Thirty-one days of December on the wall . . .

Another month has flown past with the usual swiftness. We began December by celebrating my graduation and the beginning of Advent in our favourite city, joined by my parents (not pictured).

One of my most exciting graduation presents came from the UKBA, in the form of a work visa (we now have leave to remain in the UK until June) and the related return of our passports, which meant we were able to go home for Christmas. Having rushed straight from PhD into job, I was eager for a bit of a holiday, and I. and I. enjoyed our third transatlantic sailing as a Christmas gift to one another. Having taken this crossing a few times previously, we particularly enjoyed the opportunity to figure out some behind-the-scenes details of the crossing and culinary practices. After boarding the Queen Mary, we spent some time watching the final preparations for departure from a little nook on the top deck. We had a great view:

While crossing the Atlantic, we similarly enjoyed four behind-the-scenes culinary experiences. We first watched two very skilled chefs create stunning flowers and animals from vegetables:

We also enjoyed an instructional day in which several chefs demonstrated their decorative skills, while others taught guests to make canapes, sushi, and other delights. These are made etirely of sugar:

The ice swan below was crafted by the same two men who make flowers from vegetables; they are from a village in Indonesia with a long history of wood-carving:

We also had the amazing and unique opportunity to tour the kitchen for our restaurant (there are many kitchens on board the boat). We were able to watch one of the chefs mass-produce these "choux pastry swans," two of which we later enjoyed as dessert after lunch:

In their spare time, some of the amazing bakers on board the boat produce amazing decorative pieces; I believe the gingerbread display (much larger than that shown here) was made by some of the bakers, who also make fresh bread for all the guests each day.

We had rough weather on two days of our crossing, and I got a bit sea-sick due to the thirty-foot waves that hit us on the second day at sea, but once the storm was over, we enjoyed five of the most beautiful days I have ever seen. The sea changed every few hours, the skies were stunning, and the waves were exquisite.

On our last formal night, I. and I. discovered a new lounge at the top front of the boat, and enjoyed an evening of style and glamour while we tried two posh martinis. I. enjoyed the "Vesper," named after the James Bond drink, while I had a raspberry concoction, the construction of which involved lighting an orange peel on fire. (Apologies for the blurry photo; our amazing waitress [wearing stilettos!] manages to shake, pour, and carry two martinis on a rocking boat without spilling a drop, but she was slightly less able to take a clear photograph under the same conditions, which is probably a testament to her amazing Cunard training).

We arrived in New York three days before Christmas, and have spent several days unwinding, catching up with family, and visiting libraries.

It has been a wild and amazing year, and we have been blessed beyond measure. I am particularly grateful for my amazing husband, who has worked hard to keep me sane (and aware of the passage of months and time) and fed. We loved our time in Edinburgh (and miss our church tremendously) but the excitement is far from finished. Our schedule and plans are clear from now through June of 2013, but our plans thereafter vague and mysterious, and we look forward to discovering what God has in store, and (D.V.) sharing those adventures with you as they arise. 

Cheers!

In Which We Become A Bit Better-Travelled

When last I posted (in October), I was a day away from submitting the final draft of my thesis to the powers-that-be at my university. Here I am holding my thesis for a few moments between collecting it from the printers' shop and submitting it to Registry:

The submission of my thesis was followed by a Great Bustle, in which I madly prepped for classes, attended dozens of meetings, submitted lots of paperwork, and marked a large number of student essays. In the midst of all this, I. and I found time to venture outside Sheffield once or twice.

The first days of November found us back in Edinburgh to visit our church family and pack up our flat.

With a rental car stuffed to the gills, we drove back south and embarked upon the now-perpetual adventure of unpacking in a flat with still very little furniture. This adventure was alternately precipitated and halted by our trip to Oxford and the visitations of a number of friends and family members.

Oxford was, as ever, lovely; I spent two frantic days in the Bodleian exploring the delights of manuscripts, and I. joined me for the weekend as he had never yet visited that lovely city.

The weekend following saw us in London to meet one of our Albuquerque friends who is currently travelling around the world. N. and I. enjoyed a few quick strolls through the British Library and British Museum before my arrival, and we three lingered longer in the Science Museum. Among its great delights were the steam engine demonstration, which warmed up the hall tremendously.

I enjoyed learning about the monoplane developed near the beginning of one of the World Wars (and then never fully tested due to demand for weapons of warfare).

I. was more taken with the DNA model that used actual pieces from the original version built by Watson and Crick. (In the interests of fairness and promoting knowledge to the world, I believe I am supposed to mention that while the model was built by these two Nobel Laureates, the bulk of the research was done by Rosalind Franklin). Here's the model:

After the sojourn in London, we were joined by another Albuquerque friend, and I. and they went out on some exciting adventures (including a well-punctured trip to Hadrian's Wall, of which I. refused to take any photographs). We abundantly enjoyed their visit, and after their departure had just enough time to wash the sheets in preparation for my parents' visit, which was brief but fun. Of particular note during my parents' trip was our corporate journey to Scotland, where many celebrations were had by all. We celebrated St Andrew's Day in fine style, visiting the university named in his honour and participating in the graduation ceremonies.

