Highlights Reel (Part I - March)

Okay, for one, I've been attempting to complete an entire masters thesis in less than 3 months (ALMOST DONE!). And two, I've also been attempting to squeeze in copious amounts of fun and see as much of and visit as many people in England/Scotland/Ireland/ Europe as time has allowed this summer between bouts of said thesis. The end result? I have hundreds upon hundreds of photos, loads of good stories, and only about 5 draft blog entries (which I never managed to finish writing and post) to show for it. Sigh. And I had such good intentions.

Considering that I'm turning in my thesis on Monday, defending (ORAL VIVAS!) on Wednesday, partying like it's (a decade past) 1999 and saying likely-to-be-tearful goodbyes to a lot of truly wonderful people on Friday and Saturday, packing on the following Monday, flying home that Tuesday, and getting a much needed haircut on Thursday (whoo hoo!), I decided that one final act of procrastination, in the form of a highlights reel, might be in order. So, here we go, a selection of favo(u)rite pictures from a truly fantastic summer:

ROLL TAPE#1

Location: Nottingham

Month: March

Purpose: To visit our dear friend Darren before he moved far, far away to Exeter. And to visit our other dear friend, Clare. And to meet Robin Hood, which of course, we did.

We also explored many historic things, such as this famous pub, which was the last stop and meeting point for knights heading out on The Crusades (thus the name, Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalum). Obviously, we were able to learn more about these crusaders by enjoying a pint or two in this history-laden pub, which happens to also be built into caves! So there were nifty limestone ceilings to gaze at while drinking said pints.

We also found yet ANOTHER pub that had caves. This time, they were down in the cellar. Apparently Nottingham used to have a huge underground network of caves connecting much of the city. As one might imagine, this network was a boon to smugglers and evil-doers, so it was eventually closed off. But individual pockets of cave-network still exist, which you can visit if you sweet talk the barmen, which we did with aplomb.

There were also modern things to gaze upon, such as this awesome metal reflecting-dish/sculpture, which made for fun photo-opts.

This is the 'Left Lion' - the official meeting spot in Nottingham. As in, you want to meet your friends downtown but it's the olden days and there are no cell phones, so you would pick a time and tell them to meet you at the left lion. There is a right lion as well, but apparently no one cares about that one. Sad, really.

We did not ride the prettily lit-up ferris wheel, but it was pretty, and very close to the left lion, and I was a picture taking fiend on this particular trip, so yeah.

We also learned that the people of Nottingham are multitaskers. They have created an establishment for gettin' their church on while ALSO gettin' their drink on. Yup. A bar. A bar INSIDE a church. A REAL church, with stained glass windows and everything. Now, I'm not a religious person, but even I felt a little odd watching scantily clad young women getting their jollies by dancing where the alter would normally stand. This is apparently what happens when The Church has too many churches and can't afford to keep them all. They get sold. And turned into bars. Hmm... I wonder, What Would Jesus Drink?

And finally, what trip to Nottingham would be complete without Darren and I commandeering some dinosaur costumes in the children's section of the Nottingham Castle Museum and having a ruckus-filled dinosaur fight? Good thing Andrew was there to document this PREhistoric event. Oh, and no matter what Darren says, I totally won.

ROAD TRIP#2

Location: The Lake District

Month: also March

Purpose: To celebrate Darren and his roommate (the other) Caroline's 30th birthdays by taking over an entire hostel (pictured below) in one of the most remote areas of England.

The first day in the Lake District we decided we would hike many miles in order to locate one of these famous lakes. It was a gorgeous hike, and while we started with about 40 people, by the time we reached the lake that number had dwindled to about 6. Generally, people hiked for an amount of time inversely proportional to how hungover they were from festivities the night before.

There were many treacherous obstacles on the hike. It was very windy (windy enough that I could open my coat, lean into the wind, and do the Michael Jackson move from the Billie Jean video, which I did... repeatedly), and it kept threatening to rain/snow/hail on us, but it didn't, thankfully.

