Visitors at Christmas

Lucy and Scott are here visiting for Christmas; it has been wonderful to see them and celebrate the holidays together. The younger generation all get along really well together, no big surprise there. Here is a shot of Scott and gang walking in the King's college yard; I think this is the afternoon that they arrived, but nobody seems to be showing the jet lag (they all look very serious, like a group of dons having a philosophy discussion).



Hanging of stockings proved to be an interesting puzzle, since when we rented out house in Cambridge, the one thing we had to promise was to "not put any new holes in the walls". We decided that this should probably extend to banging nails into the mantelpiece, so we had to come up with alternate means of attaching our stockings (I suppose we always could have used duct tape, but that seems like a cop-out). Here is the arrangement we came up with:



Not terribly stable, but it only had to last one morning. The weird-looking thing on the very right had side of the photo is actually a large paper-mache fish that Lydia and I made together; she has mostly finished painting it, so now we need to figure out a better place to display it (maybe hung from the ceiling?).

More Cartooning

Pancake Man is a cartoon character that I fool around with occasionally (I think the first P.M. cartoon that I did was on an airplane while trying to entertain Lydia at some point). Here is a PDF file with the latest episode (sorry for the ads-- blogspot/blogger doesn't accept PDF files, so I had to put the file on a free (ad-driven) image hosting site).

I started this particular cartoon while we were on vacation this fall, then finally cleaned it up and got it scanned in. I also did a "Pancake Man Attends the Family Reunion" cartoon, but alas, that particular piece of paper seems to have been lost during the move to Cambridge. Pancake Man has many admirable qualities, however the chief one from my perspective is that he is very easy to draw-- good for bouncy car rides or cramped airplane seats.

Winter Solstice

Having lived through most of December here in the UK, I think I have a better feeling now as to why the solstices played such an important role for the Druids and other early peoples around here. This past week when I look outside at noontime, the sun is literally only a third or so up into the sky, and it really does start to get dark around 3:45 in the afternoon. You really do notice which spots have a southern exposure and which do not-- it makes a huge difference when it comes to how quickly they will defrost in the morning. There is one school of thought among historical archeologists that Stonehenge was actually built mainly to mark the winter solstice, not the summer solstice, interestingly enough. It certainly seems like a more noticeable event to me (at least at the moment).

Beer, Thy Name Is Legion

The number and variety of different types of beer here is nearly overwhelming; in addition to the zillions of national brands, each region has its own oddball local varieties. Here is a shot from the "Beer Wall" at Waitrose, the local supermarket. Just imagine this same sequence of bottles covering an entire wall for another 10 yards.



At this point I have really only tried a few, so it is hard to draw any firm conclusions about British beer. The ale served in pubs is good, but also rather flat and somewhat warmer than I like it (I realize that it is heresy here in the UK to want your glass of ale served at the same temperature as lager, but so be it).

Here is photo I took while running some errands on Lensfield road the other day (another advantage of biking: if you see something interesting, you can just pull over wherever you want and take a photo). I'm not quite sure why, but there is something about entertaining about this sign...



The UK does indeed seem like a generally more boozy society than the US; there is certainly plenty to suggest this when you read in newspapers and various books about national alcohol consumption habits. If I remember the statistics, the UK has around 60 million people, with something like 60 thousand pubs-- one for every thousand people (sometimes it seems that you can't go anywhere without bumping into a pub). On the other hand, I think the pubs mainly function as a social gathering place, as opposed to strictly a drinking spot. When people bemoan the closing of their local (something that happens a lot) it's not because they go there to drink-- they want to be able to bump into their friends and/or neighbors.

Lydia as Clara

Here is a shot of Lydia performing in the year 3 play earlier this fall, a modified version of the Nutcracker. She landed a plum role, "Clara", which was big thrill for her and resulted in lots of extra attention at school. In all the Nutcracker productions I've seen, Clara is dressed in a nightgown or pajamas, but in this one for some reason she wound up wearing what looks like a formal dinner gown. No complaints from Lydia of course, she enjoyed wearing it.

