What it's all really about

I've just read this and thoroughly recommend it.

Some news, finally…

So, I am now BA Hons (Cantab). It feels good :-)
Since graduation, I've been pretty busy one way or another. I spent a week in Dublin with Selwyn Choir (great fun and lots of good music), followed by a few days recording a CD which will appear on the cover of Choir and Organ Magazine sometime this coming autumn.
After that, there was a wedding (!) in Oxford, and I popped across to Switzerland to visit my new job…

Job? I hear you say. Well, I've told various people several different things over the last few months but there is now a definitive plan. Are you sitting comfortably? I will begin…

•Next weekend I move to GENEVA, where I'm spending the next 12-13 months working on youth programmes for the Conference of European Churches. Watch this space for more detail…
My address for the next two (only two so far) months is now on Facebook (as is my new email address if any of you missed out on that). Those of you who can't get it there, I'll send it soon, and if I don't, then nag me.

Meanwhile, if anyone happens to know a) of anyone with a flat/room to rent in/near Geneva
or b) of a decent choir there that I could join
both would be most welcome!

• After that (i.e. in autumn 2009) I plan to do an MA in Literary Translation at UEA. Again, more news later…

PS As for my grandmother's question "but when are you going to get married"…don't even bother watching this space for at least a couple of years ;-)

The "end"

So, I have finished my finals!

*Phew*. Four years, four massive final exams…and now a three week wait to know results. Don't worry, I have plenty to do between now and then!

I was going to write a post about where I'm going next…but I think we'd better not count our chickens before they've hatched, so that one is going on hold for a bit longer…

…

…

…

Selwyn things…3

The Selwyn College ducks. They are very homely in their waddling.

And Gus, of course.

Selwyn things…2

The noise of the lawn roller on summer mornings…

Selwyn things…1

I thought I would start a series on things that I will miss when I leave this place in not very many weeks' time.

• 12.45 on a summer's day: mass exodus from the library followed by general congregation in the gardens with takeaway lunch. Obligatory ice cream for pudding.

What is the world coming to?

There are many many things that indicate (in my opinion) that society these days is in a complete mess. I couldn't possibly begin to list them all. But here is a tale:

Last Monday morning, a nice sunny spring morning such as we hadn't seen for a while, Ian and I set out upon a walk up Coniston Old Man. As we approached the mountains, the sun was glinting off patchy snow up on the tops. Ooh, snow, we thought. On we went, and we had just reached the snow line at the first col, and were considering building a snow cairn, when mist (mist?! but it was a sunny day…) began to roll in. So instead we ate a mars bar, donned some more layers, and set off up a deep crunchy snowy path to the summit. So far, so good. The summit, which we reached at 11am, was pretty snowy, but not too cold–just cold enough for us to be envious of the coffee that another couple of walkers had brought up with them. When the mist blew away, we took lots of pretty pictures of the ridge all covered in snow, and discussed how had there been any more snow up there, we probably would have wanted crampons and an ice axe. Thinking that the way down would probably be quite slippy, we armed ourselves with poles and a slow, steady step, and set off to descend the other side of the mountain (cue "oh, the bear went over the mountain…"). Sure enough, there was even more snow on this side than on the other, such that to start with it was more or less impossible to avoid walking through it, and while lower down it could be escaped, the bits one stepped in were decidedly slippy and not as deep and sticky as the lot we'd met on our way up. As we descended, we met several people on their way up, all of whom were more or less as equipped as us.
At the tarn, half way down and a couple of hundred feet below the snow line, we paused for a break. During this break, three, or perhaps four family groups passed us heading upwards. Of these (let's call them three) groups,
One consisted of two parents and three or four teenagers, wearing trainers, and a waterproof each. The adults had backpacks, presumably with a few other things in.
The other two consisted of adults with ordinary size backpacks the contents of which appeared to be almost entirely picnic. And several children wearing not only trainers but also jeans, with one light layer (non-waterproof) each.

I'm not at all against people going out for family walks, nor against a good bit of adventure (that's what we were there for). In fact, I think that such activities should be encouraged, and are being made more difficult by our rights obsessed, health-and-safety-ist, uberprotective world.

