Oh, Happy Day. . .

Happy Halloween!

2005-11-01T23:10:00.000-07:00

So much to do, so little time

2005-08-15T00:48:00.000-06:00

Hi-
I wanted to update the webpage once more before we come home, but it occurs to me that it's not the best use of my time at this point. I've got places to go, people to see so these few photos will have to suffice. We leave here in exactly one week and, while I have been blessed to be able do a really really lot of great things, there's still more I want to see and so I've got to get busy.

A car on Portobello road

Caught in the rain at Camden Town

Canterbury Cathedral

Dover Beach

They look as if they were dropped off the walls of the castle. . .

The one family photo in all of this--Sissinghurst

Berkeley and Jenny at Sissinghurst

Self Explanatory

Hogwarts!
Great Hall

Hospital Wing (Bodleian Library)

BYU info girls

Berkeley and Seraph watercolouring

Close your mouths girls, you're drooling on your shirts. . .

Andy took this photo in Kensington Gardens

Rabies anyone?

And a grand time was had by all. . . (Rob would like everyone to know that he's not in fact smiling, but that his facial expression was an attempt to ruin the photograph.)

Once more, with feeling

2005-08-10T03:20:00.000-06:00

So Andy and I were on the tube last Saturday on the way to see the Docklands. (Whatever that is, that's why we were going there.) We had just transferred to the Jubilee Line and gone about one stop when the announcer came on and said that there would be a slight delay as there was a package left on our train and they had to check it out. Harrumph! I'm glad they are careful and everything, but I thought, "Great, a delay." I noticed a tall guy in the corner of our car quickly look around and get off--he seemed sort of sly rather than nonchalant. I thought, "Does he know something I don't know?" Then I thought, "Yeah, he's probably been on a train where this has happened before and he knows the drill and knows that they will probably be overcautious and close everything down and everyone will have to find a different route to where they want to go and he'll have the jump on all of us." But I admit that my second thought was, "What if he's the one who left the package and he's getting away, should I have taken his picture?" (My camera is always around my neck ready to go.) Then I tried to see if I could replay the scene in my mind to see if I could remember anything about how he looked in case I was ever asked--I couldn't. Then I was kind of kicking myself for letting my mind wander like that when suddenly a huge reality check happened . . . A policeman came running from the next car and shouted, "Everyone get off the train right now-RUN!" Whoa! What a shock! Andy and I, like everyone else, just flew off that train and on to the platform--I couldn't believe how fast raw instinct took over. The people were quite amazing--almost everyone was calm. I can remember hearing someone wailing but for the most part no one even spoke. I just kept trying to keep my eye on Andy. After we were all off the train that quick the same immediate thought must have popped into everyone's head, "If there is a bomb right there and it blows up, we're still in a mess of trouble, it's time to mostly panic and run." That's when the policeman then shouted, "Don't run, stay calm, and exit quickly." Now that's much better. I then had to replay his first instructions in my head to see if he really had said run--because we all know that that's dangerous and practically illegal in America, like shouting, "Fire!" in a theatre. I say practically illegal, because if there really were a fire it would be okay to shout it out, right? Guess what? He really did shout, "RUN!" and I'm sure he meant it. After the first bombs hit, we were on the bus in Oxford and we all listened to the news reports on the radio and they were interviewing a guy who had been at one of the bomb sites and he talked about how he had been in the military for years and had learned to hear that little something in someone's voice when they are afraid or when the situation is desperate and that the announcer on his train had that whatever-it-is in his voice as he tried to get people to evacuate quickly but without saying why--he said he could just tell something was horribly wrong. That's just how it was in the split seconds of this policeman's voice first shouting out--it was like he bore the weight of the world and was trying desperately to save us from what he was sure was a bomb. His voice had the sound of real authority and true caring mixed together and it was very powerful. And people responded.
You know when Alma says, "Oh, that I were an angel"? With some people, you wish you could have a voice to shake the earth--to have the right mix of authority and caring so that the hearer would get the message and do the right thing. Does it take a bomb threat? It is so terrible when you can see clearly a situation that is very dangerous for someone and yet you know they won't listen to you or heed what you have to say. What can you do? Last night the kids were all in our flat and we were talking about what to do when someone you care about is headed straight for trouble and you know it but they won't listen or even believe you and I had this worrisome thought and said to Berkeley that we needed to establish a code word so she would know that if I ever said it to her it would mean she was in danger but she didn't know it and wouldn't see it but that I was sure of it and that she would just have to believe me and act accordingly. That her new brainwashing-bad-for-her-control-freak-love-interest-who-would-be- devastating-to-her-future-happiness needed to go and then she would be able to snap out of it and steer clear. Do you think that would work? She said no. Well, I'm telling you right now that I'm not giving up that easily, that there's got to be something I can say to penetrate the thick skin of my offspring. It will have to be a word they understand, but one I never say--it can't be a powerful word, or even a caring or emotional one, I will have already tried that. No, it has to be the ultimate word of warning, while at the same time meaning I know you don't believe me, but trust me on this--the other thing about it is that I have to be sure I'm right--or do I? Was the policeman sure he was right? No. In fact, we never heard anything on the news about it and had there been a bomb found on a train I think it would have come up, but whatever it was that made him get that thing in his voice is what I want to be able to have when my children need it. Or have I used it up on stupid stuff that doesn't matter--has the intensity of my voice when I'm bawling them out for something trivial already robbed me of my ability to communicate when it really matters? We call it rancour around here--I can't seem to make it go away when I feel strongly about something--it always betrays me.

