Golly, it’s been a while! (Golly is an underused word, which I am attempting to reincarnate, one sentence at a time), and in Time’s typical manner, much has occurred.
Shakespeare’s Globe was fun while it lasted. The Footsbarn Shakespeare Party was less good than I had hoped, but the Shakespeare itself was unmistakably brilliant. Midsummer Night’s Dream is spectacular and certainly ranks in the top 10 shows I have ever seen. The choreographers and costume department have excelled themselves even further than usual – although the critics didn’t like the “lack of subtlety”. It’s Shakespearean comedy, designed for the bawdy masses! Get over yourselves.
Unfortunately, after returning from an afternoon show and sitting down with a friend to watch Eurovision (I know, I know…), I received some rather bad news from home. My elderly Dutch grandmother (Oma), who appeared to be in reasonable shape had been taken into hospital suddenly, and was now in a coma. We were forced to wait until early morning before traveling for various reasons, namely that it was 2am by this point, but every minute began to count. My amazing friend stayed up with me for another 2 hours, and then came to my house early in the morning to see me off. Unfortunately, she made me watch terrible Japanese soaps in an effort to cheer me up. Rather worryingly, it worked. After 11 hours of driving, we ended up lost on the Antwerp ringroad. The phone rang, and we were rather bluntly told by a family member (…) that she had died. So, 30 minutes too late, after all that.
Then the typically Dutch/Catholic rituals took over: the “coffee-table”, viewings of the body, readings… The whole list. Several masses, which we are all expected to attend. A 6 week, 3 month, 6 month and 1 year anniversary mass in the church. I am expected, of course, to fly from Canada for each of these. I don’t think that is going to be able to happen. Then came the dividing of her flat, which was political and nasty. The main problem was actually over an old violin which was given to me, having always admired it as a beautiful instrument from when I was very little. I always wanted her to play it, and she always refused. Now I know its history, or rather the several family myths around it, I can understand the fuss. Quite a ripping yarn, with gypsies, bombs and all…
I personally wasn’t bothered by anything in her flat – I remember Oma for who she was, namely because I mainly saw her in England or on days out around the village – I don’t remember her for her possessions. However, my uncles have a rather different view, and fought over everything. Even stupid things, like a video player, were fought over. Mother and I just kept well clear, and let them get on with it. I think Oma would have been proud. It was so interesting talking to the people she knew – they all remembered how smart she looked, even in the war, how she was a true carreer-woman at a time when they didn’t exist, how she raised her children, studied photography and ran a business at the same time, how she was stubborn as a mule and kept every bit of paper, every voucher, every death-note she ever received. We found boxes of memories, of family trees being whittled down with every card, little pictures of the children and the new house. Even the records of my great-grandmother’s family; a picture each Christmas showing the family growing and shrinking around the tree.
Anyway, when I finally got back to England, I just managed to catch my birthday (little BBQ, then the Summer Ball), and was straight off to Spain. Which turned out to be another political balancing-act. I loved Spain, just the group occasionally struggled, for various reasons (namely personalities) to hold together. Then, 2km from the end of a 30km day, after hiking around 160km in 8 days, my achilles tendon tore in two, completely putting stop to my goal of reaching Santiago. I’ll just return another day! It was even more beautiful and challenging than I remember and I will certainly be back. No question!
Now I am back home, with a surprise two weeks and not much to do. Need to return books in London, get a new passport, visa for Canada and other bits. Looking into jobs and manuscript conservation internships, but they’re all 3 months or more – getting work for 2 weeks as a hobbling beginner doesn’t look promising.
Tomorrow I am submitting my final choices for Toronto, after a massive battle with their incredibly confusing course system. I’m getting more excited by the minute!
Later Medieval Art
Illuminated Manuscripts
Persons, Minds, Bodies
Early Medieval Philosophy
Culture and Difference
Introduction to Conservation
Medieval Books
The Medieval Mind: Expression and Forms of Culture
Later Medieval Philosophy
Topics in History: History of Sexuality
And the backups, many of which are only backups because of timetable clashes…
Dark Age Europe: 7th – 10th C
Life in the Middle Ages
Women Writers
Introductory Latin
Vernacular Literature of the Middle Ages
I had set my heart on some of the courses I picked last time, but not all are offered, and the best have vanished (of course)… But better has replaced them, so i’m actually over the moon anyway! Research here I come! I’ve been considering the post-degree job hunting too, and i’ve got some wonderful ideas, although many are doubtful.
