Somerset

I'm having a difficult time figuring out the new blogger set up so these photo's are in opposite order of what I wanted but I don't care enough to redo them. I'm sure you won't mind. 

A friend and I went for a day trip yesterday, down through areas of Somerset (Somerset, like Gloucestershire, are like counties in the US). We went for a hike, to the city of Wells, drove through Cheddar Gorge and then to a henge circle. By the time we got to Cheddar Gorge and the henge circle it was raining cats and dogs so we weren't able to get out and hike around. Hence no photo's. But if you've ever traveled through Southern MO and the Ozark Mtns you'll have a good idea of what the gorge looked like. It was gorge-ous.  

Wells is a beautiful 'city' (roughly 12,000 residents) and if any of my American friends come to visit this would be my top place to take you. There is an enormous cathedral that originates 1180 (that I don't currently have a photo to attach. It's too big and my camera is too crap. But you can google it. :) ) and then there is the Bishop's palace. It gives you a good sense of just how much power the clergy had in these times. 

This is a moat and wall surrounding the Bishop's palace.

 

 This is inside the grounds of the palace, and one of the walls along side the back moat. 

 The picture below is the Bishop's palace.

 This is the High Street. I think every town (city) in England has a High Street. It's the main commerce street. You can see the top of the cathedral in the background and can see that the cathedral and palace are basically in the center of the town.

This is a residential street that leads to the cathedral. I think I could have taken a picture at every single dwelling. Again, you can see the top of the cathedral in the background. 

 This is the same street from the view near the cathedral.

 Lavender and a wooden gate leading to a dwelling.

 Probably my favorite photo of 2012 so far. I just love how much lavender there is in England.

 There are these fund raiser swans all around the city. I was particularly taken with the dragon swan and thought it was the most clever design.

 So prior to us getting to the city of Wells, we had gone for a hike. Somewhere. I don't know where. I got in the car. He drove. I got out when he said we'd arrived. This is a monster who lives in the woods. I guess once upon a time he was fully developed but he's lost some of his twigs. The photo doesn't do it justice.

 My friend. Sorry readers. This isn't his blog so his face doesn't get put out there on the world wide web. :)

 

This was our view during lunch atop the cliff. It's easier to capture the beauty of a building than the landscape, but as the eye could see, it was more lovely than building with lavender. 

Summer Solstice

Every Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, I think, okay, the day's start getting longer from now. I can endure. Spring and early summer comes, the days are longer, there is warmth in the air, but usually not so hot as to singe your lungs on a deep inhale. The spring frogs have come out but the drone of the summer locusts haven't burrowed out of a tree yet.

Then comes the Summer Solstice. I feel a little sad that the days will start to get shorter now. Even though there is ample heat to come in July and August (and sometimes September), I'm losing a little sunshine every day. It's all downhill from here. Some of you know that I have planned to pass away at sunset of the Summer Solstice of my 120th year. I want to go out on my perfect day.

This was the American me. When season's had definition and the shortest day and the longest day weren't almost polar opposites. The longer days here in England are excessive but still damp and cool. It's like March but with what seems like 24 hours of sunlight. There's no cooling in the night from the excessive heat to tell me the time has changed. There is no setting of the sun. Just the same same. I'm not filled with despair but nor am I filled with joy. Now I'm actually looking forward to peak and descent from the Summer Solstice just so the days will even out again. I've decided that if I stay in England I'll have to rethink my passing away date and have decided maybe the Vernal (Spring) Equinox will be ideal. Many of the spring flowers have bloomed, little lambs are in the field, and day and evening are equal. So if I stay in England, my new expiration date will be the sunset of the Vernal Equinox of my 120th year. I like to have these things planned out.

Tewkesbury

We've had a four day holiday this weekend. It was a combination of the May bank holiday (I don't know what it's for - just time off) and an extra day for the Jubilation for the Queen's 60th anniversary. I went to a BBQ on Sunday at the local church around the corner. They must have thought I was the rudest person ever since I didn't partake in the toast (it was champagne) and I didn't sing along to the National Anthem (which I only know as My Country Tis of Thee and I don't think they'd much appreciate me singing those lyrics!)