The answer is perhaps somewhere in the thing President David O. McKay said, something like, "Never yell at your children--unless your house in on fire."

We are experiencing technical difficulties

2005-08-09T09:18:00.000-06:00

Hi--
Just a quick mention of a hitch in the get-along. My juliema email has been abruptly but more problematically, without warning, cancelled. (Could it be that I no longer work for the people who supply it? -- That, dear reader, is a blog for another day. . .)
So if you've sent me anything lately, I didn't get it. From now on, please send things to:

magleby@gmail.com

There's another blog on the way if I ever get a minute on the computer--we used to have free wireless internet access on our other 2 computers thanks to someone in the area named netgear but he either got tired of us hanging on and got a password account or he moved away--why do I say he? Maybe it was a she, though I doubt it 'cause a she would have probably named herself suziegirl or something. Anyway, now that we're down to one computer it's hard to get a turn, so it may be awhile. I have some fun new photos to add to magleby.com as well so stay tuned.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled program. . .

The Grossest Thing in the History of Ever

2005-07-30T14:05:00.000-06:00

This story is just too gross to be told out loud, I can only blog it. The one redeeming part of the whole thing is that in the middle of all the grossness, the overwhelming hideousness, the unbelievable nausitudiness of it all, a little thought popped into my head that provided my salvation, "this would make a good blog," and here we are. This story is true and not for the faint of heart.

The group got up early this morning and headed off to Kew Gardens and points south. I, however, wasn't feeling too well so opted to stay home and rest. At around 11 o'clock I started to feel a little better and my back was hurting from my crummy bed so I got up and decided I could just walk over to Portobello Road and take pictures and buy a treat. It all started out so well—good weather, lots of crowds, fun conversations to overhear, the corgi lady was there with her camper in her full glory (“a dog is for life, not just for Christmas”) and the grumpy guy who yelled at me for taking photos of his fruit last week had his back to me and was very busy so I could take all the photos of his better than average produce that I wanted. I had walked almost the entire length of the road taking all the detours I felt like taking, (something you can never do if you are there with someone else) and I was out in front of a place I had wanted to get a better picture of but in the past had been intimidated by the presence of the owner always out front—which is normal for restaurants around here, there is usually someone out front beckoning you to come in and eat, but this guy seemed particularly menacing and grumpy about the fact that I had a camera around my neck so I had never dared get close to his building and take any pictures. Well there was enough of a crowd to keep him busy but not too many as to block my shots so I was all set.
Now I need to digress just a little bit here to tell you something Berkeley Frances had to say after living here about a week. “You know,” said she, “they should just feed all the pigeons to the homeless people—that would solve two problems.” And this from THE animal lover of the universe. It kind of tells you a little something about the potential for a different kind of bombing that goes on around here that doesn’t make the headlines. (Although if there had been a news camera around, this probably would have) yes, yes, I believe you are starting to get the picture as it were. I’m near the walls of a building framing a shot, holding still, and SPLAT!!!! Now I need to tell you something else at this point, once when I was in Italy pigeons bombed me 3 times in the same hour. It was, in fact, the first, second, and third time it has ever happened to me. It was gross and unusual but I got over it and now, if it happens to anyone and I’m around, I tell them of that fateful day and how I’ve learned not to linger under ledges where there are pigeons present and I pretty much shrug it off and tell ‘em to get over it too, I mean, come on, how bad can it be?
Well, I’m about to tell you. If you are eating anything at all at this point, you may want to come back later . . .First of all, when it hit I was quite startled, it wasn’t like when something drips on you and you feel a little something and wonder what it was, no, this was a life event. My first thought was that someone had thrown a bucket of water/slop on me as a cruel prank or as payback for taking a photograph. I barely dared to look up for fear of seeing someone leering mockingly down at me, or worse, getting more of it in the face. But you know, sometimes pure instinct just takes over so I looked up and sure enough, there were lots of pigeons all in a row just having a lovely afternoon. This next part is kind of like slow motion—it lasted forever. So what does one do when something unexpected like this happens? First, I took stock of the situation—I knew it was bad because of how heavy the thud/splat felt, the question now remained, how bad? Well, let’s put it this way, the three hits I took back in Italy didn’t even add up to a tablespoon, this was probably a full cup and I am not kidding. I could feel the warmth of it on my head and I could also tell that it had hit my shoulder right at the spot where my sweater and white dress meet my neck and that not only had it hit said sweater and white dress, it had begun to slide down my neck, under my collar and ooze down my back on my skin! I am beyond grossed out and I haven’t even begun to comprehend the status of my hair. I am vaguely aware that there are people around me, but none of them seem to be reacting in any way—which was just fine, thank you very much, because if there had been any students with me they would have surely reacted and then there would have been a scene and I really wouldn’t have wanted that. Small favors. Notice I didn’t say tender mercies. Meanwhile, I’m standing there frozen in place trying to think of what to do. (This next part is the juiciest and when I say juiciest I mean the grossest moment of my life to date.) In fact, after I tell this part, the story kind of goes down hill, I mean, I did what I could and then walked a mile or so home and took a shower end of story -- so I guess I’ve saved the middle part to tell last, are you ready? The only thing I could think to do was to make use of my already awful (and thankfully worn today since it was slightly cloudy—a true tender mercy) sweater. So I eased out of it as best I could while constantly thinking to myself, “don’t get it on your hands.” I knew I had to do something about my hair and I had made a small purchase so I had a plastic shopping bag with me; my thought being that I could sort of wipe up my hair then put the sweater in the plastic bag, so I proceeded to find a ‘clean’ corner of my sweater and put it up to my head to try and clean myself up. Did you feel a little queasy when I mentioned the part about when it started sliding down my shirt? Well, brace yourself. There is no describing the sensation that hit me as I put the sweater to my head. When I made contact through the thick fabric, I felt my hand just slide around in a deep, deep puddle of warm goo. I couldn’t believe it—there was soooooo much muck that that pigeon should be in the Guinness Book of World Records! I mean, how can it even be possible? Can 10 pigeons let it loose all at once? Was there some kind of pigeon chain gang assigned to clean off the ledge making it safe for all pigeons everywhere? Nothing could have prepared me for that horrible feeling—oh, and did I mention the smell? The motion of trying to clean it up must have activated it somehow and that’s when I began to gag. I’m standing there in the middle of Portobello Road covered in poop and I can’t stop retching! That, my children, is what we call going from bad to worse. My eyes were bulging, I started to sweat, the nausea was building, my body was involuntarily shuddering, while all the time I was thinking, "don’t make a scene, don’t get noticed—someone might try to help and then what will you do?" To me the only thing worse than being alone with no good resources, would have been to have someone notice me and offer to help—then my mortification would have been complete, I would have had to die on the spot. The only thing I could think to do was to just get out of there and get home as fast as possible. The second thing I thought was, as I mentioned at the beginning, that this would make a great blog, was I right?

