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Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts

Sunday, 1 February 2009

And did I mention it's BLEEPING COLD?!?!?!?!

This is what I am looking at on my igoogle right now.





Showers Snow
32°F
Current:Showers Snow
Wind: E at 8 mph
Humidity: 59%
Sun
Chance of Snow
33° | 30°
Mon
Chance of Snow
41° | 33°
Tue
Chance of Rain
39° | 32°
Wed
Chance of Rain
41° | 39°

Clear
69°F
Current:Clear
Wind: N at 0 mph
Humidity: 15%
Sun
Clear
63° | 29°
Mon
Clear
58° | 25°
Tue
Clear
63° | 29°
Wed
Clear
63° | 32°

Clear
73°F
Current:Clear
Wind: NW at 0 mph
Humidity: 14%
Sun
Clear
70° | 31°
Mon
Clear
72° | 32°
Tue
Clear
74° | 34°
Wed
Clear
74° | 34°

So I hope all of you are basking in the warmth right now, because I'm freezing! This storm is coming across from Siberia and waging cold war here (heehee-cold war) but honestly, I think if I wanted to have weather from Siberia I would have moved there. I'm wearing a shirt AND a heavy turtleneck sweater, the hot water bottle giraffe (his name is Jonah, for future reference) is my best friend, and I have my dead sheep (the grey fuzzy slippers that Ashley swears looks like I cut the feet off of a sheep, hollowed them out, and stuck my feet in them... but MAN are they warm!) on my feet, and I'm still cold.

COLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLD!

And did I mention COLD?!

But my lesson plans are done, not just for tomorrow, but Tuesday also, and I have the whole week well planned in my head, which means I should absolutely rock on Wednesday when I have my major important observation.

Oh, and Happy SuperBowl.

Oh, and Paula's new-and-improved-she-swears website is linked on the sidebar, and she has some new paintings. *drool* If only I had $2000 lying around not being used.

Sunday, 2 November 2008

Back into the Olden days.

So Stephen did something wonderful yesterday. I know: strange, that Stephen could do something other than pin me to the floor with a one minded fierce determination to tickle my feet no matter how loud I could scream, how hard I could hit, or how much I tried to wiggle my way free, right? No, this Saturday was different, this Saturday Stephen took me on an adventure. Poor Mom was busy studying away (and apparently getting kicked out) of the library, working on whatever it is the she needs to work on for University. Meanwhile, at nine-in-the-drizzling-morning, I was making my way to the train station with my backpack filled with card games, bottles of water, gummies for snacking on, a camera, and tons of batteries.



Have you figured out where I'm going with this? Stephen took me to be tourist-y. He took me to Leeds Castle. If you have never been or heard of Leeds Castle, then I feel very, very sorry for you! It was wonderful!! The grounds were huge with tons of trees and green grass, lots of lakes and streams: this castle had everything! It had a Maze, an Aviary, a kid's park, and a kid's maze. It had land trains to get you from place to place, and most importantly, It Had Ducks! I'm not talking like a dozen ducks. Oh no, I'm talking TONS of ducks! Ducks with black swans, white swans, geese, moorhens, and coots; and it was just Ashley Heaven!



Here's the hitch, it was raining.

Not nice drizzling rain like it was doing in Canterbury, no-sir-ee-bob! It was POURING! Throughout the whole day I had to suffer and fight because my camera lens kept getting wet; so I have lots of blurry wet spots in my photos. It was amazing how wet it truly was. It just drenched us from head to toe. Especially toe. My shoes happen to be coming apart (they need to be re-glued) so any time I happened to walk into a puddle my feet got the full blast of the cold wet-ness. But it was such a lovely day! The castle was brilliant; we had to enter from the cellar and work our way up. We got to see bedrooms and dining rooms and the library. For anybody who doesn't know, Leeds Castle is built on two little islands in the middle of a lake, so to get from one part of the castle to the other you have to cross a bridge. Of course this bridge is covered so it wasn't draughty or anything, but the people who built it had a hard time dealing with straight lines. The windows were all perfectly straight, but the floor kept getting lower and lower. It was very curious, first you'd have the window come up to your elbow, then your shoulder, then your nose, then the window was too high up for you to even see out of (even on tip-toes!), it was highly amusing.



The maze was terrific fun as well. Since it was raining the pathways were basically gigantic puddles. In certain areas you pretty much had to wade through (that's an exaggeration, but you get my point.) So for me there was a lot of frozen toes and sloshing around. Stephen and I ended up splitting up early on, trying to find the middle. Well, it seems I found every single dead end possible. Stephen and another guy kept running into each other in this maze, so they would tell each other which ways weren't the way to the middle and by elimination, they ended up finding the middle and directing the rest of us through the maze.

In order to get out of the maze (without having to go back through it) you had to go under it, where there was a nifty little grotto. The grotto was made to be spooky and ominous with flashing lights and menacing laughter. The walls and floors were made with seashells and rocks in very interesting and pretty designs. Add flashing color onto them and you've got pretty interesting works of art! It was very nice. And dry....