Today my friend Sarah and I hopped on the bus and went to Tewkesbury. Tewkesbury is one of the still existing Medieval towns, unfortunately I didn't get any photo's of the town itself. The weather wasn't very cooperative for sight seeing and photo ops.

This is the Abbey. It dates back to the 11th century. And yes, the hair quickly got put into braids. It was a bit windy...

 The grounds were beautiful. Even on such a cold and wet day we loved the place. Sarah and I both end of going to places alone and never have anyone to take photo's of us touring places so we were a bit like kids on a field trip taking photo's of each other on our respective cameras.

 My camera is lame and won't take non-blurry photo's indoors. I have a few ultra-blurry photo's that I didn't post.

 A nook with lovely smelling flowers.

This house had a funny plaque that said "In 1706 nothing exciting happened here". I'm sure the tenants get tired of tourist thinking that every single building has historic significance. I just thought it was a nice looking passage way.

 This was another passageway that led into an amazing bookstore where we spent hours looking at surveyor maps and leather bound tomes. I managed to find a quaintly illustrated James Herriot book for £2.50. Of course the large book became heavier and heavier as the day went on...

 Here is the Back of Avon. The swan was swimming towards us and I was hoping to get a nice profile of the swan with the bridge, willows, and narrowboats, but shortly after I took this a few people walked onto the bridge and started feeding the ducks and swans. I had nothing to offer.

This is an old flour mill on the river way. There were several old abandon manufacturing buildings here. It reminded me of Gaskill's North & South. 

 

Next time I go I'll get a few pictures of the town for those interested in seeing a classic Medieval town. 

Bristol

I took a trip to Bristol yesterday. If you are hoping for a post with lots of photo's of the bustling city, you won't find them here. I wanted to go to the zoo. I love zoo's. But I also wanted to go on a 2nd date with a man I fancy and the zoo in Bristol was the best pretense I could find to inviting him on a day out. I'm not going in to all the date details on my blog (that's what my private journal is for) but the most basic details are these:

I took a train from Cheltenham to Bristol (my first train ride). We walked, taking a scenic route to the zoo, he acting as tour guide. We walked and talked and walked and talked, we went to the zoo, we had dinner, we went up a tower, we saw other things, we walked some more, we watched a swan stalk a duck. I managed to miss the last train to Cheltenham but was able to secure a ride from a friend from Gloucester. It was perfect. The only thing I could have asked for was warmer weather, but then again, perhaps I should have been more sensible in dressing myself for the day (that turned into a night).

One of the first places we were going to see was the church in the background. It was magnificent from the outside, but a wedding was being held so we couldn't go inside. The river and it's activity on both sides of the bank reminded me of Boston though you don't see as many boats along the Charles.





I loved the pigeons and cloths pins that looked like little birds.




We followed the river out of town, towards the Clifton suspension bridge. I loved the texture and contrast of the old road, or railroad path, that is falling in decay, against the backdrop of the river.



There is a long winding paved foot path that leads to the bridge. It reminded me of a walking version of the road to Hana in Maui. We walked across the bridge and back, looking out across the city, then walked up the hill behind it. I'm not sure we could have gotten much higher in Bristol. It was a cloudy day, but there was a patch of sunlight out in the far pastures.


Towards dusk we walked past this church that had been bombed during WWII. There was a beautiful little herb garden on the grounds and I felt a small lump in my throat looking at the church.

And to end this non-tour of Bristol, we really did go to the zoo. The lemur habitat is open and the lemur's very brave. Their fur is so soft and you want to reach out and touch them, but as we walked past one of the employee's in the enclosure we noticed his hand wrapped in bandages. Lemur's are not pets. But they are cute.


And me. He was the one who suggested have the photo taken. How did he know I would want it? Not to worry, I didn't have my photo taken as every animal in the zoo.

Mom

Lillie Elsie Gournay Ziolkowski - 1919 - 2012

Every family calls the grandparents differnt names. In the South mother and father are Mamma and Daddy and for us, my mother's parents were Mom & Papa. The name was probably even more fitting as there were times that Mom was closer to being a mother to us than my own mother. We moved a lot in my early years; Mom & Papa were always home base. I was more comfortable in their house than any other house we lived in. My best and worst memories were created in that house. Most things that are great about me, and all things that are bad about me, were formed there. The smell of coffee, musty libraries, fig trees and tiger lilies, and the sound of chirping frogs and the click of flying insects hitting a screen door bring me back to that house.