Praguetastic!

2005-07-28T09:57:00.000-06:00

Hi All,
We're back in London and although the trip was wonderful, it is good to return to almost routine. Berlin was great--the highlight for me being visiting the Monument to the Murdered Jews of Europe.
We had seen it last year as it was under construction and I was glad we got to go back--it is really something--the title is so honest and terrible. Berlin has an awful lot of history and with it a lot of baggage. I met a kindly older man from the east side and he spent 2 hours telling me how everything about the re-unification was unfair to East Berlin and how Marx and Engels were great men and how he wishes it could all be like it was before--I didn't know what to say to him--it made me sad. Another huge treat was visiting the famous Berlin Zoo. I took tons of photos and had such a great time--it was fun to see Berkeley get so excited about so many mammals in one place--she misses all of her beloved pets so much. Another worthwhile thing we did was to wait in the line to go to the top of the Reichstag building. The dome is a giant kaleidoscope-type thing that is really cool--a photography lover's dream. We had a lot of fun setting up photos in the mirrors. Another noteworthy event was an amazing meal shared with Joe and Melinda, Gary and Jennifer, (the other teachers at the Centre) Tony and Tina, the resident directors in London, and Chelita Pate, (the Coordinator of Study Abroad in Provo who happened to be in town.) She had learned about a famous restaurant that was the oldest in Berlin (from some time in the 1600's) and we ate ourselves under the table--a good reference for a restaurant is such a valuable thing in a new city--eating can be so stressful and grocery stores, while interesting, just don't cut it after awhile.
Then we went on to Prague, one of the most beautiful cities in all the world. I took hundreds of pictures but they just can't quite show how amazing it really is. There are some super touristy spots, but once you break away from those, it's peaceful, clean and still beautiful. One night I just started walking and I found block after block of gorgeous buildings and charming window displays and the only thing that would have made it better would have been if the sky had not been clouded over the whole time, thus making all my photos not quite as picturesque as I would have liked.
Sadly though, that's where we found out that London had been bombed again. First we thought the worst, then we heard it was a lame copy-cat attempt and we relaxed a bit, but now that we're home and have access to the news, it is really unnerving. Jennifer and I were on a walk yesterday and we came across this t-shirt:
and while it's a great sentiment, I do feel nervous, and I will continue to do so until the other 3 are caught. Knowing that they are still out there and their intent is to kill as many people as they can, is a terrible thought. On the other hand, Scotland Yard is really something--they have worked around the clock and they have found out so much already, that I am quite confident that they will catch them and not only that, Tony Blair does a good job of talking about it and explaining the bigger picture and he says really reasonable, sensible things and answers hard questions and I look to him as a good example of what a politician should be like--he doesn't shrink from the hard stuff and he is articulate and he can really think on his feet. Politics are so different here--there doesn't seem to be as much spin and it's feels less staged. Anyway, life goes on and our trip is nearing a close. We will have to start thinking about the real world again soon and while I look forward to it, the pace when we get home will be swift and I hope we're up to it. That's all for now, tomorrow we go to the London Temple and next week we go to Dover and Sissinghurst and that will be our last big day out. Later. . .