We are now back in Sheffield and enjoying a quiet and empty house in advance of what will surely be a busy Christmas and New Year's. Merry Winter to All, and to All a Good Night!

Pirates of Penance

August was supposed to be a quiet month, full of diligent study and a bit of relaxation. I planned to read through my thesis, write a book proposal, send out a handful of last-ditch job applications, write out answers to common viva questions, and spend some quality time on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, enjoying their annual Festival. My viva was on the last day of the month.

My diary for September was blank. No one really knows how to plan the weeks immediately after the viva; in the best case scenario, I would have expected to spend two weeks fixing typos and getting the thesis printed. Realistically, I expected to spend a month or two making revisions. I hoped to pick up a little teaching in the St Andrews School of English (but figured I wouldn't, as teaching was scarce this year) and was all set to whisk I. off to the continent for his birthday and a "phew, it's over" celebration.

Some of that did, in fact, occur; the bits of the Festival we saw were varied and crazy and enjoyable. 

Two weeks into August, my advisor gave me a mock viva. We then had lunch to discuss a surprising turn of events: I had been offered an interview at a university in South Yorkshire. This was exciting and encouraging; I walked about with a bounce in my step, wrote a beautiful and exciting sample syllabus, read a lot of books, and generally avoided anything to do with my thesis, as one does when one is panicked about one's viva and has been for three years.

Two days before my viva, I took a train down south and spent a night in a very cushy hotel. I barely slept. In the morning, I realised I had forgotten to pack a change of underwear. I made do. My stockings ripped; I made do. I was so grateful for the interview as a chance to ignore the viva that it went remarkably well. In my head, nobody studying English could ever be offered a job before graduation, so I was very pleased with the low-stress opportunity to refine my interview skills (and ignore the looming viva).

I was a little shocked when they offered me the job. I finished my train ride home, kissed my husband, taught an online class, skimmed the conclusion to my thesis, and went to bed.

The viva--the event I'd been dreading for the better part of three years--was fine. (I passed). I spent the weekend looking at syllabi and houses and arranging viewings with a realtor and making a schedule for the fall. We managed to drink our celebratory champagne on Monday, and, a few days later, were in Sheffield looking at houses.

I moved down on the following Monday, finished my thesis corrections, dealt with a large stack of paperwork, and signed my contract the following morning. Life became a whirlwind, but a whirlwind more exciting and wonderful than I ever dared imagine.

September passed in a blur; highlights included getting the keys to our new flat, buying our first British furniture, and visiting Edinburgh at the end of the month for I.'s birthday and to spend some quality time at our church.  Birthday highlights included a trip to the cinema and a hike up Arthur's Seat.

(Edinburgh byway on the walk home after our hike):

We miss Edinburgh abundantly, particularly our church, but Sheffield has its own delights, which, at the moment, include some splendid autumn foliage. Sheffield has more trees for its size than any other city in the United Kingdom, which has made this fall particularly splendid.

Below is a view of the city from one of the main streets between our flat and my new office. Sheffield is a city on six or eight hills (most people round to seven, in Classical homage), one of which you can see in the distance.

It's a short term position, so I'm only here until June, but I am delighted by my new colleagues and my many wonderful students, and we are enjoying this new city quite a bit as well. Hopefully by the end of October I'll manage to be back on track with some sort of schedule, and can update with better and more interesting photos.

Selected Scottish Tourist Traps

With the stresses of submitting a draft of my thesis for (eventual) examination finally over, I. and I spent some time in July catching up on real life: taking a brief holiday, seeing my family, and exploring some new areas of Scotland.

Our first adventure took place in the lovely Scottish highland town of Pitlochry, which we first discovered about fifteen months ago when we visited nearby Blair Atholl for our anniversary. Pitlochry is a little larger, and boasts several dozen hotels and guesthouses, one of which offered a pretty amazing deal on Groupon early this year. In the general busyness of life, it took six months to schedule our return visit, which was well worth it for several reasons, not the least of which was that we got an amazing room with a little tower annex (it's the one just above the blue door in this photo). The weather was stunning, and the views of the highlands layered with fog were stunning.

After out break, I went on a little adventure to Manchester, in which I took no photographs but was part of a splendid manuscript-themed panel at a big conference on the Renaissance. I met some wonderful people, caught up with some colleagues and acquaintances, enjoyed the feedback and suggestions of some excellent scholars in my subfield, and very nearly misread my train ticket for the journey home, which resulted in a panicked last-minute taxi ride to the station, where I caught my train with two minutes to spare.