Mom passed away today. It had been a long time since I last spoke with her. A long time being close to 20 years. Some who read this blog know what my family past is. For those who aren't you'll have to be left wondering. But she passed away today. In Lousiana where what little roots I have lie. I am in England. I always thought she would be the one person I would go back to say good-bye to. But it couldn't happen. And maybe I'm a little bit relieved.

I'm sad for my brother because I think he'll feel sorrow the most. I'm sad because it's another door to my past that has been closed for good. But I think at the very base of it, I'm sad for things that I never had. She was a person who lived and died, just as we all will live and die, but there are no familial heart strings and turmoil to be played on. I'm sad because I'm not sad enough.

I spent many late nights saying my prayers with her, counting the beads on my delicate blue glass beaded rosary. Tonight my prayers are that she finds peace in the afterlife to come.

Criticism

No one likes to be criticised. Even the most 'constructive' criticism can feel like a punch in the gut.

There are some careers where the person's work is criticised by the the armchair public. Acting, music, writing, and politics come to mind. In 'real world' careers, those that have hierarchical management structures, employees can be criticised on specific work, but an annual review which involves criticism is almost always mandatory. Some employee / employer relationships manage this process better than others, but no employee actually enjoys it. And for good reason. Even at it's best, it tends to be a list of subjective items to change without any direction on how to change it, how to measure if it's been changed, and often times, why it's beneficial to the employee/team/manager/organization. This form of criticism comes across more like a parent telling an eight year old child what to do.

I'm now in the world of academia where criticism is an on-going part of any piece of work you do. At first I dreaded this process having had very painful and unproductive experiences with the 'real world' types of criticism. And I'm not going to lie, the first six months of feedback was very painful, but now, I love getting a paper back with line upon line of feedback, corrections and suggestions. I don't come away from it feeling stupid or ridiculed or rejected but instead feel smarter and more capable and reassured that I do know what I'm doing.

I think this is the kind of criticism that employers in the 'real world' want to have but lack the skills to achieve it. Or maybe it's a sign that I am finally in the right career for me.

Signing-off

No, don't worry, I'm not signing-off blogging. (though my lack of blogging on a regular basis may have lead you to think this.) This blog post is about signing-off email.

In the States, typical professional and semi-professional email is generally signed-off as:

Thank you, Sincerely, and Thanks! (And if I know you well, to be followed by something silly like Heidi Hamburglar Hughes.)

Here in the UK, most of the email I recieve from colleagues ends:
With Regards, Best Wishes, All the Best, and Cheers.

Cheers seems to me to equal in tone and relationship as Thanks. I like it. I'll use it with people that I've exchanged more than one email with.

With Regards, Best Wishes and All the Best? The tone of these sound more like 'up yours'.

A recent email started with 'Hi Heidi' (which if I'm to understand correctly is a very American and overly friendly salutation) and ended with 'All the Best'. So are you telling me in a very friendly way to get bent?

Let me say, that if I can't figure out the tone and meaning of email sign-off, I'm a bit worried about spending two years trying to interpret UK employees in their daily work-place behavior.

Happy Birthday

Unless there is a gourmet dinner and a decadent cake made by my friend Charles, I'm not really much for celebrating my birthday. There have been some years, pre-facebook era, where I've tried to fly under the radar come birthday time.

Yesterday was my birthday. No fun plans were on my calendar and this post is not going to be about how an awesome surprise was thrown for me. But the day was a flurry of academic activity and a tasty zemon lest cake.

My mock-viva presentation was yesterday. We're not sure that I will have to do a viva but I am interested in presenting my research at a conference so this was good practice. I was grilled. The questions were out of left field and the other attending research students are now good and frightened about having to give a presentation in the future. But several times the interrogators, I mean panel, suggested the research only needed a few minor adjustments and it would be ready for conferences. I'm excited. They're excited.

