Thoughts and Words Ill-Sorted

Today when I went to check out a slew of books from the library in preparation for my upcoming exams, I was asked if I wanted to recall a book that was out and that I had on my list of ones to get.  After I said yes, the lady behind the desk informed me that I couldn’t recall the book because I apparently already had it checked out.  Apparently you can’t recall a book from yourself.  The sad thing is, the book in question was one that I had in my hand at the time: one I had picked up on a whim, without really noticing that it was also on my “must have” reading list.  Oops twice over.

Erin

Happy Easter! I have glorious hymns ringing in my ears from this weekend.

On Saturday Sydney and I left the house around 5am to drive to NYC. We left the car in the suburbs and took the train down to the Bronx to visit the Orchid Show at the New York Botanical Garden. Although we would have loved to spend some more time wandering the grounds, we were delighted to spend a couple of hours wandering the thousands of orchids in their collection. Tiny white orchids spilling from tree nooks, large, pansy-shaped orchids literally stopping people in their tracks. And, of course, lots of orchids causing admirers to stray from their intended destinations with their alluring scents. It was really lovely. Don’t worry, you don’t have to rely on my inadequate descriptions; Sydney will be posting photos later.

After lunch at the Botanical Garden, we took the subway over to The Cloisters at the top of Manhattan. On what is one of the most crowded islands on the planet, the Cloisters form a huge, sprawling park with rolling hills and an impressive stone structure that is home to a branch of the Metropolitan Museum. There we watched Pomerium, an early music group, sing liturgical pieces from the Renaissance. Although the stuffy room, combined with our sleep deprivation, made it difficult to keep our eyes open, the music was gorgeous: solemn, rich, and clear. Besides, the bass section was featured in nearly every piece; how could we not love it, when you remember that this house consists of an alto and a bass? Those of you close to Columbus should go see their concert on Friday. See www.pomerium.com for details.

After the concert, we took the subway down to Grand Central. Ostensibly, this was one of the best ways to pick up the train we needed to get home. Though it is 140 blocks south of where the concert was, the subway changes to get from west to east would have been taxing enough to take approximately the same time as the trip to Grand Central. And, if we went to Grand Central, we could visit the markets there and come up with a delicious batch of food for our supper. So south we went. Papaya, focaccia, German chocolates, and gourmet cheeses later, we boarded the train to come home. A looooong day, but a lovely one. I slept on the way home (sorry for ditching you, Sydney!), and Sydney took a nap this afternoon, so we should be somewhat recovered. And there’s still loot in the fridge!

Erin

When Sydney was gone, I had a nice little life going (except for the missing him part): early start to the day, time at the gym, carefully scheduled and productive work hours, and a meal routine that was nourishing but that didn’t have me cooking all the time.  It certainly satisfied my orderly predilections, and I worried about how I would deal with the “intrusion” of Sydney’s return.  Yes, yes, I know: I’m a maniac.  Setting that aside, the first thing Sydney did when he walked in the door was look for a nice, clean spot on which to dump his glasses, watch, and everything from his pockets.  Sigh.

Today, however, I’m reaping the benefits of having him back.  He is far more spontaneous than I am.  I prefer the nose-to-the-grindstone (or, if you prefer, head-in-the-sand) approach to life, but he’s always keeping antennae up to pick up new projects, interests, and headlines.  Last week he called my attention to the fact that Pomerium, one of our favorite early-music groups, will be performing at the Cloisters in Manhattan on the Saturday before Easter.  And, after some discussion with me (though I thought he was simply dreaming pipe dreams, and thus didn’t take him seriously), he bought us tickets for that concert.

When we were undergrads, Sydney, Lauren, and I attended that annual concert and thought it was fantastic.  With the stone walls of the Cloisters around you, you can’t help but get in the mood for Renaissance music.  Now, although we’re a bit farther away from the Cloisters than we were in college, we’ll be going again.  And yes, being the romantic dupe that I am, there is something kinda cute about the fact that that concert will mark four years since Sydney and I really got to know each other.  Strange where life takes us, isn’t it?

Erin

Alright, now that I’ve had almost a week to recover from an interesting trip home, perhaps I should write a post about what I did at Oxford before moving on. Apparently, all I’ve talked about so far is flowers and birdwatching. On the assumption that I didn’t pay thousands of dollars to go see some British birds, delightful though they may be, I must have done something else in Oxford. So what did I do? Read. Read. And read some more. And sat down to read some more.

More seriously:

1) The reason that got me to go in the first place was a seminar on Francisco Suarez taught by two professors that I’ve had at Cornell in the past. Courses on Suarez aren’t exactly common these days and I thought that sitting in on one would be a great way to start working towards a dissertation on Suarez (I’m supposed to come up with a dissertation prospectus in the near future).

2) I also sat in on a few other courses and attended a philosophy of religion reading group. The lectures on Duns Scotus and Ockham by Prof. Trifogli were sort of relevant to my career. The seminars on sexual ethics and fictionalism were more in service of my continued refusal to be decent and focus on one topic. But they were really interesting! Anyway, none of these were really reasons for why I went to Oxford, but they were great side benefits and allowed me to meet a number of people.

3) The other reason for going to Oxford that’s actually relevant to my dissertation and such was the chance to use the libraries. I mean, Francisco Suarez isn’t nearly obscure enough, as is clear from the fact that I can get his books around here. But the incredible commentary by Gabriel Vasquez (Suarez’s main sparring partner) on Aquinas’s Summa Theologiae is not available around here. But Oxford’s libraries have numerous copies of it. I was also interested in Bartolome de Medina and Melchor Cano, and they’re even harder to get.

There is also just the sheer pleasure of working in the magnificent libraries there. I’d be quite happy to make Duke Humphrey’s Library my regular haunt.

