Half of me thinks I ought to begin this post by saying that we are home, and for some definitions of that word, I suppose, we are. After a grand hurrah in Europe, I. and I sailed across the Atlantic one final time, docking in New York City, within sight of the Statue of Liberty, on a humid day in late July, and driving home with my parents in a minivan rented especially to accommodate our fourteen suitcases stuffed with some essentials, all the books I couldn't bear to give away, and a jumble of sentimental items. After three years and ten months abroad, most of the sentiment is contained in smaller places (the thousands of .jpgs on my hard drive, probably a million happy memories, and several dozen friendships that I hope will last for decades), but it was surprising to see how attached one can become to a three-pound candle holder from a charity shop (the candleholder, being large and unwieldy, returned to the charity shop from whence it came, but other similarly frivolous items are now sitting in suitcases, swaddled in shirts and tea towels and various undergarments).
Arriving in New York was far less exciting than was arriving in Southampton, nearly four years ago, and debarkation marked the end of our holiday and the beginning of the panicked job hunt, which has now been ongoing for almost exactly 24 hours. Fingers crossed, and if you'd like I. and I to move to your state, just give us a holler if you hear of any full-time job openings!
Photos from the last hurrah are forthcoming . . . stay tuned!
Monday, 29 July 2013
Sunday, 2 June 2013
A Standard Sheffield Sunday
Looking back over this blog at the end of May, I realised that it can be really easy to get caught up in the extraordinary moments of life and miss the abundant smaller blessings with which we are surrounded every day. This is a photo taken on our walk home from church a few weeks ago; while not the most stunning image ever, it shows many of the things I really love about Sheffield, including the stunning hills and views. I also really love being able to walk to church, and to work, and to almost everything around us.
Friday, 31 May 2013
Nutters' May Days
May began with a rash of warm sunny days that were just a bit too warm for me and not quite warm enough for my splendid husband. The evenings have begun to linger long into hours that should by all decent standards be considered "night" (though it's rarely dark enough to sleep now) and in the early days of May, when I had enough time to breathe, we frequently spent a few hours enjoying beautiful Sheffield in the evenings and on weekends. The botanical gardens are in full bloom (though this is actually a photo of the fountain).
I attempted my first Sangria one sunny day, and I. and I spent a relaxing afternoon sitting on the lawn and playing number games competitively (as we do).
The MA module on which I taught this semester took a trip to Hardwick Hall, located in nearby Derbyshire. We spent most of our time in the "new" house, which was built by Bess of Hardwick in the late sixteenth century. Bess was a rather formidable businesswoman in her day, and a colleague of mine has recently launched a very cool website on which you can read some of her correspondence.
The poles poking up at the bottom of the below photo, I am told, are supports for hops plants.
The gardens were in partial bloom, and the tulips were stunning.
Across a small road from Hardwick Hall is Bess' former house, which is not (now) quite as formidable as it presumably once was.
During May, I also took two trips to Wortley Hall, which is more modern than Hardwick but still quite lovely. Wortley is located a bit north (by northwest) of Sheffield, and my department sponsored two "away days" there, in which we attended full days of meetings in exchange for some lovely scenery and very pleasant gardens.
For the last weekend in May, I. and I travelled back to Edinburgh for what is likely to be the last time in a very long while. While in our beloved city, we attended a Whisky Stramash with some good friends and enjoyed a picnic with members of our Leith church. We had a warm and sunny weekend yet again, and Edinburgh was beautiful, as ever.
Our good friends with whom we were staying took us for fish and chips in Queensferry for the last night of our stay. The weather was beautiful, dinner was delicious, and the company was superb.
June brings with it a new set of challenges, and a rather daunting abundance of uncertainties. As of this moment, we have about thirty more days in which we can legally live in the beautiful United Kingdom, and neither of us has any plans for the fall. In the meantime, however, I am grappling with a large stack of student essays and trying to live each of these last beatiful days to the fullest.
I attempted my first Sangria one sunny day, and I. and I spent a relaxing afternoon sitting on the lawn and playing number games competitively (as we do).