And then I was handed a class to teach for this term. It was very sudden. As in, I got to my research office yesterday morning, turned on my computer, got a phone call from the head of the department, ran up to his office, he gave me a 10 minute explanation about why the class is being run this term, told me to meet with my supervisor who moderates the course, and then to email him the module guideline (syllabus for you American readers) by the end of the day. Before 5:00 p.m. I had sent my first email to my first set of students and Viola, I am a lecturer.

The funny thing about my life is that I have strange and sudden things handed to me, but yet, I know they aren't 'just' handed to me because I've been preparing, and researching, and running calculations, and making spreadsheets about how, where, and what of my future. I've run at least a dozen different scenarios to catch all the 'what-if's'. This wasn't one of the scenario's I had planned for, but I am prepared. And so very excited.

I'll be teaching Research Methods. I think every lecturer on campus is happy that they will not have to be teaching any of the assignments this term, but I can't think of a better class to teach. I LOVE Research Methods.

We'll see how I fare in ten weeks.

One Year

Once upon a time I had a bicycle accident. I broke my arm and was in a series of casts for six months. I was cast free for two months when one cold icy day in Boston I slipped on the ice covered cobblestones of Harvard Square. Naturally, when falling on ice, I used my hands to catch myself and felt tension and pressure in my very unflexible wrist. Xrays and MRI's did not show any new break but the doctors felt the need to put me back in a cast for six weeks "to make sure".

The new cast lasted a week. It took three days of constant sawing with a steak knife, cutting little pieces off at a time, before I was free. After six months, and no detectable injury, I couldn't endure another six weeks of being bound.

Thursday will be my one year anniversary here in the UK. I have loved almost every single day. England is a beautiful country and I can't believe I've been lucky enough to live here and to do my graduate degree. I've worked hard during my Master's, rarely taking any breaks. The Master's was recently submitted and now I'm on to the PhD, which is a little less time and space restrictive.

I will be doing my field research in the States, and suddenly, my living conditions have become like the six week cast. Once endurable because of the need to be here, I am claustrophobic and eager to move on now that the time has come to do so. A year is a long time for me to be in any one place, but I live in one room and yet have no privacy. I can only afford weekly groceries, but even if I had money to spare, material goods like proper fitting running shoes don't exist here. I haven't the money to travel and see the sights, and at the same time work odd unstructured hours so I wouldn't have multiple days off to go far anyway.

I have no idea when or where my next stop will be but I'm anxious to get there.

Poop

Have you ever read the book Everyone Poops by Taro Gomi? It's a funny little book about how everyone, animals and humans poop. The illustrations try to capture the different piles left by different animals. I never really understood the boy though. He's running away naked and poop is flinging all behind him.

As I don't have any children, talking about poop is not a common occurrence for me, but part of living in a different culture is dealing with bathroom issues. I'm not living in a 3rd world country where I have to dig a latrine, but relieving ones self is different here.

First, vernacular: Americans say "I'm going to the rest room" or 'bathroom' which could mean that you're relieving yourself, or freshening up, or snooping through someone's medicine cabinet. It gives the other members of the party something to think about other than you doing number one or number two. Here, most people say "I have to go to the toilette" which seems direct and graphic and gives the American mind no alternative choices to think about what is going on behind the closed door.

Second, flushing: All toilette's are designed to flush with a little pressure (for pee) or a lot of pressure (for poop). In most public places, the highest pressure doesn't seem to flush even all the pee. Don't poop in public restrooms.

Third, bowl design: Toilette design is not universal. I never spent much time looking inside an American toilette bowl, but I noticed that British toilette's have a tendency to retain stuff in a way that I never noticed in America. It comes down to the inside back wall is sloped more than an American commode. I'm not sure what purpose the design is for - maybe cutting down on splash - but it results in flushing with the high pressure, waiting for the tank to re-fill and flushing again.

So now you all know about pooping in the UK. I'm sure you're glad there are no pictures to accompany this post.