Saturday, 21 June 2008

Deja vu.

Happy Midsummer!

Today's Sunrise: 4:36:58 BST
Today's Sunset: 21:18:12 BST

(BST = British Summer Time. Subtract 7 hours to equal Mountain Daylight Savings Time.)

I think it is a good thing that I have people like Dan around to keep me motivated to write on this blog. He says:

Hi Amy,

I've been checking your blog to see an updated health post. How are you doing? Are you getting psyched to come back to the States?


The sick thing is an interesting tidbit right now. No, I am not healthy. Yes, I am sick. But I am sick again rather than still. Which I suppose is better. My chest is not full of gunk, though I go in for an x-ray on Monday just to be sure. I, however, have come to the conclusion that whoever told me that it takes 5 to 7 years to develop allergies in a new place LIED. (And I say that with venomous emphasis, just in case you were wondering.)

I had seasonal allergies in the states: mulberry pollen got to me just like it did everyone else. There must be something here, though, that I am really allergic to in the air. I have been hacking and sneezing repeatedly and strongly, and glad for doing it as it itches my throat when I do. (When I am not sneezing to itch my throat, I am rubbing my tongue as far down it as I can to try and itch it that way.) My nose is running, my throat is sore from the nastiness draining down it, AND my eyes and the inside of my ears are so itchy that I seriously consider scratching them out.

These allergies don't feel like allergies from mulberry pollen. They feel like the allergies I get when I roll in the Bermuda grass and my eyes swell up and I break out in hives. So today Stephen and I took a trip to the local chemist (pharmacy) and I found the anti-histimine Loratadine. I hope it is my friend. I am really tired of being sick.

The weather here has been about 65 to 70 degrees F. The other day a colleague was telling me that it was obvious that summer was here. I hesitated to ask. She told me that this was about as hot as it gets in the summer. Egad! I feel like an icicle. My sweater is still my best friend, and I never leave home without it.

As far as being excited to head back to the States, I am! I can't wait for the heat. I can't wait to see my family. I can't wait to hold and kiss Tristan and read him books. Still waiting on the inventor to show up with my portal for instant travel.

There is news going on in our world too. We are house hunting again. Our lease is up at the end of July. The rent is going up, and we can spend less fairly easily. So the weeks before my trip to the States will be filled with work and packing. Woohoo fun.

Remember the job Stephen applied for? Well, just the other day we were sitting in our favourite coffee shop talking about it. We decided that it had been too long without hearing anything, and that must mean that he had not been called back for an interview. We get home and Stephen finds an invitation to interview in his email inbox. It is July 10. We will let you know what happens.

Ashley leaves the country on Tuesday. She will be flying internationally all by herself. She is almost adult-like. She will have her old cell phone when she flies into Houston, and will be staying the night with her Uncle Jim.

That's the current scenario. We will keep you posted!

Wednesday, 4 June 2008

Is the Sun Even Shining Today?

I am noticing a pattern.

Days in England that are rainy happen. Stereotypically, they happen daily; but in actuality it is far less than that. British people just like to make it seem worse than it is. In New Mexico, when it rains, it is sunny beforehand. Then the clouds pour in, thicker and thicker, until the sky is dark and gloomy overcast. the darker it gets, the harder it rains; and if it was really really dark, then you know you are in for hail and tornadoes and you'd better be in the house. Here, it is just... grey.

Today I can tell the sun is up because I can see. But there are no clouds. It is just like the sky is missing. Just grey. Sometimes lighter grey, sometimes darker. But still grey. This is a strange sensation. It feels like I live in a completely different world.

This other-worldliness manifests in other interesting ways too. Sunrise, for example. I don't think I told you all, but in the winter it was dark at 4. Yes, 4 in the afternoon. Kids came home from school in the dark. I came home from school in the dark. The sun would rise about 7:30 in the morning, and set at 4. People went to work in the dark and came home in the dark, having never seen the sun. I still shake my head at that phenomenon.

Now that it is fast approaching Midsummer the tables have turned. The sun comes up at god-early 4 in the morning! Sunset is at a fairly normal time... 8:30 or 9. But 4 in the morning? Perhaps that wouldn't even be something I would notice if I would close my curtains against the sun that early... but here's the thing. There is no AC here, which is fine... but the breeze at night is nice. And closing the thick heavy sun-blocking curtains also blocks the breeze.

I wake up less at 4 in the morning when the sun comes up. But for a while, everyday, 4:30 Amy is awake. Suns up! I'm slowly training myself to block out the sun, which feels a shame since there is so little of it at the other side of the year.

On an update note: I finished my anti-biotics today. Called the doctor yesterday, as I am still wheezy and congested, to find out if they wanted to extend the course of anti-biotics. Let's just say that not all doctors here in the UK are as nice as the one I saw. I was told that he didn't know why I'd been put on such strong anti-biotics, that I wasn't coughing enough, that it was all in my larynx, and that the first doctor probably hadn't even listened to my lungs. I tried to correct him... but sometimes it is better to be a duck and let it all just slide off your back. I get to meet this guy next Wednesday, as he DOES NOT want to see me before then. Suddenly, I am not looking forward to going to the doctor.

