Hardwick Hall- Road Trip!

After handing in our thesis Fiona and I celebrated with a day trip to Hardwick Hall. What better way for two English students to let their hair down than by immersing themselves in the history of a well preserved house from the Elizabethan era. Wild I tell you, we are just wild.

Hardwick Hall is such an amazing place, and it has some of the best preserved artifacts from the Elizabethan era. There are two Hardwick Halls, the one that still has walls is the new Hardwick Hall, but I really preferred climbing the stairs through the old one. Elizabeth Talbot, Countess of Shrewsbury, also called Bess of Hardwick, was second only to Queen Elizabeth in wealth. She invested much of her money received from her four very advantageous marriages into property; one of these properties being Hardwick Hall.

This is a picture from the ground level of the Old Hardwick Hall. The white plaster bits that you see are from the original house, and are remarkably well preserved for being exposed to the elements for hundreds of years.This is Fiona looking out of what would have been the hall in which they entertained important guests. This room was my favorite of the whole house, the view is breathtaking in every direction.

This is the view of the new Hardwick Hall from the old one, so lovely. After enjoying our wander through the New Hardwick Hall and around the gardens. We counted ourselves lucky to have avoided most of the rain and enjoyed a lunch in their kitchen. Delicious and with two vegetarian options! great! So we ordered both and shared them, quite tasty and filling. We decided that we would walk around the old Hardwick Hall and then find a dessert at the Farm Shop. When we drove to the farm shop we learned that it is not so much a farm shop as a butchery. So our two vegetarian selves browsed uncomfortably at the meat pies and slabs of flesh surrounding us. When we confirmed that there was not a single pot of jam or cake in sight, we exited stage left to the car laughing at our mistake. Turns out Farm shop in this case means just that... meat from the farm. We drove home through the idyllic countryside most satisfied with our first full day of post-thesis life.

It is finished.

One year, 56 pages, 14,517 words, countless hours in the library and cups of coffee later.
My thesis is complete.

Above is a picture of my desk, or rather, what I looked at from my desk. It was crucial for my brain that I be able to see my outline at all times, even if it was a rough outline... these little bits of paper helped keep me organized. The quotes on the outside of the papers helped keep things in perspective when I was stressed.

After celebrating with some friends from the English department, I arrived home to find that Julie Ann, Maddy and Helen purchased and decorated cupcakes for me, gave me a card and bottle of crystal to celebrate. I really am so lucky and very happy for it to be complete... only now need wait for my results to arrive at the end of November....

The National Rail System

One thing I like about England is the train system.

One thing I don't like about England is the train system.

Last weekend I went to visit a friend in the south of England. I caught the Friday night train to Peterborough. I should preface this by saying that I ride the train quite a bit, and it is my main source of transport for long distance travel. On average, train rides are quiet and peaceful. This is one thing I love about Britain, is that people keep their conversations in public to a minimum, and usually at a nice quiet level. I have yet to master this trick... that being said...

On Friday night I was assaulted with such a cacophony of annoying sounds that if each part hadn't melded perfectly with the others to form a symphony of disastrous irritation so hyperbolic that I found it amusing, I might have been very put out. As it was, there were too many to not laugh. The man sitting next to me was reading a book and seemed to also be trying to chew off his fingernails and then a straw, and then for dessert a pencil... constantly for the 2 hour ride. There was a little girl of maybe 3 that would periodically start screaming. There was some ambiance music from some undisclosed boom box. Though I think my favorite was the fact that the door that separates the carriages from the open area between phone friendly zone between carriage seemed to be un-close-able. This meant that my end of the carriage was privy to the rantings of a crazy chavy woman, the likes of which I have never heard. I almost went to tell her: you know, we can hear you. I just hope the gut that hot pink tank top was poorly concealing was from beer and not from a baby. Lord help us. I think you must know the type of conversation I overheard. Here are a few snippets:

in a really whiny and off and on again yelling volume picture this:

Well fiiiiiine then, tell him I will get a taxi, no, I will just get a taxi, urhg, then don't pick me up, I don't want to talk about it, I DON'T want to talk about it, ugh, fine, geez, ugh, I said we will when I get there, ugh, noo-wa, yesssssssssss. Fine. no. fine"

then she makes another phone call and now picture giggling:

Oh my God, I know, I know! hahahaha, I know! I can't believe it, yah, and he was all like, and then we said, no yah, I'll be there, yeh, on the train, yah, haha, he is such a _____"

and so it went... alternating... for over an hour. It was too funny to find it annoying, plus I was on my way to spend a weekend with friends, had good music on my Zune, and Mort by Terry Pratchett to drown out the circus surrounding me.

I returned to Leeds on a Monday morning train, and was sitting at a table with 3 very polite teenage boys, well two were teenagers, and one was a pre-teen. They kind of resembled my brother-in-law's brothers, Patrick, Ely and Gregory.. which endeared me to them immediately. They read their books and magazines about music and sat quietly the entire journey. It was blissful.

Good Poems

I have this book of poetry (I have many books of poetry to be truthful) but there is one in particular that always travels with me. My friend, Emily, gave me Good Poems, a collection of poems read by Garrison Keillor on the Writer's Almanac, for my 22nd birthday. This is the book I take with me where ever I wander, it is always short listed.

