summer of '71 part 2 . . .

Our actual stay at St. Hilda's college is a jumble . . . shards of memories. Our required reading had been completed prior to arrival . . . well except for James Joyce's Ulysses, which none of us managed to wade all the way through . . . our professor merely accompanied us to the British lectures. While those studying history were bogged down in homework, our man, bless his heart, announced that our time would be much better spent absorbing the culture of the area. Hooray! The classes were dry to say the least and difficult to follow in that British humor differed so vastly from our own that while the bulk of the class was tittering away, we were looking at each other in confusion.

But there was punting to be done . . . we really should have known what a weir was prior to our first boating escapade: frantic voices urging us back from the edge . . . afternoons spent in Blackwell's booksellers, and of course the requisite pub crawling. One particular odd afternoon found six of us round a table. A German, a Spaniard, a French girl, Cyndee and I and a Dutch lad. The German wanted to chat but since neither of us spoke the others language, we made do with me chatting brokenly in Spanish to the Spaniard who in turn spoke to the Dutchman, who translated to the German. Convoluted at best I was never sure what I said ever made it to his ear in any semblance of it's original meaning or if it was more like an old fashioned game of 'telephone'?

There were side trips to Stone Henge,

fairy rings, Salisbury Cathedral and Anne Hathaway's cottage.



The local outdoor food markets were particularly fascinating. Refrigeration being at a minimum, shopping was done everyday. Each vendor posted an impaled beast on a stick by way of advertising his wares. We soon learned to skirt the swine booths, preferring our Boars to be names of pubs and confined our visits in general to the early morning hours before the air became rank with aromas left better unidentified. Meals at St. Hilda's were unique unto themselves. Most every thing was served under a crust, be it the dreaded Steak and Kidney Pie, or the most delicious of fruit tarts. Four minute eggs were the call to breakfast as were rashers of Canadian bacon . . . it was bluntly, an adjustment. We became fast aficionados of Wimpy burgers or better yet . . . the delightful fish: Plaice . . .wrapped accommodatingly enough in newspaper atop a handful of chips . . er . . . fries.

All and all we made it through the six week course, stashed our suitcases once again and headed west to Wales . . .

OK, so this is not Wales, but I thought I would stick in a shot of me, in my Paddington Bear T-shirt, sitting in the Scottish Heather.

Ah, to be 21 again.

I love that Katie lets me take dozens of photos of her but can you tell by the look on her face, ENOUGH MOM!!!!


Credits: Paperbag Studios just released another new kit called Merry Love, just in time for Valentines Day. Everything is from that kit except for the Dearest tag which came from her Show The Love elements pack.


The 9TS took us out to dinner at one of our favorite dives along the ocean. Barely more than a shack ready to collapse into the sea . . . it has really good spiced shrimp.

hummmm . . .

The other day while in my bedroom, I heard a rather loud thwump. With three cats running around like rocket ships out of control careening under, over and around the bed at mach3, I really didn't pay too much attention, until I happened to look out the window later that day. A poor flicker must have thought he could fly through the glass. His poor little body lay on the lower roof.

To access that section of roof, one has two options. The first is to haul out the ladder and scurry over it's upper rung onto the eave. I do not do 'scurry' nor do I do heights. The other is to remove the screen, open the window and crawl out onto the eight foot ledge. While better than than door #1, it is not something I would rush to do, so the poor little Flicker laid there for a couple of more days.

Finally, I decided he needed a decent burial and I'd opted to go through the window. To my surprise, he was gone. Now since there was absolutely no question that he met his demise, and the 9TS cannot navigate much of anything with a bandage the size of a boxing glove, it kind of makes you wonder who or what was scampering around outside my window, one story up. I'm guessing since Bru met nose to nose with an errant teenage coon out that same window one night last year, to tune of much howling and caterwauling, that another coon was probably the culprit. The access is a scraggly old tree that sits too close to the house that we keep pruned to a spindly wisp. Apparently not wispy enough. It has to go. I am tired of Rocky raccoon and his nocturnal visits. And yes, I am sticking to the coon version, lest something even less desirable has been to call. Yikes!

Roben-Marie over at Paperbag Studios, released a new digi paper pack today so I had to get my fingers on it and play. The papers are so gorgeous that they really don't require much in the way of added elements. See what I mean?


All I added was one of her Flourish Circle Frames, one of her grungy borders, a quote and a photo. Amazing papers!!!

survival . . .

The 9TS is a little worse for the wear. His mega doses of antibiotics along with the pain meds have messed up his system royally. He is dragging big time. Tomorrow will be a better day.

All that fuss about the dentist and it was a piece of cake. In two weeks I get the permanent cap and am good to go. Geesh, all that perfectly good whining gone to waste. Sigh.

Now on to the good stuff. Nancy, Joan and I survived our first yoga class. It's a good thing we paid up front and are locked in. That makes for a great incentive to return. Not that it was bad. I actually had a pretty good time ommming and deep breathing . . . but visions of this 60 old woman rocking back on her mat until her butt is saluting the ceiling and her toes are touching the floor behind her head is not pretty, not to mention it required the use of muscles I had forgotten I had. I also discovered while standing in 'tree' pose that were I the real McCoy, I would be lying prone on the forest floor. Guide wires or a sky hook should have been minimum requirements along with the mat and towel. My favorite part, of course, was the cool down. Lying on the mat, relaxing to the music, wondering if I momentarily snored. Happily, I did not wear my glasses so if the rest of the class heard and was staring, I was blissfully unaware. Next week, we have decided to treat ourselves to lunch afterwards . . . food for both the soul and the tummy. Thank you Joan and Nancy for taking this trip with me.

tomorrow . . .

is going to be a busy day. They have finally decided my tooth has settled down enough to cap. Ugh. So think nice thoughts for me come 10:3o. I have a really nice dentist but he is still an evil barbarian with a battery of wicked devices and a maniacal cackle. When it comes to my teeth, I am still a major . . . bawk . . bawk . . . chicken heart . . . insert flying feathers spewing in all directions . . . I have nightmares about drills and teeth being pulled with pliers and other hideous scenarios. Not good. Sigh.

Then the 9TS comes home from an appointment announcing he is scheduled for surgery on his thumb the same morning. Until I understand what he is saying I am thinking will he now have to be referred to as the 9TS OR the 9FS. Which would I choose? Would that make him an 18DS (digit sloth)? WOW! OK, I so got a little carried away. He is just getting a bone spur removed and will still be able to play the concert piano as well as he ever could . . . . or couldn't as the case may be.

So tomorrow, I will run him down to the hospital, come back up and throw myself on the mercy of Oh Dreaded One, whimpering the entire time. His brother will pick him up when they are done with him and drive him home. Together we can moan and groan, compare notes and vie for the lion's share of the attention. We are such wimps! Good thing my yoga class starts the next day and I can get some calming ju ju.

down to the sea . . .

just playing with a little typography on this one . . . .


Credits: Paper by Vinnie Pearce


Credits: Beauty paper and alpha from Paperbag Studios, Ornaments from PBS as well. I kidnapped the quote from the internet but it hadn't any credits.

OK, so we seem to have a theme running here.

Credits: Epoxy Alpha and paper from Paperbag Studios.