All things Rugby, including Rugby at Rugby

During the last month, the television has been prominently featuring rugby games from both "Rugby League" and "Rugy Union", the two big international rugby leagues. Ethan, the chief household rugby enthusiast, has been absolutely lapping up the coverage, and I've actually enjoyed watching some of it as well. I am finally getting a little closer to understanding the game, even though I still have no idea what the penalty is when the ref blows his whistle.

The big news in rugby this year has been the meteoric ascent (or more accurately re-ascent) of a major rugby power, New Zealand. The New Zealanders call their Union team the "All Blacks", and they are lot of fun to watch. The very start of a New Zealand match is always worth catching, since when the teams line up on the field, the All Blacks do a traditional Maori dance a ("haka") prior to the start of the game. The haka includes chanting in Maori and various hand & body movements (all the players together); it is designed basically to intimidate the heck out of the opposing team. If you read the translation of the Maori words that they are chanting during the haka, they are not in fact all that bloodthirsty, but if you had to guess the meaning while watching it for the first time, you would probably come up with "We are going to skin you alive, cook and eat you for dinner, then burn your bones", or something like that. YouTube is littered with haka videos; here is one.

Unlike some of the other rugby teams, whose style is very heavy on moving the ball through kicking or by "grinding" it out in the scrum, the All Blacks instead rely on their running game and their ball handling, which is amazingly good. New Zealand also stands out in that they are absolutely ruthless about exploiting mistakes made by the other team-- if the jugular is exposed, they go for it with teeth bared. The pattern for most of the matches that I have seen is that the first half is fairly even, and then after some crucial mistake of one sort or another, New Zealand kicks into high gear and absolutely stomps on the other team for the remaining 30-40 minutes.

Meanwhile, on the more local rugby scene: this past weekend the St Faiths side participated in a "7's" tournament at none other than the original Rugby School, located in (of cousre) the town of Rugby. Rugby is about 70 miles from Cambridge, so it's not too terribly far to drive. Instead of the usual format for the matches (12 on a side, 20 minutes per half) this tournament featured 7 players on a side, with 7 minute halves (very short indeed), but with the same size pitch as usual. Hence: lots of running, with a heavy emphasis on passing and possession (as opposed to kicking). Small scrums, only three players. It was interesting to watch but probably not the happiest match for the St Faiths side, partly due to the weather (it was *really* cold) and partly due to the fact that the other teams participating in the tournament were all rugby powerhouses, so we didn't make much headway. I overheard one of the coaches saying that one of the kids on the opposing team had run a 13.5 second 100 meters, which is mighty fast indeed. On the bright side, Ethan scored his first "try" in a real (non-practice) match, so he got considerably satisfaction from that.

The Importance of Shoe Polish

Weird as it may sound, my life here in Cambridge has led me to appreciate the value of something that I never paid the slightest attention to previously: shoe polish. For most of my life, shoe polish was something that I used at incredibly infrequent intervals; I just didn't wear my dress shoes often enough to ever get them dirty. In fact, the most challenging thing about shoe polish was actually finding the stuff-- I would have to dig through all of my closets and most of the way through the basement in order to locate the ancient and much-neglected can.

Here in Cambridge, however, shoe polish is a critical commodity. Both kids wear "nice" shoes to school, and more importantly, both kids run around outside in the mud and muck during recess getting their (leather) shoes good and wet. Ethan's shoes in particular are a complete wreck by the end of the week; in addition to running around in them, he also plays soccer in them. I have to first dry them out for a day by setting them on the radiator, then when they are no longer soaking, it's time to hit them hard with the black shoe polish. It's actually kind of amazing that it works as well as it does: at the end of the process, you get back a pair of shoes that actually looks somewhat decent, or at least looks something like a real shoe, and not a muddy/soggy lump. This phoenix-like rebirth never ceases to amaze me.