There were even dangerous river crossings, with no passing natives to help us ford the raging rapids nor oxen to pull us across in a caulked wagon. Sigh. Below, Darren demonstrates the proper technique for such a crossing.

But in general, it was just beautiful. This is probably my favo(u)rite picture from the entire summer. The Lake District was absolutely STUNNING. I took about a million pictures with my teeny tiny camera, which means that a few of them were actually decent. This one, I think, is pretty decent.

Finally, we made it to the lake.

SUCCESS! PROOF! DARREN! CAROLINE! LAKE! MOUNTAIN!

...where we stopped an enjoyed the scenery, a few sandwiches, and a bit of whiskey. Few things warm the soul like sharing breathtaking views and a flask of whiskey with good friends on a cold day.

Then the sky became slightly menacing, so we proceeded back to our hostel to drink more whiskey and eat birthday cake.

It is also worth mentioning that this is the trip on which I learned how to drive on the wrong side of the road. My patient and steadfast navigator, Andrew, helped me through the various traffic circles and tiny, windy (how do you differentiate between wind-dee, as in the wind was blowing me all over the road, and wine-dee, as in the road was very twisty - they're spelled the same! - anyway, I mean the second one) roads lined with high stone walls which keep you from seeing around the corners and force you to (a) honk to avoid hitting other cars, trucks, sheeps, etc. hiding around the corners and (b) back up until you find the nearest bit of shoulder to pull onto so that those other cars and trucks can get around you. Maria, stuck in the backseat, was fantastic as snack and entertainment director, and did not get car sick, just to give props where props are due. The somewhat stressful nature of the teeny tiny one-lane stone-wall-lined roads in the Lake District is also partly to blame for the elsewhere emphasis on whiskey. I needed something strong to help relax my white knuckled steering-wheel-grip enough that I could be pried from the car...

Anyway, when we left the Lake District, we decided it would be fun (and more direct) to drive over Hard Knock Pass. This pass, which is closed in the winter because it becomes dangerous and significantly less pass-able, is considered one of the worst/most challenging roads in England. Why did I think this was a good idea? Because I LIKE challenges, because I live for danger... and because I didn't know any better. I really got a kick out of all the CAUTION, STEEP GRADE! signs, which were punctuated by evidence of trucks running off the road in various unfortunate places.

In any event, the boys only had to get out and push once, I mastered the use of the handbrake when starting in first gear on a steep hill, I finally stopped accidentally downshifting into 4th gear (problematic when you are aiming for 2nd), we didn't hit any cyclists, we did not hurt the car, and afterwards I felt that I TRULY had learned how to drive in England. Plus we all got home alive. Success!

FESTIVITIES#3

Location: La Tasca Restaurant in Leicester

Month: early April

Purpose: Celebrations resulting from the end of the second semester of classes. We still had lots of final projects to do to actually complete those classes, but as many of our classmates would not be coming back to Leicester to finish those assignments, we felt a celebration was in order.

And this is my absolute favorite picture from that crazy, well-earned night of debauchery. Hey Paul and Darren, have Gemma and Jacob seen this one? Eh?

Wow - so I actually thought I'd get all my summer highlights into one post, but I'm going to stop there. I do actually need to write another dissertation chapter today. At least I got through March - that's a small accomplishment, anyway. Keep an eye out for 'Part II: April and May' soon!

No time for faffing...

So in my last post, I forgot to include my absolute FAVO(U)RITE new word. Faffing. As in, I spent all day faffing about and accomplished nothing. Faffing really does encompass so many wonderful things. You can faff in the kitchen, in a park, on the internet... anywhere, really. Endless applications! And it goes so well with 'procrastinating,' which is another of my favo(u)rite words (and pastime activities).