Monday, 2 June 2008

Lovely Goodness... or Not.

So much to tell you all... and since I am stuck home in bed I have plenty of time to do it.

Why am I stuck home in bed, you ask? Well... that is part of the story. I wrote in the last post that I had been sick a while back. Well, I kinda lied to you all. I made it sound like I had gotten over it... but I never really did. I didn't want anyone to worry, and I figured it was just a persistent virus or something, so it wasn't a big deal. But I kept coughing and coughing, and coughing fits were actually slightly disgusting with snot flying everywhere and hacking up great green gobs of greasy grimy gopher guts. Breathing was difficult, liquid, and painful; and it felt like someone had wrapped a steel band around my chest. I was still pretty insistent that it was a virus, but I just couldn't shake it.

Then Ashley the Lovely ended up with a seriously infected ingrown toenail. Now honestly, you wouldn't think that much of a big deal, but it is. It is when you live a sedentary life as a couch potato, or a normal life as an active parent (As Kim did, once upon a time;) but it is a really huge deal when you rely on your feet as much as we do. And Ashley's feet are her mode of transportation, so when she couldn't walk on them without extreme pain... time to go to the doctor.

That in addition to the fact that I was down to my last scopolomine patch with much flying coming up this summer, and my job was being pretty insistent about my needing to have an epi-pen, since there are bees in these here parts... I decided that I would have my cough looked at too.

The doctor, a Doctor Barton, was the stereotypical older Englishman that you envision. He has a cane. He has white hair. He wears a bow tie. He has the accent that we Americans define as the epitome of English accents. And he took one listen to my chest. Then listened again. And again.

"You have pleurisy," says he.

Pleurisy is the inflammation of the lining of the lungs, and has a tendency to go hand and hand with pneumonia. Which is what he is worried about. The lower right lobe of my lungs is the most tender and goopey, and when I cough and Stephen pounds there, it helps because the cough becomes more productive. It was this lower right lobe that he said was where all these fun things were happening.

So, I have super strong anti-biotics. I am on day 5 of them now. The cough is slightly better, but is by no means gone. It doesn't hurt as much to breathe, and I don't feel like I am breathing through water. I will be having an X-ray this week, and then possibly another one the week after. That will either confirm or deny pneumonia, and may change what we are doing to treat this. I am desperately hoping it is NOT pneumonia. I am also desperately missing the dry windy hot places that this desert rat thrives in. I blame this lung thing on the weather and infernal cold of England.

Ashley is also on anti-biotics for her toe. It is doing much better. Dr. Barton did nothing for the ingrown bit of it because the infection was too bad, but that just means that we get to go back together next Wednesday. Me to be checked again and her to have the ingrown part taken care of.

In the process of all this, I now have 2 Epi-pens (one for work and one for home.. and watching Stephen read the directions and play with the Epi-pens was quite entertaining. At least now he can save me if I get stung) and 10 additional scopolomine patches. I also have acidophilus, and a yeast infection thanks to the anti-biotics. I love being sick. (ha!)

A funny side story that might just make up for being miserable: The anti-biotics that I am taking smell quite nice, as they are coated with some sort of stuff to make them easier to swallow. Stephen is attracted to nice-smelling things. He just can't stay away from them. He opens the medicine jar and sniffs them. Often. And asks if he can please just lick them before I take them as they must taste lovely too. Soooo...

I let him. Ashley watched and burst into laughter. He looked at me, then did. Slowly, with anticipation, he licked my anti-biotic before I took it....

... and was disappointed. He says they smell much better than they taste. So now he just opens the bottle and smells them. It makes me laugh every time... which turns into a coughing fit. Every time.

On the not-sick front, Stephen has sent in an application for a new job today. It is a learning technology job at a University in London. It is a significant (possibly 5 digit) pay raise for him. If he gets it, it means that until I graduate he will be commuting to London... but our potential plan is to move somewhere between here and there, so that his commute is shorter and balanced by the equal one I will have to make. Since the school that I think I would like to teach at is in London, that would make the transition after I graduate an easier one to make. No one will be settling for a job so the other can do what they want. We will keep you all informed of the result of the application. But, to be honest, Stephen is awesome enough that I can't imagine they won't want him. And I am not biased in the least.

It dawned on me that it is less than a year before I graduate with my Bachelor's degree.

Spring is here and though it is still cold to me, it is much warmer than it was. The rain is nice, though not as constant as I was led to believe. Ashley tells me that it is SO HOT, though I take a sweater everywhere I go because I get cold. She hasn't adapted...not at all. ;) My favourite part of the spring is the babies. Baby ducks and baby moorhens are everywhere. My favourite, of course, are the baby moorhens. Their parents stay together to raise them, and moorhen parents take the cake for trying hard... though they are really dumb about it. Most moorhen babies are lost, sometimes before they even hatch, because the parents were not quite as thoughtful as they could have been when placing nests. But they make up for it in hard work when the babies are actually born.