But there's a difference between adventure and blind stupidity, and I wouldn't take myself up a mountain (let alone with snow on), unless I thought I was reasonably equipped for the risks (in this case, survival bag, first aid kit, complete change of clothes, full waterproofs, three jumpers, gloves, proper walking boots, plenty of food and water, map, compass, etc). And I certainly wouldn't take someone else up it unprepared for eventualities that, on this occasion, were bound to involve mist, cold, and a lot of snow.

A thought for Lent 5

My song is love unknown,
My Saviour's love to me,
Love to the loveless shown,
That they might lovely be.
O, who am I,
That for my sake
My Lord should take
Frail flesh, and die?

Here might I stay and sing,
No story so divine,
Never was love, dear King,
Never was grief like thine!
This is my Friend,
In whose sweet praise
I all my days
Could gladly spend.

(Samuel Crossman)

A thought for Lent 4

It's been a busy week. This week, I have:
–Preached a sermon in chapel
–Rowed bumps
–Cut my chin open falling off my bike
–Been to two black tie dinners
–Been offered a place at UEA for next year
–Seen Selwyn The Musical (aka Alice)
–and even, done a bit of work!

And just this evening, got news of some more friends getting married!!
And it's mothering Sunday…
so…
here are today's thoughts:

It is a thing most wonderful,
Almost too wonderful to be,
That God's own Son should come from heaven,
And die to save a child like me.
(W Walsham How)
---

The God of Love my Shepherd is,
And he that doth me feed;
While he is mine and I am his,
What can I want or need?

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
but yet in love he sought me,
And on his shoulder gently laid,
And home, rejoicing, brought me.

Surely thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my days;
And as it never shall remove
So neither shall my praise.

(ps 23, paraphrased by George Herbert and HW Baker)

A thought for Lent 3

Here's one for tomorrow:

For me, kind Jesu, was thine incarnation,
Thy mortal sorrow, and thy life's oblation;
Thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion,
For my salvation.
Therefore, kind Jesu, since I cannot pay thee,
I do adore thee, and will ever pray thee,
Think on thy pity and thy love unswerving,
Not my deserving.

(Robert Bridges/J. Heermann)

A thought for Lent 2

A bit late this week…but here it is.

Then why, O blessed Jesu Christ,
Should I not love thee well,
Not for the sake of winning heaven
Or of escaping hell;
Not with the hope of gaining aught,
Not seeking a reward;
But as thyself hast loved me,
O ever-loving Lord!

(Latin, tr. Caswall)

A thought for Lent 1

I forgot to mention in that last post that for Lent, I have given up complaining. I am also trying to follow the carbon fast, the lent experiment, and love life live lent 2. And now, in addition, I shall try to put a thought a week on here. The first one is one of my favourite taizé chants. We sang it in the Sibiu taizé service and now every time we sing it it takes me right back to that evening. A very spiritual experience. Anyway, it should speak for itself:

Nada te turbe, nada te espante
Quien a Dios tiene, nada le falta
Nada te turbe, nada te espante
Solo Dios basta

Spring sunshine, syntax, singing… and a limp

So what have I been doing, so far, in 2008? Well might you ask. Here we are in the middle of week four of my penultimate term at university, and I've gone silent. Well, here, in brief, is what it looks like:
•Weekends away
Despite the fact that in first and second year I only once managed to escape from Cambridge (except when required to by choir jaunts), this term I have not only a choir weekend away coming up, but have also already been away twice. Number one was to Dublin, where I visited Ernie and met the rest of the cathedral choir, and successfully earned myself a position as Lay Vicar Choral there next year, should I go to do an mphil there (which has yet to be seen).
Number two was to Pangbourne and Oxford, via meeting Emma, Helen and Pete in London. Pangbourne, to meet up with Mylene and see where it is that she's living and working this year–seems rather nice! And then Oxford. Now, it's two years since I was last there (surprisingly) and it has changed a little–on the surface, that is. But in the crisp clear spring sunshine, it was in its full glory and it reminded me just why it was that I never wanted to leave. Plus it was lovely to catch up, if briefly, with claire and pip. Maybe I'll make it over there again before too long…any jobs going? ?
• Work-wise, I'm tied up in finishing that dissertation, of course, but also need to crack on with a lot of essays in french, one on romance syntax, and I've just translated some untranslatable Proust. Mmm.
•Parties with a limp
I've been struggling a bit to get out and about this week because on tuesday (before the legendary pancake party, not after!) I fell up the stairs and did nasty things to my toe(nail). It's getting a bit better now, but it's been restricting my movement somewhat…
•Churchy business
The last couple of days have involved a lot of churchy debates, and one incredibly good sermon given by the dean of king's (but in Selwyn chapel). I won't go into a long rant on here, because other people are much better qualified to do so, but I shall direct you to this http://www.dunc.info/ blog of a friend of a friend of a friend's, who seems to have written something more or less approximating to sense. Maybe I will write more on it when I am feeling more lucid.
• Next year–don't ask me now, but I am thinking about it…which may be what is taking up some of my time when I ought to be writing essays!! More news when there is some. If you spot a job ad that sounds like me, send it this way…
• I also auditioned for the college music prize, went to two plays in the corpus playroom, and a few concerts here in college. And I am rowing and erging more than before because we need to get on to bumps. And I got two punctures in my bike tyres. I've been keeping busy…