3rd quarter update

We are at the end of September and entering the final stages of my Masters of Research programme. To make sure that I am keeping up with my New Year's Resolution I have completed the following so far this year:

MRes
Four modules/papers completed

MBA
Dissertation completed

Personal Creative Writing
Novel - three complete drafts. Now working on fourth.
Essay - two essays completed

Not too bad so far. Now for the rest of this year I have to collect data from a bunch of businesses, analyze the data, and write a modest size (25,000 wrds) dissertation and write a proposal for my PhD. Okay, a little more work to do. But getting there.

And that damn novel isn't going to be ready to send out by the end of the year. Hoping that the fourth draft will smooth away a lot of rough places. Maybe the 6th draft will be the one?

Building Blocks

Blocks are nice and solid. They are the foundation of buildings, learning, and measurement. In even the most unsquare of cities (Boston, I'm talking to you) they measure distance. In every city in America, so many blocks equal a mile. It's seven large blocks in Salt Lake City. Some sources say it's twenty (20??) in New York City. Regardless of how many blocks it takes to make a mile, American's know that they can say "Such-n-Such is three blocks away" and we all know what is meant.

Here in Cheltenham (I don't know if this applies to all of the UK) people do not use blocks as a measurement. I haven't actually figured out exactly what they use. Mostly it's something like "It's close to the end of the upper High Street." or "Go towards Montpellier". The town is small enough that once you've lived here long enough that seems to work. But try giving directions to out-of-towners.

We could use time. "It takes 10 minutes to get to point B" but I'm a fast walker so do I bump up the minutes for average walkers? And I don't think that many people have a very good internal sense of time. Are you talking as you walk? Are you browsing at store fronts along the way? Are you rewriting your thesis paper?

Many listen to music as they walk. Could we use songs as measurement? It takes four songs to get to the bookstore. Except I listen to mostly classical. It takes one good concerto for me to get from my house to the Park Campus.

I guess the only real solution is just to get a map.

Facebook Society is Weird

I worked at the tea room today. My co-workers and the owner seem to like me quite a lot and we all had a good day talking. Our Wednesday Weight Watcher women came in and I chatted with the one about her new puppy.

Walking home from the grocery store after work, the beep beep of a horn caught my attention. It was the Elders and a passenger and were waving to say "hello"!

Walking up the drive to our terrace complex, one of my neighbors was outside, having just got home from her daughter's wedding in Jamaica. My short-term lease is coming to a close and she was excited that I was still living here. We chatted for a while about the Jamaican adventures.

I checked my voice mail an hour ago (I never bring my cell phone anywhere with me.) and I had a message from a friend from church. Just calling to see if I wanted to get together during the day to hang out.

The day was ending with me feeling pretty happy that people like me. Then I noticed that I lost two Facebook 'friends'.

Now, I've defriended a time or too. Like the guy that friended me the morning after meeting him at a party and I wanted to see if he was someone that might be of interest. He wasn't and a month later I defriended him. And I've been defriended for somewhat justified reasons. I also have some people who refuse to be my 'friend' but there's a history and I get it. But I'm kind of surprised by the two who recently defriended me. The one, we are acquaintances of the large body of Boston network. While not knowing each other on a deep level, there also shouldn't be any animosity towards one another. I mean, I know I'm difficult, but I usually do know when someone doesn't care for me. And the other was a recent co-worker that again, I thought we were on friendly terms.

But the silly thing is, I have real life people who interacted with me today, and for the past eight months, that do like me. They are a part of my real breathing and kicking life. The other two people, as nice as they are, aren't really a part of any aspect of my life. Just my past, and recently virtual life. So should it really bother me all that much? Probably not. But it does.

People are weird. I am weir. Facebook is weird.

My Country Tis of Thee

I've tried to avoid most media coverage on this 10th anniversary of 9/11 but here I find myself posting my own blog about it. I can't believe that is has already been ten years. Though it doesn't seem like it just happened yesterday, it does seem like it was just a year ago or so. Throughout the past century, I think most American's remember where they were and what they were doing when a national event occurred; The bombing of Pearl Harbor, the assassination of JFK, and for our generation, 9/11.

I had been in Washington D.C. that weekend and had flown home to Boston on the evening of the 10th. The next morning I drove to my office out in Marlborough, an hour and half outside of Boston. We were all working when someone came running into our office, shouting about a plane hitting the first tower. What an amazing and horrific accident we all thought and rushed into the conference room to turn on the television.

