, like a battleground in medieval times, territories had already been demarcated, tents and encampments already set up with braziers burning, wine flowing, bread breaking...
But we got a spot right down in front of the stage and set up our victuals:
It was perhaps telling about the age of the crowd that the longest lines at the concessions were for coffee and tea! Yes, mostly middle-aged...and we needed to stay awake, right?
And the concert was amazing! Van Morrison was amazing! In great voice, with a nine piece band and backup singers, he played for several hours and managed to avoid being reduced to a "nostalgia" act by eschewing his bigger hits and concentrating on lesser-known masterpieces - as well as doing a mind-blowing cover of Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd). I wish I had some pictures, but there were uniformed guys preventing me.
After the concert, we walked back to our B&B cum Pub. The sweet ladies at the bar had told us earlier that there would be karaoke that night until at least midnight, in case we wanted to sleep or anything ("it might be noisy" quoth they) , and that the publican ran the show and had a wonderful singing voice.
This did not quite prepare us for the WILD scene that awaited us at the Cross Keys.
It was like the whole town was there and ready to PARTY! Young folks - middle-aged folks - old folks - everyone crowded into the smallish room, dancing, singing along, drinking - and the publican! A huge man named Kenneth who presided over the songs and singers and occasionally belted one out himself (he did have an AWESOME, appropriately gigantic voice). It was simply a BLAST! The people were soooo friendly and easy-going, everyone just out for a fun Saturday night - we met several lovely people, we sang (I did These Boots are Made for Walking) ; we just had the best time. It would only have been better if Van had wandered in.....
The next morning, who should come out to serve us breakfast? The publican! He sings, he draws pints, he parties late (his last song was a duet with his wife: the whole crowd called for it!)...he cooks breakfast! We loved him. He told us that he plans to upgrade the rooms.....
Then we left to meet the rest of the program at Audley End, which was pretty spectacular. A few pics:
The hedge below was almost surreal-looking:
We are fond of huge old cedar trees, and this one caught our attention. The bough was so heavy that it lay on the ground, where it had developed roots. And a real peacock.
Here's Carter in one:
I wasn't allowed to take pictures of the interior of Audley End, but it was pretty spectacular.
We left Saffron Walden for our last few days in Cambridge vowing to follow Nashe's advice the next time we come to England, that being to have with us to Saffron Walden.
The Brits are really good at outdoor performance picnics. People set up elaborate "all mod cons" tents and bring tables, chairs, lamps, heaters, blankets,umbrellas - always umbrellas! - and food....oh my goodness, the food!!
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Here's Carter in the rain at the bus stop in Cambridge.
Now, Saffron Walden is 15 miles from Cambridge. 15 miles! How long did it take to get there, through the many villages en route? An hour and 15 minutes! No kidding. We traveled by bus a lot this summer, and we came to accept - nay, even love - the way that they turn a seemingly short journey long. All distance extend into infinity once you step on a bus. (The way they often have the HEAT on during the muggy summer weather - that we did not love quite so much...!)
Ever well-planned, Carter had us booked into a B&B-cum-pub, the Cross Keys, right on the High Street of Saffron Walden:
The B&B/pub, while cute, was a little down-market in the rooms division:
Here' s the view out the window. I took this after watching the nice lady (who turned out to be the publican's wife) hanging them up whilst smoking a cigarette and patting the dog.
But no worries! We set off in search of lunch via the market
...and then to explore Saffron Walden in its many and strange splendors.
Like what, you ask?
Like pargeting, that's what. We entered Saffron Walden ignorant about this architectural style and left a day later full of admiration and appreciation, with sharp eyes for new examples. Pargeting is a way of using exterior plaster in bas - and sometimes not so bas -relief decorative patterns, and Saffron Walden is bursting with particularly fine examples, of which the following may be at the apex:
Crazy, huh? Once we knew what we were looking for, we saw it everywhere! Most of the pargeting we saw was less elaborate, consisting mostly of patterns stamped into the plaster, but the variety of styles and motifs spoke to its long history in Saffron Walden's play book.
Carter was immediately intrigued as to how it is done, and we had a brief, rosy fantasy about becoming traveling pargeters, roaming the country with plaster and trowel.
Brief.
Anyway, like Wicken Fen, which was crowded with ornate and artsy thatched houses, Saffron Walden has the corner on the pargeting market, apparently. So when we do make that career move, at least we know where to learn the trade.
Like we needed another reason to warrant a return trip to Saffron Walden (we were to have many, many by the time we left), the town also features a very famous turf maze - the largest in England. Splendors, indeed!