Some of its brothers and sisters are tucked away in boxes at my parents, or camouflaged on the bookshelf of my home in Tacoma. Other books of poetry take it in turns to be on my bedside table. Poetry is food for me, and I crave it...sometimes the poems of Robert Frost or Mary Olivier, perhaps I feel like Billy Collins or Charles Bukowski; Edna St. Vincent Millay and the poems e.e. cummings (especially the love poems) are in regular rotation. I spent time with a few remarkable African poets, Rogara Muzanenhamo and Chinua Achebe in particular. The list could go on for quite some time, I will continue it later (I have to finish the footnotes to my thesis!)

Seems everytime I thumb through this book I find a new poem. I think this is because poems speak to us in relation to what is happening in our lives, and depending on my situations, some poems metaphorically speak a little louder than others.
Like this one:

where we are
by Gerald Locklin
(for edward field)

i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.

The Peak District

(picture above courtesy of Tim)

After finishing a draft to my thesis (due THIS Thursday!!!) I decided that a day off, fresh air and some excellent good company were just what the doctor ordered. So with a full pack of food (flapjacks, fruit, sandwiches... the works!) I caught my train to Hope Valley. It is so easy to catch the train from Leeds to the Peak District and I was in the mountains in less than an hour and a half. I only wish I would have realized this fact earlier in my stay, I would have happily made many more ventures to the Valley of Hope. :) Tim and I rendezvoused in Bamford and took a bus up to a reservoir and had a nice walk around.

I spotted this really dashing fellow overlooking the Dam.He was kind enough to take his picture with me ;-)
You can't really tell from the photo, but the rainfall combined with the spray from the dam really tested out our waterproof jackets! Verdict? They work. Excellent.

While we were walking around the reservoir, I fully experienced why they are called rain showers... for a portion of our walk every 10 minutes the waterproof went on...the waterproof came off...waterproof on...waterproof off. It was quite amusing. Overall we had spectacular weather... a few gusts of wind and rain showers and a whole lot of sunshine :)

After walking around the reservoir we headed to Castleton and had a cup of tea rested our feet. We wandered around the town a bit before eating some dinner. From Castleton we walked through these idyllic fields with grazing sheep on our way to Hope, where we caught our respective trains home. A very relaxing and rejuvenating day.

Much Ado About Cookies and Coins

It is not all fun and games... but all work and no play makes Rachel a dull girl. So as a reward for working so diligently this week, I went to go see a Shakespeare play at the Kirkstall Abbey. Maddy, Marian and I arrived early for a picnic on the grounds surrounding the Abbey. Sunshine, Shakespeare, what is better?

Here we are in our seats waiting for the performance to commence. It is the 14Th Annual Shakespeare Festival and this year the British Shakespeare Company are performing Midsummer Night's Dream and Much Ado About Nothing. I have seen Midsummer Night's Dream performed before, but Much Ado About Nothing is my all time favorite Shakespeare comedy! I had never yet seen it live...definitely worth taking a break from my thesis to go and have an exciting night out.

This is a shot of the set during a scene with Dogberry and the other watchman. It was a great performance. I felt the cast really picked up momentum as the evening progressed, and built up to a dramatic and happy ending. The dynamic between Beatrice and Benedict was particuarly well played, but it was all really good. Watching Shakespeare, outdoors, with the sun setting in a beautiful Abbey... was an excellent Friday evening.

After the play, we few, we happy few, went to the Pub just down the street for a pint. Who should happen to walk in? Only almost the entire company from the performance we had enjoyed only minutes prior! It was a star-studded night!

Saturday night we enjoyed some good ol' flatmate bonding time. Making cookies, drinking tea and laughing.

This is Maddy and Julie Ann. Julie Ann is my new flatmate. She is from Ireland and teaches English as a Second Language in Barcelona. She came to Leeds for a six weeks to teach the incoming ESL students at the University of Leeds.

Above, they look as if they are doing some fun math game I might have used with my students back in Auburn. But no. Trying to decide whether to go buy beer before the shops closed, Julie Ann flipped a coin. When the coin did not land on tails (the yes to beer! side) after a few attempts, Maddy had the good idea of dumping all the coins on the table and counting the heads and tails accordingly. This time tales won, and we all enjoyed a beer with our cookies. :)

Little bit of grammar trivia

A little bit of grammar trivia.

I am writing my thesis at the moment (or rather over the past few months and everyday all day on the second floor of the newly refurbished Brotherton Library (I love the chairs with wheels!)) There is a particular scene in Henry V, where Bardolph is sentenced to hang. I use this scene as a point of comparison across a variety of productions. As I was editing today I was struck by sentences which included: Bardolph is hanged, Bardolph was hanged. It sounds wrong, does it not? I thought of changing it to 'hung' but that sounded REALLY wrong... which triggered my grammatical bat senses (yes, yes, grammar bat senses.)

Upon a little bit of investigation I learned something new today.
A little background to the word 'hang' as in: I am going to hang the picture above my desk.

Present Tense Past Tense Future Tense
I hang hung will hang
You hang hung will hang
She hangs hung will hang
They hang hung will hang
We hang hung will hang

For the sake of time and simplicity I will leave it there, but suffice to say that indicative, conditional, and conjunctive forms of this verb are all hang or hung (with the exception of he/she hangs in present tense).

That being said, there is a caveat in the English language and when you are actually talking about the manner in which someone dies: They hang. They are hanged. They will be hanged. I know this seems like a dark topic, but not if you think of it as a cool discovery into English idiomatic usage of verbs and less about the manner in which someone is killed. :)

So back to writing my thesis, next stop the depiction of the French and English courts and xenophobia. hoorah hoorah!