By the time I arrived home, my parents had already taken Edinburgh by storm, and I was swept up into a whirlwind of sightseeing. 

Thanks to another local discount website, I. and I snagged tickets on an evening jazz cruise on the Forth River (or Firth, as it's called in Scotland) and dragged my parents out on the open water for an evening of music and stunning views. (The entertainment and experience was well worth what we paid, but the buffet was a little lame, should anyone looking for reviews of the Maid of the Forth stumble across our blog).

The boat picked up alongside the Forth Rail Bridge in South Queensferry, sailed out to Inchcolm Abbey, and then took a meandering path back to the docks, culminating in a slow spin directly beneath the rail bridge when it became apparent that the journey could be accomplished in half the allotted time.

The journey provided some stunning views of Edinburgh, where we live, and particularly Leith, our neighbourhood: the mountains on the right side are Arthur's Seat and the Salisbury Crags; the dark spot to the left is one of the islands on the Forth (we think it might be Battleship Rock, so named for the fortifications made on it during World War II), and in the middle is the shoreline of Leith (and some western parts of Edinburgh). This photo will expand if clicked upon.

A day of rest on the weekend saw I. taking my dad to a whole host of Edinburgh museums, while my mother and I visited our wonderful Edinburgh Farmer's market, located (as previously mentioned) at the rear side of Edinburgh Castle.

After trundling around Edinburgh for a few days, we left our lovely city and took my parents on a jaunt to the Highlands, where we stayed in Pitlochry again and spent some quality time at nearby Blair Castle. Photos are forbidden in most rooms of the castle, but here's the great hall:

We also took a stroll around the Hercules Garden (the statue in the middle of the wall in the photo below is of Hercules) which was lovely, if a little hot in the blazing sunshine.

 

We saw some traditional "heiry coos" (a Highlands staple) and revisted the ruins of a chapel on the Blair estate.

After a luxurious night in a Pitlochry bed and breakfast, we visited nearby Edradour whisky distillery, where I. and I had been taken by some British friends a few years back. Edradour was slightly less enthralling on this occasion, as they've revamped their tour and begun to charge rather steep admission prices. Although I wasn't impressed with the customer service, the new tour guides (once upon a time the tours were led by former employees) or the near impossibility of having a cup of coffee in leisure, we did enjoy one modification: the opportunity to visit the barn in which the casks are left to mature.

A wet day of rest and museums in Edinburgh soon passed, and the dawn of the next day saw us on a Journey to the Western Isles (but alas, only two of them) as we travelled by train to the lovely town of Oban.

My dad and I hiked up to this lovely ruined castle, the top of which provided some stunning views.

(Below is a sneak peak of our next day's entertainment:)

Later in the evening, Dad, I. and I climbed a short distance from our amazing bed and breakfast in Oban to McCaig's tower, an imposing structure from outside and one that offers some lovely views from its hilltop post.

Bright and early the next morning, we hopped on a ferry for Mull, enjoying some lovely views of Oban as we left.

(I've included the photo below because this is exactly how Scottish hills are portrayed in paintings, and it is exactly right: dappled sunlight and little dark patches where there are clouds over top. I love Scotland).

We left the ferry, bussed across Mull, and caught another ferry in the tiny town of Fionnephort:

This ferry journey was shorter than the other, but it was a lovely day and the views were spectacular.

From Fionnephort we could see our destination: Iona abbey on the small island of Iona, and one of the most rural tourist traps in the whole of the British Isles.

I. and I were slightly underwhelmed by the abbey, but one of the things I enjoyed a lot was the level of detailing on the columns in the abbey courtyard. The courtyard is one of the most highly photographed places on Iona, but the details very rarely come across in postcards and snapshots.

We had lunch courtesy of a heavily overpriced grocery store, and then discovered that there were some places to love on the Isle of Iona. In particular, I. and I. quite enjoyed the Iona nunnery (now in ruins):

I. and my dad also took a short hike to the north coast of the island, which, unlike the Abbey, is almost completely deserted. (Photo by I.)

While there, they also saw the filming of a documentary about St. Columba, and in the photo below (also taken by I.) you can see the sails of the replica ship built for the production (the boat to its right holds the film crew).

Our ferry rides back to Oban were just as lovely as the ferry rides en route to Iona, and we particularly enjoyed the views of Duart Castle (to the south of the ferry) and a rather stunning lighthouse (on the north side of the ferry).

The rest of our month has been a little less eventful, consisting mainly of job applications, some trips to St Andrews, and the opening of the Olympics. We are both still looking for jobs (currently I have applications out on three continents!), and I. is still making some decisions about future academic endeavours. In the meantime, we are enjoying the Edinburgh summer and gearing up for the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, a month-long celebration of the arts, including street theatre, stand-up comedy, and a wide range of dramatic and musical performances.