Moorhen babies are little black balls of fluff. On the river by the house, there is a family of moorhens with small ones. It is nice to watch them grow. They are very cute, and since they are not as good at swimming as ducks, they holler after mama and daddy to slow down and wait for them. And they eat all the time. I feel slightly sorry for the parents. I don't think they have had time to rest since the babies came.

Though resting is something I am now getting back to.

Tuesday, 8 April 2008

Captain Bubbles. Topic: Birthday on Mars

April sixth, 2008: First mission, wake up. It is a difficult task, but the Captain can handle it. Oops, she fell back asleep.... OH NO! The base has been infiltrated by aliens! They're approaching the bed, AND THE CAPTAIN IS STILL ASLEEP!!!! They've climbed aboard the bed, it looks like a tag-team attack, and... whats this? They're CUDDLING THE CAPTAIN! She's not going to be sleeping on the job anymore, I can tell you that much! Alien M has decided the situation looks Under control for Alien S, She goes off to cook, oh watzitcalled... Ah yes! Breakfast! Some strange alien custom that is quite wierd but very appealing. Captain Bubbles thinks she might get a few more minutes of shut-eye, but guess what??!! It's snowing!!!! Snowing? It's never snowed on the Captain's birthday, she really is on an Alien planet! [Dum dum DUM]

Photobucket

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Strange ways in the Alien Homebase. Breakfast included Quail Eggs... They tasted fine, the Captain didn't detect any poison.... So far, so good. No assasination attempts, and a hot yummy breakfast in the tummy. The aliens brought over recruites... The Alien Crew is what I'll call them. They were watching the Captain.... she could feel it. They did bring peace offerings though, Books, the Captains' soft spot. Even Alien M and Alien S gave Captain Bubbles this strange offering... she soon found out it was because she was getting OLD! Well, Older.

Bubbles sat with the Aliens for a communal dinner, they were quite nice to have around. They had Spaghetti, With Asparagus! 'They must be buttering me up for something', she thought. 'How could they know my favorite dish?? Oh ya, I told them. Now it's time for Cake?' It was a marvelous cake, with Ducks and Frogs and Trees and a giant river, there were flowers and little penguin decorations for the Captain to eat. Yay for the Captain, she should do this getting older stuff more often. It pays well! It was a magic cake, after eating it, everyones mouths turned GREEN! and Blue, and it was so strange! Thankfully nothing was toxic, the Captian checked. The books were addicting, it's only two days later and Captain Bubbles has finished two of them!



















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Overall the Captain was pleased, besides being older, she's still alive, in good health (maybe a little fat from all the food there was) and has come to the conclusion that maybe she should have birthdays with Aliens more often!



















Alien S.



















Alien M.

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Captain Bubbles!

Wednesday, 26 March 2008

The Story of Mr. Dan, Mr. Man, and the Girls.

Once upon a time there was a Girl who moved so very far away from her family and friends, and she missed them very very much.


She lived with a lovely man. Mr. Man, as a matter of fact. He was sweet and kind, and took very good care of the Girl. But he, too, lived so very far away from all of her family and friends.


Even the younger Girl, the daughter-Girl, was sometimes sad at the sheer distance between where she was and where everyone else was.



All of the friends and family missed them too, and for most of them, it was a very sad thing, but there was nothing that they could do except threaten to kidnap the daughter-Girl and to send little packages that reminded Mr. Man and the Girls that they were loved, adored, and missed.

But for some of the friends and family, there was a PLAN brewing.

You see, Mr. Dan was a teacher. He taught other kids that were about the same age as the daughter-Girl. And Mr. Dan thought that those kids needed to SEE THE WORLD. (And learn about Shakespeare.)


So Mr. Dan made arrangements for those kids to see the world... and he made sure they started right near the place where Mr. Man and the Girls were... in London!

Everyone was so excited when he told them. Mr. Boo wrote letters and drew pictures and packed them very carefully into a package for Mr. Dan to bring. Ms. Christi went shopping for TONS of frivolous things that the Girls missed from home and packed them carefully into a package for Mr. Dan to bring. Mr. Zach made sure to drool on everything that Ms. Christi bought before it was packed, just to make sure that he sent his love too, then helped to pack it all into a package for Mr. Dan to bring. Had more people known about Mr. Dan's trip, he might not have had room for his clothes at all. He might have had to wear the boxes of macaroni and cheese and cans of green chile , Ranch dressing powder, and enchilada sauce as trousers and wrap them in the wax paper to keep warm.

It was cold and rainy when Mr. Dan and his kids arrived. They were 24 hours too late for the snow, and it might have been a good thing, too, as desert coats are not as warm as coats of wool. It didn't take long at all for Mr. Dan to to boot the kids to the curb and want to meet up with Mr. Man and the Girls. He even set a place - Piccadilly Circus.


What with travel time and Mr. Man and the Girls trying to walk to Oxford Circus, it took a while before the meeting-up actually happened. But when it did, there was lovely goodness. Everyone was so Happy to see each other! Mr. Dan and Mr. Man shook hands, very proper like. But the Girls squealed and hugged and chittered in delight.