As the events quickly unfolded we were told to stay in Marlborough until cleared to go home. No one new if Boston was also going to be attacked and it was safer to stay where we were. By mid-day we were told to go home. Directly home. Emotions didn't hit until driving through the toll booths along the Mass Pike. The green arrows were on all ports and the collectors were waving people through, tears in most eyes. People needed to get through as quickly as possible. Safety and speed was more important than revenue.

That afternoon, as my roommate and I were glued to our television set, the first of several military aircraft went zooming close over head. The first one evoked fear as we knew that all planes were supposed to be grounded. The next several fly by's were no less unnerving as we realized they were out securing our city from any further attacks.

Several days later I went to a flag ceremony out in Weston. You did anything you could to be a part of a community. As the flag was raised and positioned at half-mast and we sang the National Anthem, a cyclist taking advantage of the warm Autumn day for a country ride, stopped along side the rode, dismounted, removed his helmet, and placed his hand over his heart and sang along with us. Ten years later, that is the image that is in my head of national pride.

A few weeks later I had to fly for a business trip. Security was now military men in full gear, carrying machine guns. Machine guns in airports were only things you saw in the international news, not in American airports. Passengers were quiet, courteous to one another, quick to hand over anything requested.

Ten years later, something things have reverted back to pre-9/11. For some, life will never be the same. Living in Boston and working for a financial services company, you know people who were on the planes or people who worked in the Twin Towers. You know people who should have been there but by a twist of fate weren't. Ten years later I love my country just as much as before.

This is one of my favorite anthem's to America. During the events and aftermath of the terrorist attacks we witnessed heroics and courage and bravery and succoring.

My native country thee
Land of the noble free
Thy name I love

Mind Mapping

My friend Kevin has been posting a series of great stuff based on the book Making Ideas Happen and I thought I would share the method to my madness on how I create Action Plans for all my brilliant ideas. (Brilliant might be stretching it a bit.)

It starts with Mind Mapping. This is something I picked up from a training class through work several years ago. This has suited me for just about every aspect of my life: Work ideas, school ideas, novel plots, etc. I call it a cross between a pin wheel and a spider web. In the center is the crux of the issue. Each fork out represents major ideas with their associated pros/cons/action plans or whatever the situation calls for.

I will need to be making some major life choices with a drop due date of August 2012. This mind map consist of three main choices I have while I finish up my PhD. They are: Full time instructor, "Real Job" + adjunct professor, or contract work + adjunct professor. I think if you click on the photo you can see the branches below each of those choices.


(Most often, I do all of this, and I make spreadsheets to analytically weigh pros & cons listed under each pinwheel, but in the end, the final decision is based on gut instinct. Sorry, no lessons on how to do that. )

Once I choose a decision I make a project calendar for the full time frame. In this case, I chose being a full time instructor. (This is not a declaration of my future. I'm merely using this example for demonstration purposes.) There is the primary goal one - obtaining PhD, primary goal two - becoming full time instructor, and secondary goals. (click on the image for a larger image.)
Now that I have this master plan laid out, I can make a weekly/monthly calendar. The sample below was extracted from the beginning of this year while I was finishing my MBA and starting the Masters of Research. And yes, I did schedule in my T.V. time. I love T.V.This calendar then gets printed out and posted on my fridge. However, reading through Kevin's blog I realize that I probably should commit to more actionable items. Might speed the process of accomplishment along a bit more.

Service

There are a lot of different careers that I would love to have: professional classical musician, writer, veterinarian, Las Vegas show girl (I know, but it's true. It's the feathery costumes), landscape designer, tennis player (I have a better chance at being a show girl), movie director, spy, soccer mom.

I've also considered more service oriented jobs: FEMA, red cross, etc. If I were a man, or Episcopalian, I would also consider being a chaplain in the Armed services (In order to be a chaplain you have to be able to perform the ordinances of your own religion.) I did spend a short time helping out in a Christian shelter in Boston where I helped read the Holy Bible and sat in prayer and mediation with those who asked for the help. And I've been involved in orchestrating quite a few other service projects through the years. (Mt. Vernon nursing home anyone? Or the Sunday clean-ups at the duck pond in Malden?) Generally speaking, I have many short comings, but I have a great love for God and all that he has created and enjoy being a serviceable person.