Adventures…
June 29, 2008 at 11:24 pm (Comments)
Golly, it’s been a while! (Golly is an underused word, which I am attempting to reincarnate, one sentence at a time), and in Time’s typical manner, much has occurred.
Shakespeare’s Globe was fun while it lasted. The Footsbarn Shakespeare Party was less good than I had hoped, but the Shakespeare itself was unmistakably brilliant. Midsummer Night’s Dream is spectacular and certainly ranks in the top 10 shows I have ever seen. The choreographers and costume department have excelled themselves even further than usual – although the critics didn’t like the “lack of subtlety”. It’s Shakespearean comedy, designed for the bawdy masses! Get over yourselves.
Unfortunately, after returning from an afternoon show and sitting down with a friend to watch Eurovision (I know, I know…), I received some rather bad news from home. My elderly Dutch grandmother (Oma), who appeared to be in reasonable shape had been taken into hospital suddenly, and was now in a coma. We were forced to wait until early morning before traveling for various reasons, namely that it was 2am by this point, but every minute began to count. My amazing friend stayed up with me for another 2 hours, and then came to my house early in the morning to see me off. Unfortunately, she made me watch terrible Japanese soaps in an effort to cheer me up. Rather worryingly, it worked. After 11 hours of driving, we ended up lost on the Antwerp ringroad. The phone rang, and we were rather bluntly told by a family member (…) that she had died. So, 30 minutes too late, after all that.
Then the typically Dutch/Catholic rituals took over: the “coffee-table”, viewings of the body, readings… The whole list. Several masses, which we are all expected to attend. A 6 week, 3 month, 6 month and 1 year anniversary mass in the church. I am expected, of course, to fly from Canada for each of these. I don’t think that is going to be able to happen. Then came the dividing of her flat, which was political and nasty. The main problem was actually over an old violin which was given to me, having always admired it as a beautiful instrument from when I was very little. I always wanted her to play it, and she always refused. Now I know its history, or rather the several family myths around it, I can understand the fuss. Quite a ripping yarn, with gypsies, bombs and all…
I personally wasn’t bothered by anything in her flat – I remember Oma for who she was, namely because I mainly saw her in England or on days out around the village – I don’t remember her for her possessions. However, my uncles have a rather different view, and fought over everything. Even stupid things, like a video player, were fought over. Mother and I just kept well clear, and let them get on with it. I think Oma would have been proud. It was so interesting talking to the people she knew – they all remembered how smart she looked, even in the war, how she was a true carreer-woman at a time when they didn’t exist, how she raised her children, studied photography and ran a business at the same time, how she was stubborn as a mule and kept every bit of paper, every voucher, every death-note she ever received. We found boxes of memories, of family trees being whittled down with every card, little pictures of the children and the new house. Even the records of my great-grandmother’s family; a picture each Christmas showing the family growing and shrinking around the tree.
Anyway, when I finally got back to England, I just managed to catch my birthday (little BBQ, then the Summer Ball), and was straight off to Spain. Which turned out to be another political balancing-act. I loved Spain, just the group occasionally struggled, for various reasons (namely personalities) to hold together. Then, 2km from the end of a 30km day, after hiking around 160km in 8 days, my achilles tendon tore in two, completely putting stop to my goal of reaching Santiago. I’ll just return another day! It was even more beautiful and challenging than I remember and I will certainly be back. No question!
Now I am back home, with a surprise two weeks and not much to do. Need to return books in London, get a new passport, visa for Canada and other bits. Looking into jobs and manuscript conservation internships, but they’re all 3 months or more – getting work for 2 weeks as a hobbling beginner doesn’t look promising.
Tomorrow I am submitting my final choices for Toronto, after a massive battle with their incredibly confusing course system. I’m getting more excited by the minute!
And the backups, many of which are only backups because of timetable clashes…
I had set my heart on some of the courses I picked last time, but not all are offered, and the best have vanished (of course)… But better has replaced them, so i’m actually over the moon anyway! Research here I come! I’ve been considering the post-degree job hunting too, and i’ve got some wonderful ideas, although many are doubtful.
Back to Titus Groan and Gormenghast! Woo!
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