The idea behind the turf maze was that an eligible girl would stand in the center, and her suitors would compete to see who could walk the maze - no cheating allowed! - the fastest to reach her. The earliest records of the maze go back to the 1600's, and it has been maintained and recut repeatedly during its long history. Here's a diagram:
It is 1500 feet from outside to the center if you walk the path, and it's a dizzying experience, especially if you try to walk it quickly.
When we were there, it was pouring down rain. Luckily, I got to be the girl in the middle....
But it was mighty windy!
I'm not sure what I was trying to communicate here - a combination of sticking out my tongue and yelling at Carter to take the bloody picture because I was getting soaked? It looks like Dawn of the Dead, or, since it's England, Shawn of the Dead....
Carter had to wind his way towards me. He started off with great determination:
Then his dedication seemed to falter....
....and then he cheated!
And voila! He got me, through sleight of foot! Not sure he took this all that seriously - but metaphorically, given our tortuous early romantic history, the maze is actually a rather goodly fit, I'd say.
And then it started to rain again, driving us under the trees because even umbrellas were not enough to keep us dry.
And so we bade a fond farewell to the turf maze:
...and made our way to the Bridge End Gardens, where they have a really fantastic hedge maze! I know, I know - now YOU want to go to Saffron Walden, too, what with these many and odd entertainments (and, like the song says, the best is yet to come...!).
This stony peacock welcomed us to these gorgeous gardens
Here's the entrance to the maze.
It was a VERY hard maze, but we made it to the center, where you can climb up and have a look at the pattern:
There were other things to see - a rather amazing museum, a very ruinous castle, and the lovely parish church, which is the largest in England:
The day brightened, and the streets showed off their beauties:
And finally it was time to go to the concert! We weren't alllowed to take pictures during the concert, so I only have a few, which is a shame, because the whole thing was a prime example of the English summer outdoor concert experience. A huge outdoor stage was set up with the amazing Audley End palace as a backdrop:
As I noted earlier, the Brits are serious (competitive, even) about outdoor concerts.
We showed up feeling very well-provisioned up with a hamper full of food and blankets (and umbrellas!) several hours before the 7:30 start time only to find that, like a battleground in medieval times, territories had already been demarcated, tents and encampments already set up with braziers burning, wine flowing, bread breaking...
But we got a spot right down in front of the stage and set up our victuals:
It was perhaps telling about the age of the crowd that the longest lines at the concessions were for coffee and tea! Yes, mostly middle-aged...and we needed to stay awake, right?
And the concert was amazing! Van Morrison was amazing! In great voice, with a nine piece band and backup singers, he played for several hours and managed to avoid being reduced to a "nostalgia" act by eschewing his bigger hits and concentrating on lesser-known masterpieces - as well as doing a mind-blowing cover of Comfortably Numb (Pink Floyd). I wish I had some pictures, but there were uniformed guys preventing me.
After the concert, we walked back to our B&B cum Pub. The sweet ladies at the bar had told us earlier that there would be karaoke that night until at least midnight, in case we wanted to sleep or anything ("it might be noisy" quoth they) , and that the publican ran the show and had a wonderful singing voice.
This did not quite prepare us for the WILD scene that awaited us at the Cross Keys.
It was like the whole town was there and ready to PARTY! Young folks - middle-aged folks - old folks - everyone crowded into the smallish room, dancing, singing along, drinking - and the publican! A huge man named Kenneth who presided over the songs and singers and occasionally belted one out himself (he did have an AWESOME, appropriately gigantic voice). It was simply a BLAST! The people were soooo friendly and easy-going, everyone just out for a fun Saturday night - we met several lovely people, we sang (I did These Boots are Made for Walking) ; we just had the best time. It would only have been better if Van had wandered in.....
The next morning, who should come out to serve us breakfast? The publican! He sings, he draws pints, he parties late (his last song was a duet with his wife: the whole crowd called for it!)...he cooks breakfast! We loved him. He told us that he plans to upgrade the rooms.....
Then we left to meet the rest of the program at Audley End, which was pretty spectacular. A few pics:
The hedge below was almost surreal-looking:
We are fond of huge old cedar trees, and this one caught our attention. The bough was so heavy that it lay on the ground, where it had developed roots. And a real peacock.
Here's Carter in one:
I wasn't allowed to take pictures of the interior of Audley End, but it was pretty spectacular.
We left Saffron Walden for our last few days in Cambridge vowing to follow Nashe's advice the next time we come to England, that being to have with us to Saffron Walden.
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