Leaf Paste and Bike Crashes

Now that we are well into autumn, I have to say that the daily bike rides to school are not quite as appealing as they first were back in September. For one thing, because of the shorter days (plus daylight savings), the ride home from St Faiths at 4:35 or is almost entirely in the dark. If you add in cold weather and rain, some of the trips home have been pretty yucky. I have loaded the kids up with reflective vests and bike lights (both clear lights in the front and bright red "blinker" lights in the back), but it's still not easy for them. Meanwhile, the bike path through Llamas Land that was so appealing ealier this year has now become rather treacherous. Here in Cambridge (as in New England) there are leaves falling off the trees, but because of all the rainfall, they begin to decompose almost as soon as they hit the ground, and after a few days they have turned into a sort of "leaf paste"-- even if you went at it with a rake or a leaf blower, I'm not sure you'd be able to do much. It's quite slippery and unpredictable. Both Ethan and Lydia are being very good sports about it, though-- no grumbling to speak of.

The other unpleasant thing that happened recently is that Lydia managed to get into a bike crash with another cyclist while riding to school in the morning (November 12th). There is one section of the ride on Trumpington St just before we get to the school where you actually have cyclists going both directions on the same strip of sidewalk. Not a pleasant thing (there is very little room for error), but the alternative is even worse-- it means crossing the street and using the combined bus/cycle lane. The bus drivers around here are a completely ruthless lot when it comes to cyclists (they don't really have any choice, since there is almost never enough room for them to swing out into traffic to avoid a bike). No way, no how would I ever let Lydia ride with the buses, and from what I have observed, virtually all of the kids who cycle on Trumpington do the same thing.

Anyhow, while riding along on the bike path, Lydia got a little too close to the oncoming cycle traffic and collided head-on with another lady coming in the opposite direction. I was worried at first that there might be a serious injury, but to my surprise, Lydia and the other lady picked themselves up, and there were no broken bones and no blood. At the time I said to myself "Whew", but at that point the other lady got her breath back and she really lit into me. She started with a long diatribe about how I needed to "control" my "incompetent" daughter, then enumerated all of the various body parts that were sore or bruised (rolled up her trousers to display her knee to me [nothing brusied or bloody that I could see]), then complained about her front basket (the top part had been dislodged -- easily fixed) and her fender, then grumbled that she had "just had her bike in for servicing", went back again to scold me some more about how I was "irresponsible" in relation to my daughter, etc etc etc. It was very unpleasant. Lydia of course was in tears the whole time; she said "I'm sorry" to the lady several times, but the lady was too busy complaining to respond. As a final measure, she insisted on getting my name and address (which I gave to her). I wasn't sure whether I would ever hear from her again, but sure enough, I got a letter in the mail repeating some of the nasty things she said on the 12th.

After the letter, which arrived in mid-November, I haven't heard anything more from the bike crash lady. We actually see her periodically during the morning bike rides now, on same section of the sidewalk as before. I am pretty sure she recognizes me as well (although she is careful not to make any sustained eye contact...). Our routine now for this stretch of the ride is that I ride in front of Lydia and she cycles close behind me-- hopefully if there are any more bike crashes to be had, it will be me doing the crashing and not her. Lydia doesn't really talk too much about the bike crash, but when she does, she has taken to referring to the other lady as the "woman who doesn't like children".

Guy Fawkes

In the USA, fireworks are a summer thing, but in the UK, November (Guy Fawkes day) is fireworks month. Unlike many areas of the US, fireworks are sold legally to the general public (they even had them in the local Tesco's), so you hear a fair amount of booming and banging in the weeks leading up to the day and before and after the day. I kind of like the idea of a holiday that is entirely given over to things that burn and blow up in interesting ways-- there is no flag waving, no historical lectures about this or that: it's just straight fireworks and bonfires, thank you very much.

The celebration in Cambridge was held on Midsummer Common, which in the north part of central Cambridge just south of the Cam. I was a little apprehensive about biking into the city at night through the big crowds of people, but in fact it wasn't a difficult ride at all, and the crowds were (for the most part) very well behaved. The display was lovely. It was a little foggy, but we were able to get close enough that we could see everything. Here is a short video from the outing.