It had been a long trip for Mr. Dan, and it was lunchtime, so the group of chittering, excited Girls and the two very accommodating Misters went to Chinatown for lunch.


Chinatown was fun. The daughter-Girl particularly liked the roasted ducks that hung in each and every shop window, commenting on their delightful crunchiness and utter uselessness as creatures of the wild.*


After a delightful lunch in which Mr. Dan and the Girl exchanged bags of goodies (the Girl sent tea and English biscuits and Ms. Christi sent Malt O' Meal) and Mr. Man artfully ate not only HIS lunch, but also Mr. Dan's (without his even noticing, actually,) the decision was made to take a tourist-y type trip to the London Eye.


Mr. Dan was scared.

Mr. Dan had grave misgivings about the safety of said Eye, and about his inherent ability to remain cognoscente during it's uppermost route. But the Girls were persistent, and when Mr. Man bought the tickets, there was no backing out for Mr. Dan. All he could do was grin and bear it.


Once Mr. Dan, Mr. Man, and the Girls were in the Eye, daughter-Girl kindly offered to hold Mr. Dan's hand. She is a sweet one, that daughter-Girl. Mr. Dan thanked her, but decided to be VERY brave and said that someone had to take many pictures or no one else would believe that he had actually managed to do it.


Mr. Dan got more and more brave as the Eye circled, and soon, with only minimal moral support from Mr. Man, was looking out of the glass wall.


And only moments after that, Mr. Dan was an old pro, taking pictures and chit-chatting, and not bothered by the height in the least.


They saw many things from the sky.

They saw Parliament and Big Ben...


... and buildings with green tops.


But no matter how much Mr. Dan tried, he just could not see Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. Mr. Man couldn't see his mum's house either. So they were both disappointed. The Girls weren't disappointed, though... they had Mr. Dan and Mr. Man to look at.

After the Eye, the quarto were almost out of time for their visit. They decided to go for a walk. They found, to daughter-Girl's delight, the soldier who never blinks or moves. She was sad that he didn't have on the clothes she'd imagined him having, and she was far too well behaved to go and try to make him react, but she watched and giggled at all of the other people who stood in front of him making silly faces or doing silly things to try and get a response. They didn't... he never moved a muscle.


After a few short Underground rides, and a bit of coffee, it was time to say goodbye. Everyone was sad, except daughter-Girl, who instead really was hoping that she would know some of the kids that Mr. Dan was meeting, and even more secretly hoping that Mr. Dan would have her talk to the other kids. But alas, that was not to happen. What WOULD happen, however, was that daughter-Girl would take her own train home (the first time by herself, even) earlier than Mr. Man and the Girl, and that Mr. Man would leave his 'brolly in the coffee shop, thus requiring a return trip.

It was a wonderful day and a wonderful visit. And the most exciting thing for Mr. Dan? Says he, "I'm actually going to make it into your blog?! Wow!"

THE END

*Ashley's favourite animals are ducks, and she was actually devastated by the windows of roast ducks. She absolutely refused to go into and eat at any of the shops that had roast ducks hanging in their window.

Wednesday, 28 November 2007

Have Yourself A...

First of all, a very Happy Thanksgiving to all of my friends and family. Even though I didn't do anything, really, but study... I was with you in spirit. Imagining Anna's pumpkin cheesecake, Dar's turkey... my pecan and pumpkin pie. I miss you, my family and friends.

There was, of course, not enough time or fundage to call everyone that I wanted to call, or talk as long as I wanted to those I did call. But my thoughts were with each one of you.

There are still 4 projects left on my plate... and they are all due next week, so this really is crunch time. Last night I dreamt about not getting them all done in time. That I was trapped doing them forever and nothing was actually getting done at all, and that the clock was pressing down on me, crushing me. No wonders what I have been thinking about, right?

There have been so many changes here...

The Christmas lights are turned on in the High Street at night. It is amazing to me how something so simple really transforms the whole street. The trees look as though there are will-o-the-wisps floating in them, the whole street glows, and there is an air of Christmas. It makes me excited for the holiday.

The weather, while still cold, is far less cold than I expected. I still freeze, it is still at least as cold as the deep winter in New Mexico, but there has been no snow, and only one day when I walked outside and swore my face was going to fall off from the bitter frost. It has been raining a lot... which I still haven't gotten used to. I still LOVE the rain so much, seeing it grey outside makes me happy.

The river here is SO sensitive to the rain. When it doesn't rain, the river is low. The ducks and moorhens walk around on rocky patches. But the day after a rain, the river runs deep, and if you see a duck at all, it has attached itself to a glob of waterplants to avoid being swept away. It often amuses me that the ducks are so graceful when they swim, while the moorhens have to paddle like crazy and still get swept downstream. That is the joy of not having webbed feet. Poor moorhens.

Speaking of moorhens, the babies I watched from the time I got here have finished growing up and have moved away. Occasionally Stephen and I see one that he says is one of the babies, but I have no idea how he can tell. They all look the same to me anymore.