The MA module on which I taught this semester took a trip to Hardwick Hall, located in nearby Derbyshire. We spent most of our time in the "new" house, which was built by Bess of Hardwick in the late sixteenth century. Bess was a rather formidable businesswoman in her day, and a colleague of mine has recently launched a very cool website on which you can read some of her correspondence.
The poles poking up at the bottom of the below photo, I am told, are supports for hops plants.
The gardens were in partial bloom, and the tulips were stunning.
Across a small road from Hardwick Hall is Bess' former house, which is not (now) quite as formidable as it presumably once was.
During May, I also took two trips to Wortley Hall, which is more modern than Hardwick but still quite lovely. Wortley is located a bit north (by northwest) of Sheffield, and my department sponsored two "away days" there, in which we attended full days of meetings in exchange for some lovely scenery and very pleasant gardens.
For the last weekend in May, I. and I travelled back to Edinburgh for what is likely to be the last time in a very long while. While in our beloved city, we attended a Whisky Stramash with some good friends and enjoyed a picnic with members of our Leith church. We had a warm and sunny weekend yet again, and Edinburgh was beautiful, as ever.
Our good friends with whom we were staying took us for fish and chips in Queensferry for the last night of our stay. The weather was beautiful, dinner was delicious, and the company was superb.
June brings with it a new set of challenges, and a rather daunting abundance of uncertainties. As of this moment, we have about thirty more days in which we can legally live in the beautiful United Kingdom, and neither of us has any plans for the fall. In the meantime, however, I am grappling with a large stack of student essays and trying to live each of these last beatiful days to the fullest.
Saturday, 11 May 2013
What a Beautiful World
The last few weeks have been filled with endings. I gave my last lecture at Sheffield, perhaps ever. I taught my last tutorial. The weather has been warm and bright and beautiful, and as the world around me has been bursting into fullest bloom, I have fought to give my students every last ounce of attention and guidance and support that I can possibly provide; I have striven to enjoy every moment (including the hours of marking); and I constantly endeavour to say goodbye even as I live these last days to the fullest.
God has been gracious. My first year out of graduate school was supposed to be hard and painful, nd I instead landed in a supportive and caring department of wonderful and open and generous scholars and colleagues. I have grown and been blessed in ways I could never have imagined. One year ago, I had barely even heard of Sheffield; now I live here, and work here, and teach here.
Our Spring has been beautiful.
God has been gracious. My first year out of graduate school was supposed to be hard and painful, nd I instead landed in a supportive and caring department of wonderful and open and generous scholars and colleagues. I have grown and been blessed in ways I could never have imagined. One year ago, I had barely even heard of Sheffield; now I live here, and work here, and teach here.
Our Spring has been beautiful.
The clock is ticking, and the final weeks of my job will be lost amid a sea of essays and emails and job applications and packing. It is important to me to dwell on the beautiful moments, and the peaceful ones, as the days of panic loom. Next year could easily be one of the most difficult of our lives, but God has been gracious to us thus far, and our joys are far from final.
Monday, 6 May 2013
April Showers
I began the month of April somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, flying home to see my husband after two weeks of travelling. From that auspicious beginning, I quickly regressed into a semi-stationary lump of marking madness. Most of April the month was lost in a blur of essays and abstracts, as I slogged my way through a stack of papers and other written work at a rate that, looking back, was rather painfully slow (something to improve upon if I end up teaching in the US next year). My wonderful and patient husband spent the month cooking me meals and trying to make sure I remembered to come home from the office. (My schedule always goes wonky in the British summers, because I expect to work when it is light outside.)
This month, I. and I had the pleasure of enjoying two local experiences previously purchased from online coupon websites. We tried a local Thai restaurant (very nice) and also attended our first rugby game, where the Sheffield Tigers defeated the Leicester Lions, 15-10. We figured out many of the rules as things went along, and were served steak and ale pies at half-time. It was a beatiful sunny day (with pockets of snow on the ground).
Still no news on our plans for next year. This week is my last week of teaching (there are many weeks of exams and essays and marking to come). I. has been enjoying the warmer British weather recently, and I have been desperately trying not to overheat as I walk to work each morning; we are trying to take and enjoy each day as it comes, and so far we have been having a wonderful spring.