Hamsters and Hagelslag

(just to clarify, there were no hamsters, they are for rhetorical effect only)

Better late than never, so a mere month since my visit to Amsterdam, I finally find a moment to write about it. I flew out with Easyjet (terrible, I know, but the government should reinstate student grants if they want us to travel by train) and my first experience of the Netherlands this time round was what felt like a 5km walk through Schipol airport. However, everything in the Netherlands works the way it ought to (with the exception of the ticket machines that, like in France, accept coins or cards but no notes. How silly), and so I found that it was very simple to buy a ticket, walk to the platform, board the train, and be moving in 30 seconds, in the right direction. Perfect. I was amused to discover that what appeared to be the only other passenger in my carriage decided to make a remark to me in Dutch (it was all Dutch to me…) but it didn't seem to disturb him that I just smiled back and said nothing! Ten minutes later I miraculously succeeded in meeting Iain at centraal station, at which point all was no longer Dutch. Phew!
A short walk via China Town brought us to the grand abode that is the Mission House. Therein dwell many (I think there are 8 but they always seem to be more) lovely volunteers who spend their days helping the disadvantaged of Hamsterland, as I like to call it. When I arrived they were drinking port and playing Halli-Galli while listening to the "top 2000" on the radio…it turned out that this was a pretty typical picture of what life in the Mission House is like! Over the days that I lived there I was fully accepted into their little community and enjoyed the amusement of shifting the table footie set, cooking for half an army, eating many oliebolle, and seeing a delivery of a good half ton of bread to their kitchen, not to mention the New Year's Celebrations!
December 31st took us to Utrecht, where we met up with Elise, a fellow EEA3-steward of mine, and then went to find the Miffy museum only to remember that it was Monday, and to get scared off by some rather dramatic fireworks that were emanating from the square next door. However, the little walk was not in vain, beacuse we found a street called A B C…
…I still haven't found XYZ street though…

Back in Amsterdam, we threw ourselves into preparations for the big new year's eve party, which proved an immense load of fun, populated by dutch, french, british, germans, hungarians…you see, everyone who was anyone was at the Mission House Party (well, okay, not quite *everyone*). At about 11 we made a move towards the Dam Square, where we joined 25000 people. It was a bit of a squash, to say the least. However, armed with elbows and champagne bottles we managed to squeeze ourselves a spot from which to view the explosion of festivities at midnight, as well as all the various random fireworks going off all over the place (this is the only night the Dutch are allowed fireworks, and they are allowed, apparently, to do what they like with them). Afterwards the party continued for a good while, and with much fun had by all, despite our somewhat dubious attempts to relieve Zoe's thumb from huge amounts of pain (she'd shut it in a door…).
Sleep wasn't a big feature of that night, but nevertheless, very early (yes, it was early) the next morning I awoke to Iain's jolly announcement that in 15 minutes we were leaving to go to the sea. "Yes, yes…"I reply, then "Eh? 15 minutes?!" Sure enough we went to the sea, the trains weren't working quite as well so it took us an unpleasant 2 hours to reach Den Haag (which, I was reliably informed later by our dutch companions, means "By the Hedge". Silly name for a capital city!). Still, we made it to the beach just in time for Kim and Iain to take part in the Dutch people's ritual dip in the north sea event, and partake in some free pea soup. They joined 9,998 others. Mad mad people. Still, they certainly didn't have a hangover any more after that!
The afternoon was spent wandering around the Hague with Anna-Meta, Marjolein, Kim and Iain, where we decided to write to the Queen and ask if we could come and live in her palace for a while. There wasn't much to do, although we did (luckily) find a nice café that was open for lunch. Back in Amsterdam, Iain and I spent a day being tourists, and visiting the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum and wandering around the lovely streets of Amsterdam. Lovely, if rather chilly for the picnic lunch!