Unless of course that is in an official capacity. I'm not sure that I have any readers who are not LDS or don't know anything about the religion, but I'll briefly explain: Ours is a lay church which means it is of the people, for the people, by the people. Oh wait, that might be the Gettysburg address...but it's kind of the same thing. We all take part in doing our part. Except me.

I can't hold it together when I'm given an official calling (responsibility). A psychoanalysis of all the many reasons why would be longer than a blog post should ever be, so we'll just leave it there. I can sign up to clean up the building, I can volunteer to watch someone's children in an emergency, I can give a talk, I can sub a class, I can visit the sick, the elderly, the poor, but the minute I am given any of these tasks to do on a regular basis I am filled with dread, resentment, panic, fear, anger. Pretty much all the feelings that the are opposite to being filled with the love of Christ.

There have been many leaders who think I'm an evil person because I don't *want* a calling, that I am not *willing* to serve. A diabetic doesn't fast, a cripple isn't assigned to be the janitor. There are many people that have mortal things that prevent them from doing all that they want to do. An official calling is one of those things for me.

But I think me and God are good. He created me and He gets me. I don't know that I care too much if anyone else does. Even if I do get the stink eye from church leaders from time to time.

Afternoon walks

I love a good walk. A good walk can be in the city, a small village or out in the country. Today I'll take you along for my afternoon walk.

My walk starts from my flat, heads out North along the neighborhood sidewalk for a mile and half and then I head East to the public foot paths running through the pasture lands.

Flowers along a brick wall.

Walking past the football field and playground towards the public foot paths. There are so many churches here. More churches than people!

Yellow flowers and a happy bee. I haven't yet crossed a climbing post to get into the pasture.

My goal is to make it to this mansion. Impossible. All the public footpath's circumvent it and the closer you get the more the view is obscured by trees.


Oh how I wish I could just lay in the field and read Hardy and Gaskell and Browning and Tennyson all day....

I crossed about six of these today. And went through a few gates as well.

Cresting the top of the hill I was on. Across the way is Cleeve Hill. The highest point in the Cotswold (1083 above sea level) (not very high. :) )

I may have eaten myself silly on blackberries. I kind of felt like a little bear in the forest eating berries. Fruit the way Mother Nature intended.

Thus concludes the afternoon walk. And surprisingly I did not get rained on.

Avebury

I know my blog posts are dwindling but I've not really been doing much of anything exciting and have been busy with school work. But on Thursday I took a short trip to Avebury with some friends from church. It was great to get out of town and spend time with people. And sheep. And rocks.

Avebury is a henge monument containing three LARGE stone circles. (Similar to Stonehenge). We also went to West Kennet Long Barrow (or neolithic burial tomb).

I'll open this blog with one of my favorite pictures. There is a giant barley field surrounding the Barrow. The day had been warm and full of sunshine. Towards the afternoon a few clouds were rolling in and I loved the contrast of the barley, green grass and grey skies.




This second picture is the opening to the Barrow. It's believed that the construction on it began around 3600 BC. It was excavated around 1859 and discovered remnants of at least 46 burials. You can walk in the front part of the barrow and walk into several small chambers.



This is me resting against one of the rocks lining the entrance to the barrow.




The picture on the left is me standing in the center of one of the henge circles which also happens to be a sheep pasture. The tiny little village of Avebury is behind me. This picture reminded me of the picture of me from Zurich last October. There's something about me standing with an open field behind me that makes me look like I'm really standing in a booth and the scenery is CGI..




The circle of rocks is very large, large enough that the little village was built in the center of the circle, so you can't get a good photo of the rocks like at Stonehenge, but here is me with some of the rocks in the back ground. And if you ever wonder why most of my photo's have me cut off at the legs it's not because I'm ashamed of my legs. It's because I always wear tennis shoes and I choose to cut them out of the photo's. :)
There are not many shops in the village. Maybe five? Quaint.



And we'll close the blog post with a second of my favorite photo's from the trip. Sheep. They are completely unfazed by the hundreds of tourist trampling through their pasture.