This month, I. and I had the pleasure of enjoying two local experiences previously purchased from online coupon websites. We tried a local Thai restaurant (very nice) and also attended our first rugby game, where the Sheffield Tigers defeated the Leicester Lions, 15-10. We figured out many of the rules as things went along, and were served steak and ale pies at half-time. It was a beatiful sunny day (with pockets of snow on the ground).
Still no news on our plans for next year. This week is my last week of teaching (there are many weeks of exams and essays and marking to come). I. has been enjoying the warmer British weather recently, and I have been desperately trying not to overheat as I walk to work each morning; we are trying to take and enjoy each day as it comes, and so far we have been having a wonderful spring.
Tuesday, 2 April 2013
March Madness
As my time in academia, has expanded, March has repeatedly become the most exciting and exhausting month for my calendar, and this year was more of the same.
We began the month with one of the most glorious weekend days we have yet seen in Sheffield(or the United Kingdom, for that matter) and celebrated its warmth and sunshine by walking out to the edge of the Peak District. Along the way, we crossed paths with a couple from our new church, and enjoyed the chance to get to know them a bit better.
The Peak District is really gorgeous (I think) and quintessentially British landscape (except that there are no sheep! We did, however, pass a pasture of llamas).
Here's the view of Sheffield from the top of the tallest hill we climbed. The large-ish building jutting up from the treeline in the centre of the photograph is quite near our flat; we estimated that we walked about three miles to see this view.
And, because I mentioned our churchfellow, here's a quick snapshot of the doors of our church (new in the midst of the very old).
In the middle of the month, I.'s mother flew over for a visit, with the intention of getting to see Britain when it was not in the midst of a major winter storm. It has been a cold winter, and we still had snow on the ground for most of her visit, but we had fewer plumbing disasters (aside from a leak in our bathroom) and not quite as much actual ice. I. took her around some of the local attractions (mostly just pubs, I think) while I worked, and we all three visited lovely nearby York once my teaching obligations had ended.
York, however, was only the very tip of the iceberg (and was, in fact, a bit cold and icy during our adventure there).
On the first proper day of my Easter Holiday, we ventured to Nottingham for lunch and from there made our way to the airport, and, by default, to lovely Poland. We began this trip in Warsaw, which as a city has been heavily reconstructed since World War II but with the intention of making the facsimile as like the original as possible. We stayed in a fabulous flat in the centre of the Stare Miasto (Old Town), which was wonderful for the quaintness but not as splendid for transport links. Our big excursion was a trip to the Warsaw Uprising Museum, which is a quite well designed museum that holds a wealth of World War II artifacts (including an airplane).
I. and his mother just outside the Stare Miasto:
From Warsaw, we took a train to Krakow, where I. and I visited for our anniversary last March as well. Where Krakow last year was warm and sunny, we had beautiful snow and cold rain this year, but managed to amuse ourselves quite nicely regardless.
Among the "Greatest Hits of Poland" to which we introduced I's mother were the museums and cathedral on Wawel Hill. Wawel was a bit of a hike to climb, but the freshly fallen snow made it particularly lovely, so the uphill trek was well worth the effort.
One benefit of climbing Wawel is the stunning views it offers across Krakow.
I. was very keen to hear the trumpeter in St Mary's church again--you can't see the trumpet in this photo, but it was a beautiful evening regardless.
We spent a wonderful day walking around two street markets, and rested our feet in between with pierogies and afterwards with these delicious cream-filled delights from a nearby piekarnia (bakery).
Though we were very glad to have her along, I.'s mom was very aware that this was our anniversary trip and thus also very gracious about making sure I. and I had time alone together every day. On one evening, we ventured out to have a quiet dinner date at a wonderful Ukranian restaurant (which we had also visited last year) and stopped along the way to listen to an amazing singer who had found a courtyard with splendid acoustics. She stood quietly in the shadows, tightly bundled up against the cold weather, and held a small umbrella to fend off the softly falling snow. Her voice was haunting and beautiful, and I. and I stood and listened until our fingers had turned stiff from cold and our noses were red and slightly runny. Though a short moment in time, I think we would both agree that her music was one of the most beautiful and memorable parts of this trip (and we actually heard her on the following night as well!) She had an amazing repertoire and a beautiful voice.