Finished the Book

2005-07-17T02:06:00.000-06:00

We're speechless

Countdown

2005-07-17T01:29:00.000-06:00

So I'm just new enough at adding photos straight into a blog that I did it in the reverse order. To tell the story, start at the bottom. . .

About to start reading. . .

Here they come! (It was perfect weather and they put all the pre-ordered books outside on a table--we had them in our hands by 12:05.)

Goodbye Oxford Street, we're off to the local bookstore now.

Snape, you are beneath contempt. . .

Lots of the students dressed in black and arrived in a group--they caused quite a stir.

Andy consented to one photo. . . Rob did not. He was there though.

Right after he shook hands with Berkeley.
Berkeley was front and center and has just shaken Hagrid's hand.

All dressed and someplace to go. . .
Leaving for the party. . .

This is it!

2005-07-14T23:55:00.000-06:00

The moment we've all been waiting for . . .So anything you might want to say to any of the Maglebys you had better say within the next 10 hours. We have our schedule planned to the minute, are you interested? First thing this morning we clean the house and we shop at the store so we won't have to work until Monday, back that up, then change it to: So we'll be ready to leave early Monday. (We're going to Berlin and Prague.) This trip, though highly anticipated, has turned out to be ill-timed. Next, I'll post some new photos on the website, which takes me hours because I have taken so many and shining 'em up and naming them is a big job--you may have noticed that the last batch didn't have names after awhile, because I was in a hurry to post them as we were leaving for Oxford and I didn't want to leave you all high and dry. After today, you will be high and dry for awhile because this is the week-long trip with scant access to the internet. When I say scant, I mean I'm too cheap to spend the money on it. But I digress. . .
After we've taken care of all our obligations, we hope to take a nap--sleep is going to be hard to come by in the next 72 hours. Then it's off to Oxford Street and the queue party. (Queue is such a great word--just spell it out loud for fun, and it's a great way of saying go over there and wait in line.) The party starts at 6 and goes until everyone has a book--they anticipate it will take until around 4-or 5 in the morning. We, however, don't have that kind of time so we have come up with plan B. We pre-ordered the book from the shop on the corner and after Dumbledore unveils them on Oxford street and we all have a good cheer, we will hop on the night bus (how appropriate) and hurry to the other bookstore and eagerly collect our copy then dash back to the centre where we will commence reading. (And by 'we' I mean I will read it aloud for any and all interested students who ordered theirs for cheaper on Amazon.com thus being forced to wait until they come in the mail at some point on Saturday.) There is one disappointing part and that is that if we were to actually wait in the Oxford street queue, we could get an official stamp in our books declaring to all the world that we had been there, done that. But since we have such a short time to actually read the book together before Sunday, we have chosen plan B. The Party should be fun though, we can probably skip the face painting part, but they intend to have the main characters and magicians and some kind of mechanized creatures and they have even made special Harry Potter rain ponchos if the weather goes bad.

So after we get back from that we figure we will start reading by around 12:30. (That's 5:30 Friday night for Utah) In an effort to not be ruined for the Berlin trip, we have committed to read only the first 5 chapters no matter what then go to bed and get up at 6 on Saturday morning and finish. Hygiene breaks may or may not happen depending on how long it takes. We're hoping to finish on Saturday because all the students have different church schedules and it will be impossible to accommodate them all. Who are we kidding, if they aren't there the minute the Magleby family gets back from sprinting through the park--here's a thought, they could all carry me on a stretcher so I could read as we walked--I'm not too worried about it, I figure by that point the only ones who will still be listening will be the Maglebys, everyone else will have their own books by then.
Anyway, I've got to get going, in the time it has taken to write this, precious minutes have ticked away from my very busy day. We love you all and hope you have a great week, if you don't like the book, don't tell us, because next week we'll be in withdrawal and we won't be amused. Gosh, I wonder when book 7 will be ready?

We interrupt this program to bring you an important announcement. . .