My typical faffing often involves blog-updating as part of a larger assignment-procrastination strategy. Unfortunately, the current assignment load is so large and overwhelming that I really haven't had time to write about any of my recent adventures. And I need to. And I will. I will relate amusing anecdotes about snow ball fights, Nottingham, the Lake District, driving on the wrong side of the road, Bath, Barcelona, and London. So much to tell! So many good/embarrassing pictures. See (below)! Evidence of me concentrating REALLY hard whilst driving on the WRONG side of the road through mountains. MOUNTAINS! Isn't your curiosity piqued?And look! A colo(u)r-coded sheep beneath an ominous sky. Intriguing! Adventure-tastic!
But I can't do it right now. Right now I need to buckle down and finish these projects, or I won't actually be able to pass my classes, start my thesis, and bring home the masters-degree-bacon (preferably sans swine flu). Current final project word-count tally? 6,000 down, 10,000 left to write by May 14th. Wish me luck.

A lesson in vocabulary.

Before I left the states, my dear sweet grandmother (pictured left) imparted on me a bit of wisdom and practical advice. Though, admittedly, it was more of a thinly veiled threat which could be taken as advice. In any event, she said, "You go have fun in England, but if you come back with a fake British accent, I'll pinch your little head off." This is the same grandmother who calls reduced fat sour cream, "half-fast sour cream," (while holding the container out by the tips of two fingers like something smelly you find in the drain) and is a still angry at Crisco for taking the trans-fats out of its vegetable lard because it affects the flakiness of her pie crusts (the rest of us can't tell the difference, but then, she is the expert). After decades of smoking, she's finally given it up, not because it's terrible for her, but because cigarettes have gotten too expensive. The first week after she quit, I asked her how it was going, and she told me that she'd been running up and down the driveway and screaming a lot, but that she'd saved $40! In other words, I absolutely, positively, unequivocally ADORE this woman. She is a southern jewel. And I love how she says my name when she's excited to see me, without the "o" - KAY-line.

So, in part because of Franny's advice (when her first grandchildren were born, she decided that she didn't want to be called "grandma," but that her name, Frances, combined with "granny" would be acceptable, thus, Franny) and in part because it IS pretty silly to come home with a fake accent, I decided early on to steer clear of inflection mimicry, at least the best that I am able. It is actually hard sometimes, and I do catch myself saying certain phrases with a more British twinge. At other times, though, I think my (usually almost undetectable) southern accent comes out more in subconscious defense. However, strangers still identify me as American as soon as I open my mouth, so I must be stickin' to my verbal roots fairly well.

That being said, there are some fabulous sayings and word usages in this country - some of which I have had to ask for clarification as to what they meant or how they were spelled - and many of which I have happily adopted. So, I'm starting a personal dictionary of sorts; including both the words and phrases that I've started saying without meaning to, and the ones that still make me laugh every time I hear them. Some of them, most of us have heard before (think Harry Potter exposure), some I had heard but was surprised to realize are actually in commonplace usage, and some are common words that are just used more frequently or just differently over here. So, without further ado, Caroline's British Dictionary, take 1 (with some help from one rather extensive British "slang" dictionary):

Words:

Chuffed - Adj. Pleased, delighted. Compare with 'dischuffed' and 'chuffed to buggery'. E.g."I'm well chuffed at my stellar exam result." When I first heard this, I thought people were saying "chafed" and I thought it meant they were upset or irritated about something, as in "my legs were quite chafed by horseback riding," or "those tricky exam questions chafed." But after a spelling lesson, I was corrected. And this is not to be confused with the derogatory term Chav - Noun. A person, usually of poorly educated, working class origin, who dresses casually in designer sportswear and vulgar jewellery; generally viewed as an ignorant under-class with a propensity for criminal or loutish behaviour (I've heard the term most often from other students, especially when explaining why the police are always out in large numbers right after Leicester City football matches).

Gutted - Adj. Very disappointed.