Near the end of our trip, we awoke on an absolutely stunning morning to find Krakow covered in a layer of magical white snow, which fell softly for most of the day while not actually impeding our travel whatsoever. It offered the perfect blend of beauty and accessibility.
We took a trip back to Podgorze (a district of Krakow just south of the Wisla river) where the Schindler museum is based. If you saw our photos from last year's trip, you may remember the square of chairs designed to commemorate the dissolution of the Polish ghetto (located in Podgorze), which looks even more stunning and tragic when covered by a layer of snow.
In the afternoon, I. and I re-climbed Wawel Hill to see the snow-covered city at dusk. I was hoping for a bit of a sunset, but it was still snowing very lightly, so we enjoyed the rise of the darkness, and I wandered around taking photographs while Isaac threw snowballs at the fire-breathing Smok Wawelski (who was not actually breathing fire that day) located at the base of the hill near the river.
We wandered back into town to hear the trumpeter play, and discovered a wonderful street market full of crafts and other delights, including a number of stalls selling cheese, which could be purchased in patterned blocks (as in the photograph below) or in small bite-size chunks, freshly heated with charcoal fires and served with cranberry on the side. These were delicious.
From Krakow, I headed back to Warsaw, from which my flight was scheduled to depart the following day. I booked a hotel two blocks from the one place in Warsaw I had wanted to visit most: Lazienki Krolewskie, an enormous park featuring splendid gardens and several palaces. My flight left at midday, so I spent the morning walking through the park and enjoying the sights and snow.
We began the month with one of the most glorious weekend days we have yet seen in Sheffield(or the United Kingdom, for that matter) and celebrated its warmth and sunshine by walking out to the edge of the Peak District. Along the way, we crossed paths with a couple from our new church, and enjoyed the chance to get to know them a bit better.
The Peak District is really gorgeous (I think) and quintessentially British landscape (except that there are no sheep! We did, however, pass a pasture of llamas).
Here's the view of Sheffield from the top of the tallest hill we climbed. The large-ish building jutting up from the treeline in the centre of the photograph is quite near our flat; we estimated that we walked about three miles to see this view.
And, because I mentioned our churchfellow, here's a quick snapshot of the doors of our church (new in the midst of the very old).
In the middle of the month, I.'s mother flew over for a visit, with the intention of getting to see Britain when it was not in the midst of a major winter storm. It has been a cold winter, and we still had snow on the ground for most of her visit, but we had fewer plumbing disasters (aside from a leak in our bathroom) and not quite as much actual ice. I. took her around some of the local attractions (mostly just pubs, I think) while I worked, and we all three visited lovely nearby York once my teaching obligations had ended.
York, however, was only the very tip of the iceberg (and was, in fact, a bit cold and icy during our adventure there).
On the first proper day of my Easter Holiday, we ventured to Nottingham for lunch and from there made our way to the airport, and, by default, to lovely Poland. We began this trip in Warsaw, which as a city has been heavily reconstructed since World War II but with the intention of making the facsimile as like the original as possible. We stayed in a fabulous flat in the centre of the Stare Miasto (Old Town), which was wonderful for the quaintness but not as splendid for transport links. Our big excursion was a trip to the Warsaw Uprising Museum, which is a quite well designed museum that holds a wealth of World War II artifacts (including an airplane).
I. and his mother just outside the Stare Miasto:
From Warsaw, we took a train to Krakow, where I. and I visited for our anniversary last March as well. Where Krakow last year was warm and sunny, we had beautiful snow and cold rain this year, but managed to amuse ourselves quite nicely regardless.
Among the "Greatest Hits of Poland" to which we introduced I's mother were the museums and cathedral on Wawel Hill. Wawel was a bit of a hike to climb, but the freshly fallen snow made it particularly lovely, so the uphill trek was well worth the effort.