The one change that I am not happy with involves the sun. It gets really dark here, really early. By 5:30 it is midnight black. The sun is setting at 4. Stephen tells me that by the deep of winter, we will walk to work/school in the dark, and walk back home in the dark. I can't really imagine that yet... and wonder how I will respond. I hope I am not someone who needs the sun in order to function. I have never not had the sun before...

There are changes in us, too. Ash has taken to going out wandering with her friends, and occasionally she wanders out past when I am comfortable. In her defense, my comfort level has nothing at all to do with time, but with how dark it is... so I feel like she is out WAY too late and it is only 6pm. She is so good about coming home when she says and letting me know when she is going and with whom. For the most part, anyway.

I am ready to be done with this degree. I feel as though I am most productive when I don't have to interrupt what I am doing in order to go to class. I spent a few days at one of the local schools, focused on behavioural disorders, and I enjoyed it. I miss being in a classroom. Next term I will spend 6 weeks in a classroom, and I am looking forward to it. I never wanted to be a teacher because of the studying... but because I love being in a classroom learning with the kids. (Though I find that there are some specific classes I really want to take right now... physics, for one. And something math-y.) I miss Tristan so much that it hurts. And I made an apple pie that was so lovely... including the pie crust, from scratch. Yay me.

Stephen is enjoying his job; at least as much as I suppose it is possible to. He has lots of opportunity to direct his own tasks. He likes that. Gaming happens at our house, which I like, because I can pretend that I am involved even though I'm not... and it makes me a little more ok with the fact that I simply don't have time to do fun things like game the way I want to.

Well, this post is long enough to perhaps make up for a bit of my not blogging as much as I want. By the end of next week, things should calm down. I only have 1 big paper that /must/ be done over the break. The rest of the page long list is simply things to keep me ahead. So I should have more time to keep you all up to date. More soon, then!

Wednesday, 26 September 2007

Brrr... and Other Stuff.

I have never known cold that goes down to your toes and stays there.

Granted, I haven't been feeling well, and the radiators in the house are not turned on. So it is partly my own fault for feeling the cold creeping into my bones like death. I'm sure it has actually been colder outside in the States... but I can't seem to shake the cold. I can't seem to really get warm enough, until I'm huddled under the duvet and wrapped up in Stephen-warmth.

The temperature here is currently, according to the weather-woman, surprisingly low for this time of year. At least 5 degrees C less than they expect it to be. May not seem like a lot, but in Fahrenheit-speak that is about 10 degrees colder than 'normal'. And normal is such a loose term. My 'normal' for this time of year is about 35 degrees more than that.

It didn't help that today was rainy... and while I love the rain, it is undeniable that rain, especially cold rain, makes things so much colder. Plus there is such a wind here... it blows into your ears and freezes your brain.

Today was also my first day of University. A lecture that was really only basic information, and a seminar in the small group I'll be working with for the rest of the time I am there. And I was surprised. First at the fact that everyone was SO much more friendly than I expected, and second because of a cultural fact that I saw in action today.

I had read a book by Kate Fox called, "Watching the English". Kate Fox is an anthropologist, who picked apart the behaviour rules of the English people. A lot of them were silly and really difficult for me to accept as being truth, and easy for me to dismiss, being Non-English. (Stephen kept saying things like, "Oi! I do that!", so there must be at least a lot of truth in them, as un-understandable as they are to me.) But one of the things that she said was that names are not something that are given up at first meeting.

We played one of those silly ice-breaker games in our seminar. There are about 30 of us, and we had to pick a number between 1 and 30 and answer questions. Silly questions like what is your favourite movie; things like that. Nothing was said about names at all. And noone gave their names. They all answered the question and at the end I might have known something about them, but not their name. So I guess I'm down to saying things like: "Hey, you, girl who doesn't believe that pastry should be savoury! Come here!" I, being American and loud-mouthed, did indeed tell them my name. And they all stared at me blankly. As though I were the insane one of the group.

One person of note sat behind me at a table full of gigglers. I have to admit a bit of a bias towards those silly girls as mentioned in one of my previous posts. Well, her question was about her favourite movie. With a gusto, she ranted about "High School Musical" for maybe 10 minutes. We couldn't get her to stop, and I now know that she has the pillow and the pajamas and the poster and the DVD and everything else under the sun, that it is the best movie EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, and that not only does she squeal like a pig, but also her accent is so thick as to be almost unintelligible to me. And that she is 19. Our tutor actually compared her to his 6 year old daughter, who also loves "High School Musical". And we all laughed at her, because that is what English people do. They laugh at themselves. (And yes, this girl giggled madly along with the rest of us.) The most disturbing thing about it was the fact that the entirety of her table were chirruping in the whole time in agreement with her, in equally squeal-ly voices. Some of them were a bit more understandable, but all were equally high-pitched.

