May We Sail Across the Seas?

April was a month of bright and sunny weather--the most distinctive and constant summer I've ever seen in Scotland--and May began with equal sunny warmth. Isaac and I took the excuse of a sunny late evening on our last Sunday in Scotland and ran down to the East Sands to build a sandcastle:

Here's Isaac, for size:

On the following Thursday, we had a barbecue on the only rainy evening in the last two weeks of our stay. Much cider was drunk, and we finally burnt up our Christmas tree. Isaac discovered a rock that explodes with the application of heat.

I spent my last two Scotland weeks packing, cleaning, having coffee dates with friends, and trying to write another large chunk of thesis. I now have, in rough draft, just under 50,000 words: I've passed the halfway point. In the middle of all this bustle, we took a morning off to visit the Farmer's Market and eat the delicious smoked fish available there:

We left England on a gloriously sunny day, sailing down the English channel as we passed small towns, long piers, other boats, and beautiful green trees:

We spent six days in a shroud of fog:

And we arrived in New York in a blessed pouring rain that somewhat managed to alleviate, if temporarily, the wretched humidity that has plagued us ever since the boat docked. Here's another boat in the rain at dawn:

Now, every day, I visit the building pictured below, in which are contained manifold delights: manuscripts, early printed books, and a few dozen texts I've needed to read for quite some while.

My research is going well, Isaac is meeting today about a volunteering opportunity in the neighbourhood in which we're staying, and we're both enjoying certain aspects of Americaland. Our plans for next year are still very much uncertain, but we'll keep you posted should that change.

Whan that Aprille forgotte hys showers

Despite the fact that I was away from St Andrews for the first ten days of April, I think it's still fair to say that this past April has been the occasion of the loveliest consistent weather I've ever seen in this fine town. In the past three weeks, it may have rained twice (and misted a few mornings and evenings). We've had some glorious morning mists but generally just an abundance of sun and a great old blossoming of flowers. Of course, the glorious weather has also provided my life with a terrific excuse to get complicated and busy, so I've been indoors a great deal.

When last I blogged, I was researching happily in the British Library. My friend R. very generously allowed me to stay with her, which was lovely. I read several wonderful books and even had a few opportunities to relax amid the bustle of research. On mornings when I arrived at the British Library before it opened, I had the distinct pleasure of sipping a cup of coffee, eating a pastry, and reading the free London Metro newspaper.

When the great British Library proved insufficient, I was able to take a journey to the lovely old Westminster Abbey, whose archives hold one of the manuscripts that will figure prominently in the eventual first chapter of my thesis. Because the Abbey has featured so prominently in the news lately, here's a photo of the main visitor doors (which I didn't use on this trip, as they are for paying guests only).

Because all my libraries were closed on Sunday, and because it was Mother's Day in the UK, and because R. is my academic daughter via a long and complex process that took place during my M.Litt year, she and I had a day out on the Sunday to do something new, exciting, and (in the eyes of every British person to whom I've relayed this since then) completely mad. We rose at the crack of dawn, took the train to lovely Dover (of White Cliffs fame), and then took the ferry to Calais, France (my first chance to set foot in that country).

Unbeknownst to R. and I, Calais is shut down tight on a Sunday, so we amused ourselves by walking around and discussing architecture, getting lost, buying wine and cheese, drinking cocktails in a shrine to a French singer (possibly Dalida), and eating French delicacies such as un eclair and a "panini," as the sandwich is mistakenly called in Britain and France alike.

After our French adventure, I made my way to Nottingham, a large central town near both Birmingham and Kegworth. Nottingham was notable for its water and lovely scenery, and had perhaps the best restaurant I've eaten at in a very long time.
Here's a graveyard:

And here my new favourite restaurant. Should you ever be in Nottingham, eat here:

After two days in Nottingham, and for no particular reason save convenience of travel, I spent an unfortunate night in York (a city I love, in a bed and breakfast to which I shall never return). On my morning in York, I finally had a chance to walk along the city walls (an experience forbidden during our first trip to York, when the wall path around the city was icy).

I subsequently took a train further North, where after two very long weeks away I met my husband in lovely Durham, where we spent two weeks in the Norman wing (named after the 11th century civilisation, rather than an individual of the same name) of a very old castle.
The view from our room:

Since we returned to our little ancient town, things have been a bit less exciting. I've written another substantial chunk of eventual thesis, Isaac has finished work for the Chemistry department, and we've spent most of our free time trying to soak up sunshine, culture, and views of the beautiful sea.
We attended a ball:

We sipped (local-brewed) cider on the beach:

We celebrated the Resurrection looking out over the North Site in the ruins of a church in which people have been celebrating Easter for more than a thousand years:

And we revisited the Rock and Spindle (as ever) to enjoy the lovely sea and one of our favourite places on earth:

May thus far has been busy and a little hectic, but the beautiful weather has continued, and I love Scotland more than ever, if that's possible.

Three countries, two students, one blog post

March has been a busy travel month. On the last day of February, Isaac headed back to The Homeland, and I am--on the last day of this month--currently back at the Great Repository of Books located in central London:

[This is an old photo, and one that I've used on this blog before, but, really, the British Library doesn't change much from month to month or even year to year].

I'm finally in the really fun stage of my thesis--not that the past eighteen months of work haven't been delightful, rewarding, and just plain wonderful--and I've jumped back into the world of seventeenth-century manuscripts. I'm loving this, and the knowledge that I have about six months of dedicated manuscript research awaiting me is unutterably exciting. Today I'm reading two poetical manuscript miscellanies from the 1620s-30s, and have been enjoying similar tomes all week.