Knackered - Adj. 1. Tired, worn out, exhausted. E.g."I missed my bus, I've just walked home, I'm knackered, so I'm going to bed."
2. Broken. E.g."Can we come around to watch TV at yours tonight, our is knackered." 3. Thwarted, prevented from succeeding at a task. E.g."We were knackered after our goalkeeper left mid-season." (Who knew it meant more than just tired!)

Bovvered - Noun. Troubled. A corruption of bothered, derived from cockney pronounciation. As in "I can't be bovvered, I'm not bovvered, Do I look bovvered? Am I bovvered?" and made famous by Catherine Tate's character on the BBC, Lauren Cooper (see video below when Lauren tells the Queen of England that she's "not bovvered"). Admittedly, most people actually say it so it sounds more like 'bothered' and less like 'bovvered,' but it's definitely one of my favorites.


Minted - Adj. 1. Wealthy. E.g."Just because he's minted doesn't mean he's upper-class." 2. Excellent.

Pants - Noun/Adj. Nonsense, rubbish, bad. From the standard British English of pants, meaning underwear; also a variation on 'knickers'. E.g."The first half was pants but I stayed until the end and it was actually a great film." An exclamation of annoyance or frustration. (As in, "That was total pants!" or just "Pants!")

Phrases:

Take the mickey - Vrb phrs. To tease, to ridicule. Also shortened to take the mick. An abbreviated form of the Cockney rhyming slang take the mickey bliss, meaning 'take the piss'. E.g."Stop taking the mickey out of Billy, he's very sensitive and you're upsetting him." Cf. 'take the Michael' and 'extract the Michael'. (Every time I hear this, I think of Harry telling Ron that Hermione didn't reveal her date to the Yuletide Ball because they'd "take the mickey out of her," and I laugh. And I'm a nerd.)

Take the piss - Vrb phrs. 1. To ridicule, to tease, to make fun of. Cf. 'extract the urine'. 2. To take advantage of, to exploit. E.g."Just because they like looking after their grand children, doesn't mean you can dump the kids on them whilst you go out clubbing. That's just taking the piss."

Away with the faeries - (not in the slang dictionary) As far as I can tell, asleep and dreaming, as in "sorry I missed your text, I was away with the faeries and my phone was on silent." (Correction posted on 09 March 2009: According to my classmate Jill, 'away with the faeries' is more along the lines of being not entirely with it, or day-dreaming; "off in la la land," my mother would say. So there we go, clarification.)

Slightly different usages:

Well - Adv. A general intensifier, very, extremely, definitely. E.g."I'm well upset about United losing in the cup."

Quite - This one has the same meaning we're used to, only it's used about 100% more than in the U.S. As in, I might say I'm 'very,' 'really,' 'extremely' or 'so' excited, but in most cases the English would say 'quite excited' for any or all of these. It seems to be their favorite adjective, and I find myself using it a lot more than I once did, as well as using 'very' a lot less.

Well done, you - As in "you did a great job on that."

Good job - As in, "It was a good job you turned in that assignment on time."

Obvious, maybe, or familiar, but funny:

Maths - Math, except here, it's plural!! I love it.
Trainers - Running shoes/sneakers

Washing-up liquid - Dish soap

Footpath - Sidewalk

Fell-walking - Hiking

Mince - Hamburger meat

Trolley - Grocery cart

Chips - Thick, soft french fries

Crisps - Potato chips

Biscuits - Cookies

Rubbish bin, or just 'bin' - Trashcan

Bangers - Sausages

Mash - Mashed potatoes (one famous brand of Instant Mash is called 'Smash Mash' and they have some truly awesome commercials from the 1970's.)


More late additions (thanks Heather):

Lorry - Commercial-sized truck

Lift - Elevator

Car park - Parking lot

Boot - Trunk of a car

And one I forgot that I'm quite fond of:
Naff - Adj. 1. Unfashionable. 2. Rubbishy, useless, of poor quality, unappealing.