One benefit of climbing Wawel is the stunning views it offers across Krakow.
I. was very keen to hear the trumpeter in St Mary's church again--you can't see the trumpet in this photo, but it was a beautiful evening regardless.
We spent a wonderful day walking around two street markets, and rested our feet in between with pierogies and afterwards with these delicious cream-filled delights from a nearby piekarnia (bakery).
Though we were very glad to have her along, I.'s mom was very aware that this was our anniversary trip and thus also very gracious about making sure I. and I had time alone together every day. On one evening, we ventured out to have a quiet dinner date at a wonderful Ukranian restaurant (which we had also visited last year) and stopped along the way to listen to an amazing singer who had found a courtyard with splendid acoustics. She stood quietly in the shadows, tightly bundled up against the cold weather, and held a small umbrella to fend off the softly falling snow. Her voice was haunting and beautiful, and I. and I stood and listened until our fingers had turned stiff from cold and our noses were red and slightly runny. Though a short moment in time, I think we would both agree that her music was one of the most beautiful and memorable parts of this trip (and we actually heard her on the following night as well!) She had an amazing repertoire and a beautiful voice.
Near the end of our trip, we awoke on an absolutely stunning morning to find Krakow covered in a layer of magical white snow, which fell softly for most of the day while not actually impeding our travel whatsoever. It offered the perfect blend of beauty and accessibility.
We took a trip back to Podgorze (a district of Krakow just south of the Wisla river) where the Schindler museum is based. If you saw our photos from last year's trip, you may remember the square of chairs designed to commemorate the dissolution of the Polish ghetto (located in Podgorze), which looks even more stunning and tragic when covered by a layer of snow.
In the afternoon, I. and I re-climbed Wawel Hill to see the snow-covered city at dusk. I was hoping for a bit of a sunset, but it was still snowing very lightly, so we enjoyed the rise of the darkness, and I wandered around taking photographs while Isaac threw snowballs at the fire-breathing Smok Wawelski (who was not actually breathing fire that day) located at the base of the hill near the river.
We wandered back into town to hear the trumpeter play, and discovered a wonderful street market full of crafts and other delights, including a number of stalls selling cheese, which could be purchased in patterned blocks (as in the photograph below) or in small bite-size chunks, freshly heated with charcoal fires and served with cranberry on the side. These were delicious.
On our last full day in Krakow, we dragged I.'s mom to the market, where we looked at all the pretty things before having a lovely lunch and watching several troupes of Polish musicians perform on a stage sponsored by a local radio station. It was so cold that the cellists' fingers were going numb (as did mine every time I stopped to take a photograph). On our afternoon walk, I. and I revisited the Wisla at sunset, which was beautiful but well below freezing.
After a mostly sleepless night punctuated by the generic thumpings of the nightclub located (unfortunately) just beneath our rental apartment, I. and his mother flew back to the UK early on Palm Sunday--at which point my travels were but half over!
Poland is still a very Catholic nation, and as I returned from the airport, I was treated to the delightful sight of a Palm Sunday procession traipsing and singing its way around the planty (a park that surrounds Krakow's Old Town). I've left this distant because posting photos of strangers on the internet is still a bit wierd, but you can see Jesus (in white) on the left side of the cluster, just behind some of the well-bundled children. The very tall flowery pole being held by the gentleman in the front is the Polish version of a palm frond; these come in all colours and sizes and were for sale nearly everywhere during our week in Krakow.
The palace below is beautiful, but not, perhaps, quite as spectacular in the winter; it has particular fame for its location, which is atop a large lake. Here the lake has been covered over with ice thick enough to bear human weight (I didn't try, but there were workers out chipping holes in the ice on the other side of the palace) which is beautiful but perhaps not quite as awe-inspiring as it might have been.
From Warsaw, I flew to Toronto, Canada, where I met my parents for a few days of sightseeing and family time. We kept things pretty quiet, but enjoyed, in particular, the Distillery District, which has been converted into a home for all sorts of arts, and features some nice culinary delights as well.