A great trip! I even learnt the odd word of Dutch…

Let's get this clear

It never ceases to amaze my family (certain members of whom are Kingsmen) just how many people misunderstand the nature of the King's Christmas Eve carol service, partly through misinformation (or lack of information) from the media. The most common misconception is that the Television Service entitled "Carols from King's" is the same as the service one can hear if one tunes into Radio 4 at 3pm on Xmas Eve, which it is NOT.

Today, I met an alternative misconception, when someone referred me to this article, saying that it was telling lies because it implied that the service was broadcast live. Well, I had a look, and this article tells no lies because it refers only to the Nine Lessons and Carols, NOT to the TV version. So let's explain:

There are TWO carol services that take place in King's Chapel and are available over the Christmas Weekend via various media. The two services are NOT re-runs of each other, they are *different*.

1. The original service, begun in 1918 (the history of which can be read on the King's College Website), is known as the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols. It is, every year, sung at 3pm on December 24th, to a congregation made up partly of members of King's College, and partly residents of Cambridge City, who queue up for the privilege of attending this service. It is broadcast LIVE by the BBC (on radio 4 and the world service) and is then re-broadcast on Christmas Day by radio 3. It consists of the traditional NINE Christmas bible readings, interspersed by a selection of Choral carols (different every year) and the congregational favourites (which remain much the same from year to year, though not always identical). It is also for this service that the soloist for the first carol is chosen only a few seconds before the chapel goes live to the world.

2. The "other" service is known under the label "Carols from King's" or other pseudonyms. It is recorded in advance (usually around the beginning of December) and is broadcast on television over the Christmas weekend. This is not the same as the radio service at all: not only is it recorded on a different day with a different, invited congregation (and never broadcast live), but it is also a different structure of service, and the selection of choral carols at this service is often (if not always) somewhat different to the Christmas Eve selection.

So, if you watch the TV one as well as listening to radio 4, you will get double the dose of King's. How lovely! But if you are to choose only one, then do make it the live one (on the radio). Ever so much more exciting. Ever so much more REAL.

Merry Christmas…everyone

If you haven't had a Christmas card from me this year it is (probably ;-) ) not because I didn't want to send you one…rather that the sending didn't quite happen. So instead I shall assume that you are all reading my blog, and will take this opportunity to wish you ALL a very happy Christmas!

I come from hevin heich to tell
The best nowells that e'er befell.
To you thir thythings trew I bring
And I will of them say and sing.

This day to you is born ane child
Of Marie meik and Virgin mild.
That blissit bairn bening and kind
Sall you rejoyce baith hart and mind.

Lat us rejoyis and be blyth
And with the Hyrdis go full swyth
And see what God of his grace hes done
Throu Christ to bring us to his throne.

My saull and life stand up and see
What lyis in ane cribbe of tree.
What Babe is that, sa gude and fair?
It is Christ, God's Son and Air.

O my deir hart, yung Jesus sweit,
Prepair thy creddill in my spreit!
And I sall rock thee in my hart
And never mair fra thee depart.

Bot I sall praise thee evermoir
With sangis sweit unto thy gloir.
The kneis of my hart sall I bow
And sing that rycht Balulalow.

16th century Scottish

Medieval jews and queer theory

The reason why I am somewhat incommunicado and busy this vacation is that I am busy working on a rather bizarre and quite wacky dissertation. I shall tell you more when it is finished!