It's not that uncommon in the states, but I also really like how much more they use the word Daft - Noun. Silly, foolish.

And, of course, Posh - Adj. Of or belonging to the upper classes (also used to describe nice, expensive, or expensive-looking things, or even an attitude, as in Posh Spice). But I need to stop because I could keep going indefinitely...

And then, there is the phenomenally unique way that the people of Nottingham speak, which I have been receiving lessons in from my dear friends Clare and Darren, to prepare me for when I go visit. It was like a foreign language the first time I heard it...

Nottingham slang:

Ay-up midduck? - Hello and good day sir or madam (Now that I know being called "duck" is part of a normal, friendly greeting, similar to "love", "darlin" or "sweetheart" in the south, I find that I quite like it when a seller at the open market asks me, "How many apples, duck?")

How's it guzzin' ? - How are you doing today?/What's up with you?

Arya reet? - Are you doing alright?

Ee, I'm right nesh me - I am a southerner and therefore have thin blood and a higher susceptibility to cold weather (this one is very accurate and useful for me).

So there we are. Six months worth of British-talk, and I am sure I am still unwise in the ways of the full English vocabulary. I believe it was George Bernard Shaw who so eloquently put it, "England and America are two countries separated by a common language." Too right they are!

An adventure of castle-tastic proportions.

You can't swing a dirty tube sock in this country without hitting some kind of historic building. They are everywhere - churches, castles, pubs, houses - I would wager that there are entire towns which predate all of U.S. history. Often, when the foundations for new buildings are being constructed, they will hit some previously unknown ruins or artifacts which require the archeologists and historic societies to come in (who you gonna call? Hist-OR-ians!) to preserve or excavate the most important bits before they can proceed with the build. I guess that's what happens when a society exists for thousands of years on one island - the deeper you go, the more layers of history you encounter, kind of like a big English onion. Or not.

