Books and dreams

Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo, I get to look at the manuscripts in Trinity, Cambridge! I've been invited by a friend's colleague, and we've arranged for later next month. She did threaten to get me a bib in case I dribble over them.

Other news is slight. I bought a medieval reliquary cross, which isn't exciting to most people but had me practically orgasmic. (Can I say that? I'm not sure any of my family read this blog. And, hell, I'm twenty-six now, so I guess it's okay...)

And, speaking of which, this is amazing. But don't look if you're at all prudish, or in a public place.

Get happy

It's been a mad social whirl this week. A came over again Sunday night with more anime and chicken soup. We discussed the legal position of an elephant who might or might not have sat on a monkey. Last night, I surprised myself with spontaneity and invited S over after our seminar on the medieval Wirral, and got all the juicy details about her latest boyfriend. And tonight, in yet another burst of spontaneity, the lovely D and I decided we would have a beer and cook Chinese, while considering the merits of collecting dog pictures in a sticker book.

So, I'm feeling very lucky.

Tomorrow evening will be another matter, as I will have taught four hours of tutorials followed by an hour's choir practice. Which would be okay if there were any prospect of sleep tonight, but sadly I have four essays to mark before tomorrow and I'm behind with my OED work. What larks.

The food of love

Not for the faint-of-heart, but I thought this was hysterical:
Steak and BJ Day

Acquainted with the night

So, it's nearly two a.m. and here I am, still awake, sitting at the computer in my blue pyjamas with white bunnies on them. And why am I still awake? Well, I'm still awake because I know I have to get up at 9 a.m to sing with my choir at 10, which won't be finished until about midday, and then I have to be at my Jacari student's house by 1 p.m. The day will therefore be quite busy and I would like to have enough sleep tonight. Which is why I can't sleep. Which is why I try never to arrange appointments for before midday. QED.

That is not what I meant at all (Part V)

Overheard by my mother in the Post Office:
Man: I would like to send this parcel on your next-day service.
Clerk: No problem, but you've missed the next-day collection for tomorrow, I'm afraid.
Man: So, then, if I leave it with you now, when can I expect deliverance?

Which reminds me of a story told me by a Welsh person, who saw a bilingual road sign on the hard shoulder during motorway works which read "Free Recovery / Iachawdwriaeth Amhrisiadwy". This is only funny to Welsh-speakers, who will know that the translation is not really a translation at all, but in fact means "Priceless Salvation".

Wild bells

Easter's over, and I managed not to stuff myself with chocolate as a result of having a mouth ulcer and another ulcer on my throat. This made any kind of eating quite excruciating, and chocolate even more so. But now I'm back in Oxford completely un-leprous and without parental watchfulness, and am munching away on all the chocolate from my egg-hunt. Add to this that the wonderful A just came over with not only some really great Japanese anime on DVD, and not only amazing German goats' cheese, but also even more amazing German chocolate, and you have a very happy me.

Easter is, I suppose, the start of a new year in some kind of metaphysical Christian way, so I'm going to use it as an excuse to make the resolutions I didn't make back in January. So, before next Easter I will...

1) Visit at least two more European countries (preferably Italy and Germany, but I'm not fussy)
2) Visit at least five Anglo-Saxon sites to get photos for my archive
3) Learn Latin and German well enough to read moderately difficult texts - the German perhaps facilitated by resolution (1)

I think that's enough. I could always add "try to be a nice person" - but why change the habits of a lifetime? ;)

After a very short time away from Oxford, I'd already forgotten how guilty I feel when at least three sets of church bells toll the hour to tell me that it's really too late and I should be in bed...

Willows and ruins

Yesterday, I returned from nearly a week spent in Ireland. This being my first holiday in about ten years, I was determined to enjoy it - but I hadn't expected it all to be quite so wonderful. Apart from the obvious things about Ireland - no smoking in the pubs (bliss), people who are actually friendly, that kind of thing - the conference I was attending was so well organised and full of interesting papers and excursions and free food, that it would have taken a serious level of curmudgeonliness not to be absolutely delighted with it all. Okay, so some thieving bugger stole my wallet, but that was pretty much the only downside to the entire trip!

Admittedly, nine hours' travelling each way wasn't exactly fun, but it was great to get on a plane again after fifteen years and finally cure myself of my flying phobia. The conference itself was brilliant. There were some fascinating papers given, and the opportunity to meet other postgrad medievalists would alone have been worth the journey. My travelling companion C and I spent most of our time with M, Jh, and Jw, who we were lucky enough to meet on Thursday and who proved to be fantastic company. Jw, in addition, lives in Galway and played Tourguide Barbie excellently, making the visit far easier than it might have been!

Galway reminded me a little of Swansea, although it's larger and rather more cosmopolitan. It's on the coast, with some fabulous views, and the city is really vibrant at night. I counted three different groups of street musicians walking home at midnight on Saturday! This being Ireland, they were pretty musical, too. There are (of course) plenty of pubs - the Front Door was my favourite, with amazing food and good service. C and I stayed at the Claddagh Hostel, in a twin room, which basically consisted of a bunk bed and a strip of floor; we couldn't both be out of bed at the same time, pretty much! But it was clean and comfortable, which was all we really wanted. It was odd to be in a place which seemed so much like home, and yet wasn't. I had to ask some chap in a newsagent what a postbox looked like, and the Euro exchange rate just made my head hurt. And the Irish seem to have very European road-crossing habits - you run across and just hope that you make it before the cars get you. No good for someone brought up on the green cross code...

On the Sunday, we visited Claregalway castle, which is currently being restored. Some of the old walls of the castle building had recently been excavated, and the outlines were visible in the ground. From the top of the tower, we had a perfect view over to Claregalway Abbey, which we later visited as well. The architecture was sublime, and it was a real treat to be accompanied by some proper archaeologists and art historians who knew what they were talking about. How did I manage without the term "ogee"?

The Eunuch and Wicked Fellow

It's a beautiful day, the sun is shining, and since I worked till 4 a.m. today, I feel that the rest of the day can justifiably be taken off. Although I'm very excited about grammar, so I may not be able to stop working!

I discovered on BBC Online a recording of the last ever castrato, Alessandro Moreschi. It's eerie, and I find it very unpleasant, although he was apparently quite renowned in his time. The accompanying article explains that poor parents would have their sons castrated in hope of their finding fame and fortune as singers. Seems like quite a drastic step to take for such a long shot. A little research brought out the fact that some men nowadays are castrated willingly, either for sexual gratification (it better be really good, you'd think) or because they have some form of body dysmorphia or are unhappy with their libido. I'm certain there must be better ways... I also discovered that castration, aside from reducing sex drive and aggressiveness, can prevent baldness. I know one or two men for whom it would really have been the ideal solution on both counts - killing two birds with one stone, as it were. Or should that be two stones?