Chez moi

Finally…I returned to Lyon. And it felt like going home! As the plane (yes, sorry, when I have a salary I will take the train…) came in to land, it was like I'd not been home for months and finally this was it. Funny, really, since it is a foreign country and my friends and flatmates from last year (not to mention the flat itself) have largely moved on. That aside, Claire and I had a wonderful few days enjoying this year's Fête des Lumières, wonderfully hosted by Alexia and Iole, and with a scrumptious dinner care of mathieu keegan and greg…we also saw Alexia's latest play, and met up with several other friends. It was lovely. That is the main point. There came a moment, sometime, when Claire said to me, Where is your home, really? (we were talking, predictably, about Oxford at the time) and I had to admit, I don't really know any more. Oxford is–and isn't; Cambridge is–but which Cambridge more? –and now Lyon? How many homes can one have? I remember once having a conversation with Pipsi, well a "discussion" because she was holding out the view that unless one had really "lived" in Oxford (by which she really meant grown up there) then Oxford could never by your home; I disagreed and said that once you'd been there three or four years as a student it would probably be just as much your home. But maybe there's only ever one home that can make you homesick, and is that a house-home, a town-home or a people-home, I wonder?

An ode to the river Cam

If you had seen me on saturday of 8th week you would have observed me wearing a t-shirt that read:

Selwyn 1st ladies' novice VIII 2007
"Like a first boat, but in miniature"

Yes, it's true…I finally "succumbed," as they say, and rose to the challenge that had been tempting me since second year, of combining being a linguist and being a choral scholar with being a 'boatie', so this term I noviced, while seeing how long it took people to notice (quite a while, for those I didn't tell!). Yes, it made life rather more hectic than I'd have liked at times, but I fit it in, and it was LOTS of fun. NW1 were an excellent crew and we did really well, coming 8th in clare sprints and 9th overall in Fairbairns at the end of term.
I have finally understood why so many people give up their sleep time in order to freeze in a small contraption on the Cam…of course, non-rowers still think I am insane and have just caught the rowing bug…well, if that's what it is, I think I'll hold onto the bug for a bit longer thanks :)

On being a fourth year…

Rather unsurprisingly, it has been a whole Cambridge term since I last wrote here (only two more to go!). It's been a long, busy one–but also one of the most fun. Where to begin? My grown-up fourth yearness might have to spill over into more than one post I think!
Work wise, term has been relentless, starting with the panic that accompanied the part II oral exam followed reasonably closely by the project deadline, all muddled up with a good dose of the start of new courses. It settled into that lovely 2 or 3 essays a week rhythm, where it sat for the rest of term fully ensuring I feel less ready than I might to write my dissertation over this vacation (which must be done). That said, all papers and suchlike are proving interesting and I seem to understand most of the complex psychoanalytical theory that now accompanies them so all well so far. Choir has been going well…if a little dull at times (particularly the last couple of days learning a whole load of new music for a recording after xmas…).We're losing our dean of chapel now and getting a retired bishop to replace him for the next two terms, which will be superb. Meanwhile this last term I've been serving in Trinity chapel on Sunday mornings a few times, it's been nice to get back into serving a bit and getting out of the Selwyn bubble a bit more than usual (plus, they do sing quite well there…;-) ).
Of course the most remarkable thing about this term has been going back to university life after so long "outside the bubble". At first it seemed very strange indeed, we linguists were keen to get back into doing something a little more intellectual, after quite a decent break from the pressures of tripos…but we weren't quite so sure about the whole collegiate bubble. Coming back early to face exams wasn't a great way of breaking us into it, and it was daunting seeing the number of unfamiliar faces around college-really did feel like we shouldn't be there any more! Yet once we'd got into the fourth year mould, things got off to a really much better start. I went and pretended to be a fresher (rather successfully!)for the usual first night in the bar…and managed to meet quite a lot of second and third years, which was great! Also met lots of linguists in that first week, and one of them very aptly observed much later in term that the fourth year linguists (or the "F" crew as we are sometimes known now) have this wonderful laid back "je ne sais quoi" aura about us, and it really is quite true: despite having a lot of work, we seem to manage to care an awful lot less about it–no, that's not fair– to *stress* an awful lot less about it, than we did in second year. It's work we have to do, and we do it…and then we get on with life as best we can. We've had some lovely girly friday evenings with a bottle of wine, and although we've also been working hard, we've had time to get to know this year's college community a bit, in our new role as great-grandmothers. It's been tiring, it's been hard work, it's felt very very strange at times–but it's been a very good term, and culminated in what I think was the best snowball of my selwyn career, so I am enjoying fourth year. Let's see what the rest of it brings along…
I'm off to Lyon on Saturday morning to experience this year's fete des lumieres, and see some friends and colleagues from last year. I can't wait! More updates will follow I'm sure…