2005-07-13T02:28:00.000-06:00

I clicked on a comment on Carrie Ann's Blog from someone named zookeenee (I don't know who it is and I don't know enough blogetiquette to know if if's okay to link directly to him) and now you just may never hear from me again . . .
Warning, you may find yourself out of a job or your children might go hungry.
This will kill some time 'til Harry Potter gets here. . .

Just click on the underlined words to get there--have fun!

Play 20 questions with Darth Vader

or play with the Crazy Rabbit

or boss the chicken around

or this is just plain funny

And last but not least, an old favorite of mine, pop the bubble wrap

Meanwhile, Back in London

2005-07-06T03:33:00.000-06:00

Hi,
We’re back and I have been trying to get myself to write about Cyprus—it’s not that I’ve got the “If you can’t say anything nice. . .” problem, though I kind of do, it’s just that I wrote about it on the plane and in trying to explain my rather complicated reaction to the whole experience, I rambled on and on and still hadn’t really said anything in particular that had happened. So if I can ever muster up the energy I’ll tell you more about it—the complicated version that is, the short answer is that we had a great time and the ocean was beautiful. I learned that I don’t need to take a weeklong beach vacation ever again and that I’m not good at hot sweaty and dusty—ancient ruins are picturesque but I don’t have enough background to appreciate them and poor places make me sad—especially when contrasted with the empty feeling of people on holiday spending money at a resort when the town up the hill is run down and seems like it is years behind in terms of development and technology. So I guess I ‘m saying don’t let the pictures fool you, Paphos is sort of ramshackle and depressing, but at the same time, there were some really great things there too. The students were fun to travel with—we had a great time in that regard, and for them, going to church at the little branch there was a great experience (I couldn’t go—I was sick that day) and we had some great cheese and humus and ate a Meze—a sample dinner with lots of courses. It was amazing to be there at the place where the apostle Paul had been—and they even think they have the very pillar where he was whipped with 39 lashes. I think the absolute highlight for me was watching the sunset over the ocean—the sun gets low and the sky is beautiful and it casts that wonderful pink/gold light –that lasts about a half a hour then the sun gets really low and finally you can actually see it move down and down ‘til in the blink of an eye it’s gone—that quick. It was a challenge to try and take pictures – I couldn’t really ever catch the magic of it even though I think the pictures are beautiful and pretty cool. Anyway, see for yourself at Magleby.com—soon—I will post this then get to work on updating the web page, it takes awhile.

We leave for an overnight trip to Oxford tomorrow—looking forward to it. We have about 6 really great places we’re visiting including Blenheim Palace (birthplace of Winston Churchill and used for Kenneth Branaugh’s Hamlet,) and Rousham, the place where Mark found the inscription we used for Hal’s grave.

Thanks for checking in on us—

Bye

P.S. There’s a fun debate going on over at Kacy’s blog—Spiderman needs your help.

Go to http://kasm.blogspot.com/

Gone Fishin'

2005-06-21T17:18:00.000-06:00

Hi
The first term is over--Time flies like the wind, fruit flies like bananas.
We are off for another adventure and won't be back 'til next Wednesday. We played vacation roulette and Cyprus won. We are going to a place called Paphos, south of Greece, north of Africa. Mark is staying in London and though he will be here all alone, he's looking forward to the peace and quiet and the chance to get something done. Evenings might be a little slow for him (though he does love British television) so keep him company by leaving a comment or two, will you?
γιάμας !