On a less soprano note, I was not the oldest person in the class! There are a whole group of us 'mature students', as we are called. They are all fairly nice, they invited me into their group, and they seem to have some grasp of what is important in education. NOT that I am saying that HSM girl doesn't... I'm just not entirely convinced that she could carry on a conversation without mad giggling. Imagining her in a classroom... not nice, Amy. Not nice.

Anyway, I have no opinions yet on anything. I have at least the rest of the week to get through. And perhaps a few more before I'll make any sort of judgement. I'm just really glad I'm not the only grown-up.

Now... where the heck did I put that hot water bottle and really heavy blanket? I'm freezing!

Monday, 24 September 2007

The Old Man is Snoring...

It's raining!!!!!


Yay yay yay... and some more yay yay yay's. I LOVE the rain. I love it when it just sprinkles, when it pours, when it spatters or mists or gushes. I love the rain. It feels like a new start, every time.

The rain I am used to is often warm, very rare, and either very light or too powerful to actually go outside into it. It often involved hail, broken windows, and flooding. But this rain... this rain is steady and consistent. It is something to trust in. It is daddy rain. It feels safe, like I'm in a cocoon and the rain is the walls around me.

I don't exactly know why I love the rain so very much. But it calls me. I want to play in it, get wet in it, fold paper into boats and sail them down the gutters like I did when I was small. I used to play in the rain in the States. But I think this rain might be too cold. So I stare out the window at it and pretend that I'm in it.

One of the memories I have as a younger person involves the rain. It is a memory that is so lovely and precious to me that I have built on it, and I know now that what I remember is more than what there actually was. But it doesn't matter to me that my brain has taken it and made it more... it is a lovely memory. It is an important memory. I don't have to remember the truth. I don't want to remember the truth.

It was a weekend, probably a Saturday afternoon. The sky was dark grey and overcast, clouds hanging heavy over the top of me. It was raining, a persistent drizzle, perhaps a bit more powerful than what it is raining outside my window now. But it, too, was a daddy rain. The rain and the low clouds were an unbreachable wall between me and anyone and anything else. I was in my room, my pink room, my neat pink room where everything was perfect. There was no one else there. I was sitting in my window, on a thick cushion covered in pictures of pink Victorian roses. The light from the fixture on the ceiling was warm and yellow, the kind of light that pulls you into its arms and holds you close. It was just bright enough to define the walls of my room as the walls of the world... and past that was the rain.

I had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no one to be with. No chores, no homework, no yelling or fists, nothing. I think I was 10, perhaps 11. Maybe 9. Does it really matter? I was at that age where there is no other time in the world. What was right then would always be. Every moment timeless. I was not so small to have to wish that I was bigger, but not big enough to long to be grownup yet. I was just... me. I was in that moment, cuddled comfortably on the window cushion, leaning back against the wall behind me, with my feet tucked up and warm underneath me. I was holding a book in my hands, some old hardback tome which gathered the warmth of the light and pushed it into my hands. I was reading in spurts, in the tick tocky silence, interjecting the story with glances out the window to remind myself that the wall was still there, that I was really still safe, that it was real.

The smell of ozone that only seems to come with the rain in the Southwest was there, and it was a clean smell, one that didn't exactly fit in the warmth of the room, but instead emphasized how held I was by the safety of the warm light. It was good. It tingled my nose when I breathed in, almost painfully. I was alive, it told me. And the world was good. In the moment of my awareness of exactly how tingly alive I smelled, the dry musty scent of the book I was holding streamed into my nose. There was such a contrast between it and the ozone, such a marked difference between the crisp and the ancient, that I felt stretched across time, on fire with being alive and holding such ancient wisdom. It was a perfect moment.

I remember that smell.

Perhaps that moment is why I try to memorize the scents of things that are important to me. I try to memorize the smell of Tristan's hair, the scent of Stephen's chest, the tingle in my nose that is Ashley. And maybe that moment is why, when I get caught up in the depth of loving someone so much that I can physically feel it, the feeling starts in my nose, then moves down to clench in my stomach. Or why when I hurt or am sick, smelling hurts. Any scent is painful. Or why smells I have forgotten, then smell again, can stop me in my tracks. Or why I am led to investigate imaginary scents that only I can smell when we go for walks.

The rain is safety for me. And this light misty rain wraps me up and holds me close. It loves me, if you can understand what that means. And it feels like being home.

Thursday, 21 December 2006

In Which Amy Reveals her Secret Holiday Plans... (shh...) (Myspace Blog)

So, what is Amy doing for the holidays?

Well...

NO rainbow vomit. (otherwise known as Xmas lights)
NO fake trees
NO real trees
NO ornaments
NO presents
NO Santa
NO Xmas cards
NO cookies
Well.. ok... some cookies. But NO sparkles on them
NO silly hats with bells and fur
NO candy canes
NO presents

NO kids.

Kinda sad, you'd think.... but mi hija and I decided that we were both ok with the long list of no's... and there are trees and lights and yaddayadda elsewhere. Nice to have an xmas not based on the materialism of the season. Nice to be free to relax rather than getting caught in the hubub of the holiday.