My father wanted to see the city from the top of the CN tower, so we travelled up the hundred-odd stories in a very fast elevator for a quick meal; the restaurant rotates within the tower and makes a full circuit every 72 minutes, so we spent quite a lot of our time staring out the window at the ever-changing city views before our eyes.
The real reason for my trip to Toronto was not actually to see my parents (that was a lovely benefit!) but to attend the forty-first annual Shakespeare Association of America meeting. I caught up with a number of wonderful colleagues and friends, and particularly enjoyed my seminar, which was on a topic near and dear to my heart (and thesis!). It was a delightful few days, and I learned a lot (as ever) and met some wonderful new people along the way.
I left Toronto on Easter, and had one of the worst airplane or hospital meals I have ever encountered as my Easter supper (and also, I think United is the last airline that charges for alcohol on transatlantic flights, which is irksome), but I had three seats to myself for my transatlantic flight, which made me slightly less annoyed about the supper and ridiculously overpriced wine (which I did not purchase, though it might have facilitated my sleep even further). I arrived in Britain on April Fool's Day, which was also a bank holiday (and thus all the more confusing!) and staggered through a day of exhaustion before succumbing to the delights of my own bed for the first time in more than two weeks.
It is good to be home. Happy Easter (He is Risen indeed!) and Happy April Fool's Day as well!
Saturday, 2 March 2013
A Quiet Centennial
Blogger tells me this is my 100th post on this blog, although this month has been a quiet one and I have few (if any) superb events to share. The fall term at Sheffield ends in late January, and our spring term thus opened with an impressive pile of marking from final essays and exams. I received my first full set of teaching evaluations and have spent a lot of time trying to guess the identity of the student who wrote me a glowing review. Beyond this, things have been pretty quiet.
One of our small treats to ourselves in February was a trip to our first Ice Hockey game, where our local team (the Sheffield Steelers) played a team from nearby Nottingham. Some friends who are huge ice hockey fans told us that UK ice hockey teams are mainly comprised of players who didn't quite make it in the US and Canadian tournaments (often because they are slightly smaller in build) so the game was really first-class (at least on the Steelers' part--they more or less trounced their opponents [5-2], which was great fun for us and everyone else in the Sheffield sections of the stands). Here's my handsome husband rooting for the Steelers (and delighted to be rooting for a sports team with orange colours).
I learned a few days ago that my last big application for something in the UK has fallen through, so it seems likely that I. and I will be returning to the States permanently at the end of this semester (hopefully with some sort of employment, although things are completely uncertain at the moment). We are living in a state of quiet anxiety and trying to relish each moment of this life that we have. God has been good to us thus far, and I don't want to waste the rest of this wonderful year in Sheffield panicking about a future I can't yet see.
So here we end the story of quiet February, which has dwindled away in the blink of an eye: a month of classes and teaching and grading and meetings, in a beautiful country and in a town I am beginning to enjoy more and more with each passing day.
(That's one of the sunrise views we have recently enjoyed from our living room window).
One of our small treats to ourselves in February was a trip to our first Ice Hockey game, where our local team (the Sheffield Steelers) played a team from nearby Nottingham. Some friends who are huge ice hockey fans told us that UK ice hockey teams are mainly comprised of players who didn't quite make it in the US and Canadian tournaments (often because they are slightly smaller in build) so the game was really first-class (at least on the Steelers' part--they more or less trounced their opponents [5-2], which was great fun for us and everyone else in the Sheffield sections of the stands). Here's my handsome husband rooting for the Steelers (and delighted to be rooting for a sports team with orange colours).
I learned a few days ago that my last big application for something in the UK has fallen through, so it seems likely that I. and I will be returning to the States permanently at the end of this semester (hopefully with some sort of employment, although things are completely uncertain at the moment). We are living in a state of quiet anxiety and trying to relish each moment of this life that we have. God has been good to us thus far, and I don't want to waste the rest of this wonderful year in Sheffield panicking about a future I can't yet see.
So here we end the story of quiet February, which has dwindled away in the blink of an eye: a month of classes and teaching and grading and meetings, in a beautiful country and in a town I am beginning to enjoy more and more with each passing day.
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