Father's Day

2005-06-19T19:06:00.000-06:00

So we went to church today and found out it is Father's Day. It is so easy to lose track of time here. Plus, in our defence, we had a super busy week. It is the end of the first term and we finished strong. So about 2 hours ago I started this Father's Day blog intending to say how much we love all the dads in our life including Grandpas Magleby and Knell with a dash of a tribute to Mark and good neighbors and brothers thrown in, but as I went on to explain why we had been so busy as to not even know it was Father's Day, I ended up writing a travel diary instead, but I'll keep this post named what it is as a tribute to all the wonderful men in our lives and then proceed to never mention them again.
We got up at 1:30 on Thursday morning (well, Mark did, I never even went to bed) and took a coach (one doesn't say bus, as it offends the driver of said coach) to Stonehenge and arrived at 4 in the morning and had the place all to ourselves until 6. What a treat! We were lucky to get the last sunrise reservation you can get before it closes to get ready for the summer solstice, so when the sun rose right on schedule at 5:04 AM, it was almost exactly lined up. It was quite remarkable. We have taken groups there on 2 other occasions and had clouds both times and never saw the sun. A great start to a great trip. We were so lucky with the sunrise and the weather, but it didn't last. In a light rain we had our next great adventure--the Chalk Horse. What a quirky thing that is. The coach driver didn't quite have the vision and drove us all the way to it so that it didn't even remotely look like a horse--just like cement on a hillside, but what a hillside! The first notable thing was the sheep dip everywhere and I do mean everywhere--it was hilarious. So all the while watching our feet we walked over to the edge of this tall hill and were treated to an amazing view and a fierce wind and slick grass such that if you slipped on the wet steep hill, the only thing to do was put out your hands to catch yourself and put them, you guessed it, right in the sheep dip. Then on to Bath and killer chocolate almond croissants--everyone else went for art, architecture and a look at the roman baths--not me, I never forget a good bakery and the one across from the entrance to the baths is my favorite. We tried again with the baths--hoping to come away thinking it was worth the admission price but to no avail, they are still boring. Some would beg to differ, but there you have it. The thing is, we took the group three years ago, and they were nonplussed, so we didn't take last year's group and they felt like they had skipped the main thing you go to Bath for, so we decided to err on the side of tourism and in we went. Live and don't learn. The best thing about Bath is Prior Park. It's an amazing park with the most beautiful bridge in Europe in one of the most picturesque settings ever. Then on to a crummy hostel (just for old time's sake) and at the end of the day, a look at the Royal Circus (home of "Dr. Livingstone I presume" and Benedict Arnold--did I mention that Shackleton lived at 29 Palace Court and we live at 27?) and the Royal Crescent with a tour of Number 1 (if the row houses were stacked on top of each other, it would be the penthouse.) We asked the tour guide if anyone famous had ever lived there and she said no but that Jonny Depp had recently visited. The next day as we left the area the coach driver pointed out Meryl Streep's amazing gorgeous estate. Then on to a hidden treasure called Nunney Castle--so fun! The coach couldn't fit down the narrow road (a recurring problem here) so we all had to walk. It didn't matter, though, because the walk was easy and the town was charming. Then on to Mark's mistress, Stourhead. The weather held and we were treated to the best 18th century garden in all of England. Then on to a house and garden on the way to Salisbury that starts with a W. Owned by the 18th Earl of Pembroke--did I mention he's 27, good looking and single? The students loved it. At Stourhead the gardens are better than the house and at this place, the house is better than the gardens, so this excursion gave us the best of all possible worlds and then we finished up with the famous Salisbury Cathedral with a quick glimpse of the Magna Carta thrown in for good measure. And then, just like Max, we went home and found our dinner waiting, and it was still hot.

A Birthday Tribute for Kacy

2005-06-18T15:25:00.000-06:00

Ahem:
Birthdays
Come
During
Every
Flirtatious
GenXers’
Homecoming
Journey.
Kacy
Likes
Making
Novel
Observations
Pretty
Quickly
Regarding
Stuff
That
Unequivocally
Vanquishes
Witty
Xangas,
Yes?
Zzyxan

They’re Off to See the Weezer

2005-06-14T13:38:00.000-06:00

So the big day has finally come, the kids are, as we speak, at the Weezer concert. They have been waiting for this day ever since they got here, I hope they like it. I hope further, that they come home unscathed. After we bought the tickets, we found out we’re not supposed to go to that part of town. I am more than a little nervous. Did you know that guns are not allowed in London? That’s all well and good, except for the fact that since no one can have a gun, they all use knives instead! Every night on the news there is another grisly report of a stabbing—usually it’s women and children getting stabbed. I’m not kidding either. It really scares me. Right before we came here I read of a brutal murder in a nice neighbourhood just north of us. In broad daylight a man hacked another man to death with an axe in the middle of the street.
So I guess in order to keep my mind occupied until they come home, I’m attempting to come up with something to blog about. I’m home alone as Mark is at his beloved British Library reading to his heart’s content.
Everybody is pursuing what they love. And here I sit. But that’s okay, really, because last night I went through all my latest pictures and named the ones I like best and got them ready to add to magleby.com. That’s more than a shameless plug, by the way, I really don’t know what to call it. It sounds weird if I call it my web page, as though I have a business or am a web designer or something—I’m hesitant to say that in the same way I used to feel funny about referring to where I live as my flat. Note that I said used to—I don’t feel funny about saying it any more and it’s not because I’m cool now, it’s just that it sounds weird if I say apartment. But back to the web page thing; I guess I just solved it for myself, I called it THE web page, as though someone else is doing it and I’m merely a contributor, that works for me. If everyone is off doing what they love, it’s appropriate that I am working on digital photo stuff. I really love taking pictures—now here we go again—I have to say taking pictures rather than photos because I don’t consider myself a photographer. I wish I were, I even sort of plan to be, but as of yet, I’m just a girl who loves to take pictures. And I really do—it’s almost a compulsion. The opposite of Berkeley, who, if you read her blog, has realized too late that she HATES taking pictures. I can remember getting home from Europe last year and actually having withdrawal about not having a camera in my hand every minute. We have a friend named Steve who once told us about how much he loves a baseball mitt; the feel of it in his hand, the smell of the leather, the sound of the ball as he catches it, the wonderful memories it brings to him whenever he puts one on, it was a magic moment seeing him light up like that in talking about something he loved so much. My camera is like that for me, I love how it feels in my hand, the motion of moving the lens back and forth zooming in and out, the pleasing sound of the shutter letting me know I got what I wanted. It feels odd if I don’t have it around my neck as I walk. I see photo ops everywhere I go--it’s a little weird. I am constantly framing things in my view and I love holding the camera up to my eye and looking through it. I love framing flowers through a lens. Mark is sick to death of all the flowers I take pictures of. He’s probably also sick of stopping and waiting for me while I take them, although he never complains and seems nothing but patient. It’s turning me into more of a loner. I don’t like to make people wait for me, but it’s hard to be somewhere in a group and not be free to wander off and take pictures. . .
I have more to say on this subject (it’s practically all I think about) but this is already too long so I’ll sign off and say stay tuned.