– Sydney

On Friday Sydney’s long-time friend Milton stopped in for a visit. Milton happened to be driving a semi-truck through the middle of New York and thus became our first drop-in visitor.  We never have people come to visit us, since, according to Midwesterners, we live way out on the East Coast and, according to East Coasters, we live way back in the hills.  Alas.

But with Milton around, we had a great time.  Sydney saw this as a great excuse to pay a visit to our favorite Thai restaurant in town.  He’s still getting over his nasty cold, though, so I can’t say he was the liveliest host in history!  And, of course, Ithaca is best seen later in the season, when the Farmer’s Market’s and hiking trails are open.  But we tried to show him the sights!  I’m also very glad that Milton likes cats since, well, it didn’t take more than ten minutes for our cat to be jumping all over him.  Perhaps she helped to make him feel at home 🙂

Erin

Tonight, on my way back from a dinner downtown, I found myself in a line of cars at a police checkpoint.  As the nice young policeman explained to me, they were checking for DUIs and DWIs.  Ten feet past the checkpoint, I saw a sign that simply read “Beer” and indicated the convenience store nearby.

Erin

Sydney’s now been home for two whole days.  I knew he was coming with lots of baggage, but I didn’t realize he would come home with a nasty cold.  So he’s spent the last couple of days coughing, sniffling, lying on the couch, and napping.  I have, of course, taken the opportunity to be rather lazy myself.  A nap feels great even when you’re well!

We’ve also been watching movies that Sydney bought.  Sydney, movies?  Yup.  He had mailed to our house some videos of David Attenborough’s nature shows.  They’re fascinating!  Each of the DVDs has several segments on it, so we’ve worked our way through films of Birds of Paradise and hidden tribes in Papua New Guinea, carvings from Easter Island, and insects.  And we have several more in store!

Of course, after I’ve had several weeks on my own to appreciate just how much I love the way Sydney drags me into new experiences, new interests, etc., he comes home and immediately starts up the habit again.  Sometimes, as when he insists on gardening a piece of land that’s waaaay bigger than what we need, I have a hard time appreciating all the newness he brings to my life (thus speaks the control-freak).  But after several weeks on my own, I’m glad to have him–and his inquisitive nature–back!

Erin

His beard and hair are scruffy and he’s smelly and hoarse.  But I’ll take him. 🙂

There are some good things to note first: Sydney let me know he thinks he’s coming today.  As I write, he should be somewhere over the Atlantic, relaxing a bit after a stressful couple of days.  We’ll just hope he can get through Detroit and home before midnight without further incident.

But I’m fuming because I just got a form in the mail letting me know that Cornell withheld a big chunk of Sydney’s summer fellowship last year, an amount that has to be figured into the 2007 taxes.  If you hadn’t noticed, it’s currently March 11, one month before taxes are due.  I finished taxes a couple of weeks ago.  Now I have to do them OVER.  *@#%(*@%^#(* Cornell!  There was absolutely no indication that cash had been withheld, since Cornell doesn’t think it necessary to let its students know how much they should expect to get at any given time, much less send a respectable notice via postal mail.  Good grief I’m annoyed.  Well, so much for getting a good bit of work done before Sydney comes home this evening . . .

Erin

So I’m stuck in a hotel in London, listening to storm outside. Right, exactly. After two months of pretty much nothing but sunny, balmy days, a big storm rolls in just as I want to leave the country.

Sometimes getting from one place to another is straightforward enough. Other times it isn’t. Not much today has happened quite the way it was supposed to.

For starters, when I got up somebody else was using the shower. I’m pretty sure this is only the second time in two months that somebody else has been in the shower when I wanted to use it. This only delayed me a few minutes.

Then it turned out that there were no available taxis in the city. The porter called three agencies. One of them thought they might have one available about half an hour after I needed it. So I walked. Two miles. Dragging around 130 lbs. of luggage. On sidewalks littered with branches. In case you’ve never noticed, the wheels on suitcases are pretty small and don’t handle obstacles very well. By the time I got to the bus station, my arms were so tired that I couldn’t close one of my hands.

Also, I naturally got there later than I had planned. But at that point I thought things would still work out fine. It turned out the main road into London was closed due to a traffic accident. I’m not sure how reliable my source is, but last I heard the story was the accident was bad enough to have kept the road shut from 7am to at least 2pm. Anyway, the bus got to London 1 1/2 to 2 hours late.

This was bad for two reasons. First, obviously, it made me later than I wanted to be. Second, it meant I had to spend more time sitting next to some people next to whom I would rather not have sat. There was an elderly couple sitting behind me. They talked the whole time. While eating what must have been a suitcase full of candies. So I get to listen to a pile of candies slipping and clanking around in their mouths, with the slipping and clanking interrupted periodically by a sound akin to a rock crusher as a candy got put out of its misery. And then a girl boarded the bus listening to some obnoxious music on her beloved pink ipod with the volume turned up way too high. The seat next to mine was the only free one on the bus. Perfectly ghastly.

Anyway, once we get to London, I get on the express train that runs to the airport. By now I’m thinking that my chances of leaving today are rather slim, especially once I realize that the train isn’t exactly an express train today since they’re worried about crosswinds. But I talk to a Norwegian fellow who’s next to me and he tells me that he thinks the average flight out of Gatwick is delayed by a couple of hourse because of the weather. So I’m thinking there may be some hope yet.

But, no, my flight would have to be the one that departed on time. I get to the airport half an hour before my flight is supposed to depart, in order to hear an airline agent tell me that it is illegal for them to let anyone board who arrives that late. So that was that. Oh, and, of course, the accident isn’t the airline’s fault, so I get to foot the bill. Lovely.

Fortunately, things are just bad enough that they’re kind of fun.

Sydney