DAY SEVENTY ONE - going, going . . . . . almost gone

Not really any adventures to report today (Whew, I practically need a breather from all my adventures. Can’t believe I’m saying that!), except that I’ve been living on my own for one month now. Hurray! Did go out to the bank, however, to get me some money (You know how it works, right kids? You go to the bank, you stand in front of the nice person behind the glass, and then they just hand it over. As simple as that!) so I could cough over my rental payment that’s due today. Oh, man, that’s the one time when the difference in the value of money, between the dollar and the pound, REALLY stings. Ouch!

Finally met Phil(ip) the younger today. (He arrived this weekend when I was off to Wales.) He is young graduate student who is helping to fill out the house by settling in as the final lodger – in the last available room, living below me on the 2^nd (or would it be 1^st, seeing as how this IS England and all?) floor. (Just checked with Phil who is in the kitchen washing up {like my host in Grimsby, he also does NOT rinse his dishes when he washes them. Ooee, straight out of the soapy water onto the drain board.} and he informed me, no equivocating, his room is on the 1^st floor. Heck, you know what that means, don’t you?! It establishes that I only live on the 2^nd floor – and that doesn’t sound half as magical as the 3^rd!)

Anyway . . . Phil; he comes from Scotland, but unlike any other Scot I’ve EVER known (yeah, like I have VAST experience in this area) – you know, like Sean Connery, for instance – does NOT have a romantic Scottish twang. In fact, there is pretty much nothing romantic about Phil altogether. I knew that he was beginning his upper level studies, so I assumed he would be a little older – twenty-two, he reported. Somehow that seems just SO young to be starting  graduate work, but I suppose, since we are used to graduate students in our Mormon world being several years more mature for a number of reasons, I suppose the early twenties is the usual age to complete an undergraduate degree in the regular, outside world of men. Here – this will help you form a good picture in your mind when I say that Phil studied mathematics as an undergraduate, and now is delving into the intricacies of meteorology. Enough said? Get the picture? (Actually, I’m quite excited about that. Weather! Now we’re talkin'!!)

Likewise, yesterday evening, the senior of the two Philips also arrived at the house, back to inhabit his hobbit room in the hallway next to mine. (We are ALL here, yes! I am very happy not to be “on stage” like I have kind of felt somewhat, what with only me and Myfanwy rattling about in 94 Oakfield Road.)  It is as teeny as teeny, but . . . it DOES have a sink! Philip, the professor of the two, is in Birmingham during the week, leaves each morning early and is gone till later into the evening. In a usual week I first get wind of him on a Tuesday evening and he is gone again by the time classes end on Friday, at which time he hightails it out of here, back on home to his family in Cambridge. That’s three night – suits me just fine.

[We lodgers are in charge of seeing about our own bathroom. You know who that leaves for latrine duty, don't you? because you know they won't be doing it!]

Our autumn continues to be very blustery. (Did you know that “wind is what you feel when different temperatures of air are in motion?!” I like that simple definition. Philip the younger did NOT tell that to me.) I have the kind of windows where blowing wind makes that sort of howling sound. I like that, too. Definitely had to wear a jacket out on my jaunt today. It was in the upper fifties, will drop down into the 40s during the wee hours. Autumn is here; leaves are slowly turning – not dramatic changes like in Utah, so far. We’ll see what the rest of the season brings. I’ll let you know.

Seeing as the concept of flowers will soon come to an abrupt end, in honor of the passing of summer I thought I’d share some of the beautiful blossoms I have been collecting – on film (well, actually, I guess I mean on disc). Sorry, but I’m not going to try and name them – (‘cause I don’t know what they are!).

Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,

For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,

And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,

And love is burning diamonds in my true lover's breast;

She sits beneath the whitethorn a-plaiting of her hair,

And I will to my true lover with a fond request repair;

I will look upon her face, I will in her beauty rest,

And lay my aching weariness upon her lovely breast.

The clock-a-clay is creeping on the open bloom of May,

The merry BEE is trampling the pinky threads all day,

And the chaffinch it is brooding on its grey mossy nest

In the whitethorn bush where I will lean upon my lover's breast;

I'll lean upon her breast and I'll whisper in her ear

That I cannot get a wink o'sleep for thinking of my dear;

I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away

Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.

                                                                                                    John Claire – Summer

Photos_

1- now that’s what I like to see - nobody home . . . but me! (The first day Jesse brought me to the house where I would eventually live, he showed us how everyone in the house had a card that indicated if they were in or not. Of course, at that point, having no idea what that was all about, I thought, well, that's dumb! Now that I live here and understand how the security alarm system works, it all makes sense. The last one to leave is always responsible to turn on the alarm, while the first one in or down (as the case is in the morning) is responsible for turning it off. The cards make it possible to know one's staus at a glance. Also on that first exploratory day with Jesse, there was a lodger living here whose name was Hay-soos, or more exactly, Jesus. We tried very hard not to be sacrilegious and guffaw over the sight of "Jesus In" and "Jesus Out.")

2- now that's a hanging basket!

3-7- formal beds in parks and at public facilities. Thanksgiving Point Gardens, you’ve got nothing on these splashes of color . . . and besides that, they’re free, for all to see! (I’m definitely signing up to renew my membership!)

8-11- domestic loveliness (move over, Howard!)