To London to Visit the Queen. . .

2005-06-11T10:23:00.000-06:00

OK, it's official, I've seen the queen--you could even say I visited her as I went to her house and all. . .right smack in front of the open gate where she was 3 feet away from me--it's her birthday. Funny how you think you know the words to 'God Save the Queen' until it's time to sing along with everyone else--"something, something vi-ic-tor-i-ous, God save the queen." The crowds were polite and odrerly, the policemen were curteous and a grand time was had by all. And suddenly Fergie's little girls are all grown up, when did that happen?

Where the Knell are you?

2005-06-07T14:16:00.000-06:00

Hello oh family of mine--
Are you out there? Did you notice that we left town? Abraham and Scott, you're off the hook, we've heard from you, but the rest of you. . .Rebecca, school's out--are you going to re-up in the fall? How's that grandbaby? Send photos, Roger thanks for Josh's letters, how are the rest of your kids? Andrea, we both have fast internet, send me a movie, did you know Zina stopped by? Lydia, great to talk to you, send me Caitlin's movie--the one in your email wasn't it, I need the file that ends in AVI--you'll have to shrink it first, ask Nels how to do it. Tell Warner to start a blog, Emma--what's new? Are you working from home? How are the kids? I met someone in Suffolk who said her mom is in your ward--her last name is Smith, Todd-how's the bookstore? Have your kids said anything funny lately? Are you getting excited to come to London? (Bring Ramen in your suitcase, the food here is beyond expensive, it's out of control) Mary, when's that baby coming? What will you name her? It would sure be fun if we could lure everyone into commenting on this blog, then we'd both know what everyone's up to--It could be knell's knews all over again.
How are mom and dad? If they are at your house and you have fast internet maybe you could go to magleby.com and show them some pictures or read them some news--not this grumpy post, but if I ever manage a fun one--truth is, we're all a little homesick. Who'd a thunk it? It's very different when we don't travel all the time--in the past we haven't had any time to do anything except repack and try not to get pick-pocketed, but here, we have a lot more free time, which is good, but we use it to check and re-check email and blogs for any speck of news from anywhere and there's not much out there--thus my desperate plea--Somebody write something! Anything! We say uncle, we're not proud (well, actually, we are. . .But that tells you how bad it is) just seeing your name would do wonders. . .
So there you have it--I love you all, I miss you all and I want to hear from you all and your spouses, kids, grandkids, neighbors, visiting teachers, old flames, whatever it takes to get some news over here.
Okaybye

Mind the Gap

2005-06-04T14:33:00.000-06:00

As one rides the tube one should avoid eye contact with any and all passengers. Alternative places to stare are hard to come by but one can always look at the map and pretend to be studying it--which is silly really, if no one is looking. As a result of all this map staring I have come to learn many of the names of the stops all over town and some of them are pretty good.

So here is my list:

Top Ten Memorable Tube Stop Names

10. Barkingside
9. Dagenham Heathway
8. Chigwell
7. Pudding Mill Lane
8. Cockfosters
6. Finchley Road & Frognal
5. Elephant & Castle
4. Turnham Green
3. Ickenham
2. Mudchute
1. Tooting Bec

Forget Paris

2005-06-01T03:20:00.000-06:00

So I said I'd talk about Paris & here I go. . .

Disclaimer: Having read through this, it's too long and sort of boring, it should only be read if you are desperate and your other favorite blogs haven't been updated in a while. . .