And, well, not to bore you all with the intricacies of seventeenth-century secretary hand and poetic revision, in between Isaac's trip to Amerikaland and my brief and current journey to England (a very-early-morning train adventure of this past Monday), we've also recently celebrated Pi Day.

For our Pi Day festivities, Isaac took me to a wonderful little town called Blair Atholl, just a few hours' train ride from St Andrews, where we enjoyed the snow-covered hills . . .

. . . walked along forest creeks and snowdrop paths . . .

. . . enjoyed some random decorations . . .

. . . and sampled local blended whisky (as well as some local beers, not pictured, from a charming one-man microbrewery).

We also read books by the fireside, wandered around the outside of a castle, tried on lovely woolen garments, walked across the River Tilt, ate breakfast in an enormous old baronial hall with stuffed hunting trophies on the walls, played puzzle games in a pub (near another roaring fire), and took several lovely walks. It was a delightful holiday.

Inside, Outside, Upside-Downside

INSIDE
From 30 January to 27 February (four consecutive weeks), neither Isaac nor I ventured more than one mile from our home. I'm not sure that I have ever attained this feat before in my life, and I'm not sure that I ever wish to do so again, but it has made me think a lot about the luxuries I enjoy and take for granted, such as travel and hiking (neither of which we did in January, obviously).

UPSIDE-DOWNSIDE
However, perhaps the world (yeah, the same one that hosts the British Open Golf Championship here every few years) decided we were too caught up in the "bubble," as St Andrews is occasionally called, because on the last Friday of the month, some figuratively important people came to town.

Their visit caused many exciting things:
Our lovely quad was off limits for an entire week.
Many, many streets were blocked off for a day and a half.
Policemen patrolled every street quite regularly for at least the day before they arrived.

Here are some policemen guarding the street from the evil schoolchildren:

And the snipers atop the chapel tower:

And the protestor with his sign (just outside the building where I work):

And the (presumably) future queen of the British Isles, though with the life spans of monarchs these days she probably has a good long time to wait:

And a few of my friends hanging out the windows of our office building:

OUTSIDE
ON the next-to-last day of the month, we finally escaped lovely but sometimes claustrophobic St Andrews and went to Edinburgh. There we enjoyed a relaxed and ambling sort of day: we checked into our hotel (with a proper old-fashioned four-poster bed), then had lunch at one of my favourite places in the world, then strolled around the city till we were ready for afternoon coffee, and then enjoyed the sun set.

Here's our view over the Firth of Forth as we sipped our coffee:

And this is the sunset, reflected in the amazing shop windows set up at Harvey Nichols. (The hammer in the latter one is pretty awesome, being made entirely out of nails and hammered-flat heads of nails).

. . . and that's about all for now, folks.

January Amblings

With the hustle and bustle of Christmas past, I spent a large part of January in England, hopping first of all on a train (really, three trains) to Oxford, where I stayed in Wadham College whilst attending a conference hosted by the British Society for Eighteenth Century Studies. Highlights of the stay included accidentally having a private and elegant breakfast on my first morning at Wadham, spending the first free morning of the conference shopping(!) at the five-story Waterstones that is around the corner from the college in which I was staying, receiving wonderful feedback on my paper, meeting the author of one of the most important books cited in my third thesis chapter, and enjoying a burrito from the finest burrito shop in Oxford.
Here's the main quad of Wadham College:

Perhaps the least delightful part of my Oxford trip was the grueling journey home, which took more than ten hours (once upon a time, an express train from Leuchars to St Andrews took just over six, though that journey has been discontinued). My first trains were delayed, causing me to miss connections, and by the time I'd reached Carlisle, a station remarkably without telephone facilities, it was sleeting heavily--and my ensuing wait of three quarters of an hour was too short for supper and too long for warmth. Alas. However, I arrived home safely, and Isaac had washed the dishes of his bachelor week in celebration of my return.
Here's Carlisle:

More recently, I attended another conference, this one in Manchester, a city I'd never visited and for which I had fairly low expectations (it's often compared to Birmingham). All anti-Birmingham prejudices aside, I had a wonderful time, spending my first day reading old books in the John Rylands library of Manchester University and the two subsequent days attending a conference held on the grounds of Chetham's, a music school which (more importantly) boasts the oldest public library in the United Kingdom. I gave my conference paper in a Tudor kitchen, enjoyed conference lunches in a Baronial hall, and had this beautiful view upon exiting the building after the conference concluded:

A particular highlight of my stay in Manchester was the wonderful hospitality provided by one of my friends (a fellow PhD student at St A's) and her wonderful parents, who treated me like royalty for my entire trip. A particularly amazing highlight of this was watching them prepare proper Yorkshire Puddings for our last supper. Here they are, fully expanded in the oven:

A happy time.

DPP 24: Potato Peelings

Leek and potato soup.

DPP 23: The Light of the Church

As part of our life in our cold little flat here, Isaac and I have some locking and unlocking duties at the church that owns the property. A single oil lamp burns at the front of the church all week long, and a more modern light is kept on in the back of the church whenever it's open to the public (during daylight hours most days). This lamp is off to the side of the church, near the rooms in which the clergy and other servers prepare for services, but it is switched on only occasionally. I love the way the light cascades down the steps.