What that means, though, is that there is something to see and tons of history to explore no matter where you are in the UK. A few weeks ago, my flatmate Nick had a car for the weekend, and we decided to take the opportunity to embark on a castling adventure - which we could do without even leaving Leicestershire! The giddy excitement of my first close-up castle encounters resulted in about 200 photos (don't you just love digital cameras?). I tried to pick out just a few to post, but it was hard to narrow it down (consider yourself warned). Yes, I got a bit carried away... but they were real-life, honest to goodness CASTLES people. So cool...Our first stop of the day was the "Ashby de la Zouch" Castle, or the ruins of said castle. It was originally built as a wooden manor house in the 12th century, but was later expanded and redone in stone by Alan la Zouch, achieving "castle" status in the 15th century (a medieval castle, this one).
Once the Zouch family line ended, the castle changed hands many times. Often (much more frequently than one would like to imagine) this change took place because someone beheaded the owner. Personally, I'd rather have my head than a castle, no matter how many tapestries - or fireplaces large enough that I (or a nice big roasting pig) could fit inside - it boasted.
Especially since Nick didn't really fit...
But then again, I guess he is a bit taller than most medieval people, except maybe the Saxons.
In any event, in 1474, Edward IV bestowed the castle to Lord Hastings (William, to his friends) who built a few new towers and got the thing up to the height of its splendor. Then he went and got himself beheaded as well. Apparently, Hastings was one of the big-wigs under Edward's rule, but when Edward died in 1483, Hastings joined up with Richard, Duke of Gloucester (Edward's brother), against the family of Edward's wife (the Woodvilles).
However, proving to be a bit of a back-stabber, Richard decided he wanted the throne for himself and had Hastings arrested for treason and beheaded at the Tower of London without a trial (probably when Hastings disagreed with some brash and nefarious plan to seize the throne from Edward V, who was only twelve). Richard, who was the young heir's Lord Protector (ironic?), later "escorted" Edward V and his younger brother to the Tower of London for their "safety," - and they were never seen again (the "Princes in the Tower" is apparently one of the great mysteries of English history, as no one knows what exactly happened to them). He had the two young princes declared illegitimate (Edward V hadn't been coronated yet), putting himself next in line for the throne, and was crowned King Richard III shortly thereafter.
He got what was coming to him two years later in the Battle of Bosworth Field, however, when a revolution of Lancastrians led by Henry Tudor (who became King Henry VII) were able to defeat Richard's troops and surround and kill Richard. Then they paraded his naked body through the streets and later buried him in good ol' Leicester. According to Wikipedia, his body may currently reside under a car park (parking lot in American-speak) somewhere in the city. That's what you get for being a power-hungry nephew killer, I suppose. See! Complicated, depraved, treacherous and fascinating history EVERYWHERE. But, I digress.
Back to the Ashby de la Zouch Castle; Richard must have had some small sense of propriety or morality or something, as Hastings' wife and sons were still allowed to inherit his lands and properties (castle included) and Hastings himself was buried next to Edward IV in St George's Chapel in Windsor. Hastings' beheading is famous because it was the first carried out and recorded at the Tower of London. Which is saying something, considering how famous the Tower is for all of its high profile executions, including that of Sir Walter Raleigh (the namesake of our capital in North Carolina), Anne Boleyn, Queen Catherine, Guy Fawkes, and William Wallace.
The castle itself was famous for hosting some very important figures of the time - Henry VII, Charles I, James I, and Mary Queen of Scots (twice!). During the Civil War, it was a Royalist stronghold, but finally surrendered, defeated by plague and lack of food, to Parliamentary forces (after a year-long siege!) in 1646. It had been too strong to storm, so it survived the siege just fine. Only later (1648) did Parliament decide to render the castle unusable by blowing up part of it (the aftermath of which you can see below). Who knows how they could justify that.
We did get to climb to the top of the remaining part of the tower, and the long way up (90 something stairs!) was peppered with all these great little windows for firing arrows out of...
And we got to explore this fabulous dark, damp, and claustrophobia-inducing passageway that led underground for some tens of meters before popping up in the kitchen area. Good for making an escape. Or for pretending to send someone to the dungeons.
All in all, a very nice little trip down English history lane, although it was absolutely FRIGID outside. We found a pub nearby (the White Hart) to have some lunch (I had an absolutely delicious chicken/bacon/cheese/BBQ sauce sandwich... YUM) and warm up in, and then headed out through the English countryside on our way to castle number two. We didn't stop at the pub below, but as I come from a family of greyhound owners, I couldn't help snapping a picture as we drove by. There really are some great pub names in this country.
Our second (and final, unfortunately, because it started getting dark and even colder by the time we arrived, around 4:30pm) stop was at Kirby Muxloe Castle. This one is only open in July and August, so we couldn't go inside. That didn't prevent us from walking around the outside of the moat (which was VERY effective in keeping us out, so served its purpose well) and taking lots MORE pictures (which again, I narrowed down).
This one, coincidentally enough, was built by Lord William Hastings (our protagonist from above), or at least commissioned to be built, in 1480. It was originally a stone-fortified manor house, but Hastings decided to turn it into a full blown castle. Sadly, construction stopped in 1483 when he was beheaded. It would have been quite grand had it been completed, but only the gatehouse and one corner tower were finished, as can be seen from this aerial photo I took from a hot air balloon (or as some people call it, the internets).
I was quite impressed with the stone windows (on both castles, actually) and with the fancy brick work. Apparently, the bricks (100,000 of them) were all fired on-site instead of using locally quarried stone, making this build quite unique; it was one of the first brick castles built in England, but also one of the last of its type (the quadrangle design with four corner towers).
And so I decided to claim it for my own. Except I didn't have a flag. (No flag? No country. Those are the rules.)
And so with no flag, and no castle to call my own, we simply walked around and took pictures and froze a bit more.
But as stated, the moat was impressive.
And the ducks looked happy.
And the sky was pretty.
And a good time was had by all. Especially since Nick understands my need to stop for food and drink frequently on any excursion, historic, cold, or otherwise. Our adventure ended next door to Kirby Muxloe at The Castle Pub with hot chocolates and spicy Thai peanuts. And then we went home where I climbed under the covers and pushed the boost button on my thermostat about nine times or so until I could feel my fingers and toes again. Thanks for the adventure, Nick!