The part that makes me a bit sad is the no kids part... My youngling to his other moms and my oldling to her dads. They will have fun... it will be good for them. Me, on the other hand... but there are other holidays.

Actually, I am doing something for the holiday. I am packing me and my stuff into a van with my mom, 2 of my sisters, and my nephew and we are driving. First to Dallas, to pick up a third sister and see my brother and his almost-so-close-to-time wife and kiss 3 year olds and rub slightly bulging baby bellies. Then to Georgia, to spend a wonderful few days with yet another sister, her husband, and their family. I really am excited, even though the trip will be grueling. I have never been to Georgia. I hope it snows. Not that I would know what it was if it did... (This is snow?! WOW! It is so wet... and cold! My fingers are numb! I can't feel my toes! This sucks! Lets go inside and drink hot cocoa!)

Then back home to vegetate and recover from a horrid semester. But only 2 more before blocks... I am almost done... I think I am starting to taste it.

Or is that sand? It has been really windy....

Sunday, 15 October 2006

In Which Amy Rolls with the Wheel of the Year... (Myspace Blog)


It is officially autumn in my book.

I am standing in the doorway of my house looking into my yard. There is a slight cool breeze, far better than the very cold breeze that has accompanied all the rain we have had for the past few evenings. (I adore the rain. My favourite days are always rainy ones.)

The reason I know it is autumn is apparant when I look at the ground. It would crackle under my feet had it not been so wet. Leaves. Everywhere. Grey, brown, yellow, orange, red, all spread in a thin layer across my yard. There is more to come, because the tree they have come from is still green and vibrantly full of life.

I love the autumn. It is the beginning and the end. We pull in the harvest, remember our dead, and prepare to give thanks for the things in our lives that are a blessing. And I have so much to be thankful for.

This year has been a year of transition for me, and I appreciate the transition of the autumn more so because of it. Like me, the life of the tree is a state of flux, constantly changing with the seasons. This winter, while the trees lie dormant through the cold; I ,too, will lie dormant in many ways - my focus inward rather than out. I feel as though I have much to learn from this introspective reflection. Much to learn about myself, how I think, where I want to go in life, and what I believe and feel is worthwhile and worthy.

This process of reflection does not come easily for me. I must struggle and fight my way through it because I like to believe that I am flawless and perfect, even though I /know/ that I am not. But this inner struggle is a challenge that carries many rewards. Not only do I stand to gain a greater perception of me, but I also stand to gain a greater acceptance of those who are not like me.

I welcome this acceptance... there are so many different types of peoples. I want to be critically aware of the impact that I make while walking amongst them. Am I one who makes waves by speeding through without regard to culture? Or do I row in the midst of culture, basking in it and soaking it up like a sponge in order to internalize the fact that I am no different than they in so many ways.

We each choose how we move among our family of fellow human beings. We can choose to make waves and expect the world to move the distance to meet us, or we can bask and soak and meet the world in the middle. I choose acceptance, even when it means that I am the one to do the work.

Tuesday, 10 October 2006

In Which Amy Could Have Died... Again... (Myspace Blog)


There are times when beauty can kill you.

The first time this happened to me was the first time I heard the song "Perfect Time of Day" by Howie Day. I was driving home from work, it was overcast and drizzley and the clouds were tumbling over the mountain and it was so beautiful, what with the rain and the clouds and the colours and the song that I thought I could die and even THAT would be beautiful, with the image of perfect beauty in my eyes. I think I just might have drifted off into death, but I thought of my children and it pulled me back into the world and I made it home safely.

This morning was the second time.

It was far earlier than I am usually even awake, let alone out of the house, driving. Last night had been rainy and hail-y, so I had fallen asleep listening to the plink of hail on the roof. When I left the house, it was still dark, there was water thick on the ground, and the windows of my car were heavy with the almost-frost that is indicitive of the fact that autumn is on her way.

Almost as soon as I got on the Interstate, I noticed a very light fog. I was excited! I love fog, because it is so rare! By the time I reached Mesquite, it had become quite heavy; I could barely see the car 20 feet in front of me, and I was starting to get just a bit scared. Then the most amazing thing happened... the sun started to rise. "Perfect Time of Day" came on the radio, and the sun glinted like diamonds off the fog. It was beautiful, the intense beauty that is almost scary like death.

My breath caught in my throat, I had to fight to remember how to drive, and, once again, I felt that this beauty was so.... passionate that I could drift off and be blessed to die with beauty like that in my eyes. It was beyond gorgeous.

Once again, this thought scared me a bit more, and I thought of my children. Once again, they drew me back, and I remembered that this was not a gift of death, but of life. Though I still had to be careful to remember how to drive, because those diamond gems twinkling like the stars kept calling my name and it was so very tempting...

I wonder if I would have had experiences like these before if I had taken the time to stop and notice them, or if they are truely tiny gifts of the Universe that happen so rarely. If that is the case, how lucky am I that I have seen beauty like that, not once, but twice. And how lucky am I that, each time, such beauty has chosen to accompany itself with such a beautiful song.

Very lucky indeed.