The City of Lights--I never managed to be out after dark so I wouldn't know. . .
Baton Mouche--missed it this time but the kids went and loved it--having done it before I highly recommend it (it's a tour boat along the Seine--do it at twilight.)
Sacre Coeur--we warned the students (several times) about the guys that weave a 'friendship bracelet' after tying a string to your finger and then don't let you go until you have paid them and some of them still got taken--I call it poetic justice.
Napoleon's Tomb--amazing! What an ego! I had heard it was extravagant and monumental but this was beyond anything I had imagined--there is a photo of it on my website in the favorite photos section, it's the gold dome as seen from the Eiffel Tower. The photos I took on the inside don't even begin to capture what it was like. Having said that, it was nothing compared with the modest white crosses at the American Cemetery near Cambridge. Row upon row in straight lines that are so beautiful with every now and again a Star of David or a marker that pointed out an unknown fallen comrade, known but to God. There is a powerful spirit in that well cared for sacred place.
St. Sulpice--happened upon while looking for the Latin Quarter--didn't realize it at first but Mark remembered that it is the church in The Da Vinci Code with the Rose Line. There is a sign there that debunks the stuff in the book and says the P and S stand for something else--I forget what.
Latin Quarter--my favorite place for several reasons--great food being the main one. There is one corner with two shops & identical Greek menus--one is always busy and the other hardly at all--the difference being the proprietors. The one guy is always greeting the passersby with several languages and yummy samples and a big smile and the other guy just stands there looking mad at the world.
Norte Dame--still there, still charming. The gargoyles were great before the Disney cartoon, but the movie has made it so much more fun climb the tower and be standing right next to them. One of them looks like Mr. Burns from the Simpsons.
Louvre--Overwhelming. Mona's got a new room and it's air conditioned--which really helps because there are 3 million warm bodies in there at any given moment. If you want to know about which digital camera to buy, you could hang out there for 5 minutes and see every brand ever made. I personally like the room with the giant paintings by David (da-veed) it feels so very French to say it.
Star Wars--Great fun to be there with a die hard opening night crowd--lots of cheering and a great time was has by all--too bad about the crappy dialogue--I thought he was supposed to fix that. . .One student went along for the fun of the occasion having never seen any of them and said "I kept thinking it was going to turn out all right in the end."
Luggage--by that I mean I've always wondered where the giant Louis Vuitton suitcase is 'cause I was constantly seeing fun photos the students had taken and I wanted one too--turns out it's on the street where Star Wars was playing at the George IV metro stop.
Versailles--still smells like ferret cage and the hall of mirrors is still out of commission and the gardens are still magnificent and I've still yet to be there when the fountains are turned on.
Eiffel Tower--always a treat. Super cold at the top (bad) but much less crowded (good.) The students flew a paper airplane off the top and it went for miles and miles.
Musee d'Orsay--one of my favorite museums. Made even better this time by an exhibit that was so whimsical and wonderful--I'll put a photo on the website.
Pompidou--the fountain off to the side that I love so much wasn't working and the main exhibit was closed so rather a let down.
St. Chappelle--stunning
Pet Stores along the Seine--walking along the river and stopping in to see the puppies and ferrets and roosters was truly wonderful.
I'm racing the clock to publish before we leave for Liverpool and so this suddenly has an abrupt ending and most assuredly typos and the battery on the computer is about to die so I say ta ta for now. . .

London Blog

2005-05-24T16:03:00.000-06:00

"Remember, in London you are never more than 10 feet from a rat."

This is one of the first things Tina told us in the orientation meeting. What a charming thought. . .
So, here we are! Living in London--a day I've known about for 5 years but never really could imagine. We live in a nice neighborhood--Notting Hill, in fact. Our block is across the street from the entrance to Kensington Palace. Best of all, across the street from Kensington Park--a glorious place where I've taken lots of photos already. So far the things that have caught my attention are the dogs, the taxis, the lamp posts and gates, and Portabello Road. Variety and charm.

The weather is different than the other 2 times I've been here in May--It hasn't rained much at all but it is quite cold and much windier than I remember. And the subway (henceforth, called the "Tube"--not because I'm trying to sound fancy like I'm best friends with the tube and I know what the locals call it, but because when I say subway here, I sound like an idiot who doesn't know what things are called. I still can't bring myself to say 'flat' like everyone else--I'm not cool enough.) But I digress, I was going to say that it seems like the tube doesn't smell as bad as before.

The days are flying by--we've already been here 2 weeks. Tomorrow we leave for Paris--looking forward to it--we've never gone via the chunnel so I'm intrigued by that.

So now we're back from Paris--nothing to report about the chunnel--it's like all other train trips in Europe, but the trains themselves are a bit nicer than most. I slept most of the way going and coming and was only vaguely aware of being in the tunel part. I'll write more about the Paris trip later, I just have to get this first blog going so I can quit feeling so bad about not being in touch with anyone--it's overwhelming to try and keep in touch with everyone so I figure this is a way that I (we) can do it that will be easy and hopefully fun for all of us.

So what are blogs anyway? I can't say really, they are just kind of conversations that take place and make life more interesting-- There are several that I love and follow quite diligently, but those are already in progress and this London thing is kind of another subject so I decided to start this one to keep in touch with any and every one who is interested, so come one, come all-- I know you have interesting things to say, let's get a conversation going and see what happens. . .
Feel free to make comments or just hang around lurking. I'm hoping this will inspire some of you to make a blog for yourself that I can add to my 'check-so-and-so's-blog' list.

P.S .
If you are new to this and decide to make a comment, the first thing to learn is that they are not posted immediately--quickly yes, but not immediately so when you post a comment and then don't see it, don't assume you did it wrong and do it over again, it'll post in a few minutes.
Cheers,
Julie

2005-05-16T07:28:00.000-06:00

Have camera, will travel