And now I'm realizing that I've spent most of the afternoon researching the history of these two castles instead of pollution and resource use life-cycle assessments like I'm supposed to for my current assignment. Oops. This was more fun, anyway. And if you've made it to the end of my impromptu, slightly excessive meander through history, I applaud you. Yay for history! And Yay for castles!

Christmas in Leicester!

Much to my chagrin, I've been so busy with school, final projects and Christmas (really, what gives? Aren't students supposed to have all kinds of free time for carousal and saturnalia?) that I haven't had a chance to post an update in a deplorably long time. And because at this moment I should be diligently working on my Sustainable Development assignment, but am instead procrastinating in blog form, an entry of mostly pictures will have to suffice. My thinking, however, is that a "tour" of the Leicester city centre is long overdue. And what better light to show it in but all gussied up for the holidays? (Warning: academic overload/induced loopiness responsible for following over-abundance of exclamation points) Lights! Camera! Non-denominational snow flakes!

Some psuedo-Menorahs (and half-Menorahs)!

Silvia and I taking a break after class to enjoy the holiday gaiety!

A sphinxy fountain and Christmas Greetings on the Town Hall building!

One of two large city centre holiday trees next to a strange panorama!

An insanely huge live tree covered in fake snow next to the clock tower in the main center of town (oh, sorry, centre)!

More festive lights and the other clock tower!

Authentic German hot mulled wine served from inside a temporarily-erected manger-type building (absolutely delicious by the way)!!

A giant plastic Santa Clause!

Leicester really was quite pretty and convivial at the holidays - I wish I'd had more time to enjoy the multitude of singers and musicians livening up the streets with seasonal music and the array of international stalls set up in the city centre filled with all kinds of yummy-smelling things and potential purchases. I did get to celebrate the traditional Dutch Sinterklaas Day with several of the flatmates, which, according to Amanda (who is from Holland), is sort of like Christmas but different, is celebrated earlier in December, and involves leaving a shoe by the fireplace (kitchen radiator in our case) in order for it to be filled with little gifts (we filled each other's shoes) by the mysterious Sinterklaas (a bishop dressed in red robes and a red mitre, who arrives in Holland on a steamboat from Spain!) and his helpers, the Zwarte Pieten (see below).

Amanda even wrote us a poem (which rhymed! in English!) for the occasion, which is apparently also part of the tradition. I should make her post it. It was cute. Our boots got filled with gifts (don't we have an awesome assortment of boots by the way?) and we got to eat kruidnoten (a type of little gingerbread-biscuit) by the handful. Much fun.

And here are the flatmates (-1): Nick, from South Africa; Zathew, from China; Amanda, from Holland; and me, all in our little dorm kitchen. Lee, the 5th flatmate, was home sick, sadly.

But truly, I can't believe the first semester of school is already over (if I can get these final projects turned in) and Christmas/New Years have come and gone. I had a wonderful time at home over the break - spent time with friends and family, and even got to see a best friend get married. Plus I had access to Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches for a while. I'll put up some pictures soon (not just of sandwiches, I promise). In the meantime, wish me luck finishing up everything for my first four modules: Sustainable Development, Renewable Energy, Energy in Buildings, and Energy Analysis Techniques (yay for nerdy number crunching!). We start the next two, Integrated Environmental Strategies and Resource Use & Pollution, next week. Exciting!

And speaking of exciting, I wonder if I have any kruidnoten left. I definitely have pickles to eat. Did I mention that I smuggled pickles over in my suitcase? Two jars worth in plastic bags. Yum.