Unusual sightings in the changing season

The seasons are definitely changing.  This is the sunset outside my office window, taken at about 1610 (4:10 pm).  By the time I leave at five, it is dark out.

By about 1900 (7:00 pm) the moon is shining over the meadow. The cattle have been taken in for the winter, but the swans have not yet left the small pond and the horses still graze since their owners live on the edge of meadow and can tend to them throughout the winter.

I have not been on any major expeditions recently, so I will share a few disconnected experiences with you.

Being in England, I will not get off for Thanksgiving, but Steph,  a colleague who is originally from California, invited me to dinner on Saturday.  With several other American ex-pats I enjoyed turkey, sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie with whipped cream.  It was a good time.

A couple of weeks ago, I walked through a French market set up on a major street in Oxford and saw these sausages. They caught my eye because I am accustomed to sausages of German descent in Wisconsin 
that are evenly round all along the length of the sausage. The French are more haphazard. These sausages look more like large pieces of bent wood.  The hams looked different as well.

If I leave for work early enough, I can see the milk truck.  This photo was taken on a fairly cool morning so the milk would stay cool. But even during the summer they have no refrigeration.  I remember the milk truck that came through the neighborhood in the fifties when I was a kid.  They at least had ice over the crates. I remember chewing on a piece as my brother and I rode with the milkman down to the end of the block.

I had lunch recently in a home that had a well in floor.  When the owners built onto the house, they found this well under the area where they wanted to build a new living room. So they just built it into the decor.  Very impressive.

On my way to church,  I pass these two old cars.  This one obviously is not in use.  It probably made in the 1930'2. If it were restored, it would be beautiful.

This one is a Plymouth Valiant, 1962 I think.  It is still used because I've seen it in different parking places along the road.  My first car was a 1970 Valiant, so this one meant something more to me than just any old car. 

In the coming weeks, I will be into the full swing of Christmas celebrations.  I will take a lot of photos.

Ballots, Bonfires and Battles

This past week has been momentous with the election of Obama as president.  I stayed up all night Tuesday to watch the returns.

Late that evening I made my way done this narrow alley, Frewin Court, off the Cornmarket Street.

And up to the Oxford Union Society.  They were hosting an all night election party.  CNN was being broadcast in the bar, but it was too crowded to find a place to sit, even  at 4:00 in the morning.

So, I made my way up to the McCormick Room where they were offering free food and drink. (I thought I might something to keep myself awake.) Besides, this was the only room where I could find an outlet for my laptop.  I spent the next several hours watching the New York Times map turn blue and listening to the commentary on WPR.  Most of the rest of the people in this room were students there for the all night party.

I ended the night in the library where the BBC was being broadcast on a large screen.  I joined a couple dozen other expats.  When Obama was announced the President-elect a cheer went up from the group.  We stayed for another hour to listen to the speeches.  I made my way to the bus stop to catch the 5:50, was home by 6:05 and promptly went to bed, sleeping until almost noon.

The next night the Brits were so gracious that they celebrated our election with bonfires,

Sparklers for the children,

And fireworks.

Actually, November 5 is Guy Fawkes Day, commemorating a foiled plot to blow up parliament five hundred years ago.

Sunday we observed the Day of Remembrance. In the US we call it Veterans Day.  They take it more seriously here, probably because both world wars were fought much closer to home and at least during WWI, they lost more men.  All over Great Britain, villages, towns and cities held parades and tributes to the fallen and those returned from war.  I did not attend any of the parades, but others did and have posted photos.

At eleven o'clock, the nation observed two minutes of silence.  The church leaders even arranged the church service so that we could join in this communal remembrance of soldiers who gave their lives for our freedom. A fitting ending for a week full of political and patriotic events.

Spider webs

I took these pictures a couple of weeks ago and meant to put them up on Halloween.  Every autumn a common spider weaves webs all over.  These webs were all along the walk to the bus stop one morning.

Sidewalks, Pavements, Footpaths

I did not do anything touristy this week end.  I am saving my energy to stay up overnight on Tuesday to see the returns come in.  I did bring treats for the Friday afternoon tea at the office. In honor of Halloween, I told the story about the Golden Arm.  I am not a very good story teller, but my colleagues enjoyed the experience.

But I thought you would still like to see something of Oxford.  So I have developed a photo essay of sidewalks or pavements as they are called here. 

Another word that is used in Britain is footpath.  I have seen it on barricades telling pedestrians that the footpath is open during construction.  More often the word is used in a more technical manner, meaning a path from one place to another that is open to the public by virtue of it having been walked on by the public for a set period of time.  One of colleges closes for one day each year so that its grounds will not be deemed public footpaths.  The path which this sign indicates runs from near my house to Port Meadow, part of which is called Wolvercote Common.

The regular pavements that run along each side of a city street are usually quite narrow,

except when they are very wide like these that along the main shopping district.   As you can see, construction is is going on here.  Rather than a couple of guys with a truck of concrete, here the city employs at least half dozen men laying down a bed of sand, leveling it, and placing the paving stone evenly, cutting them to fit.  More labor intensive than in the US, but a beautiful result.

More often the pavements are an amalgam of overlapping asphalt.  When the neighborhood needs a new wire put in under the pavement, the workers cut a narrow trench down the middle, place the wire in and put more asphalt, resulting in something like this.

Walking through Magdalen College, where S. C. Lewis taught, is a memorable experience.  For one thing, the covered walkway was paved with stones that were not entirely even to begin with and have become more so over the years since they were put in in 1474.

Behind the Sheldonian in the center of Oxford, you can find this example of a cobblestone walk.  I found it incredibly difficult to walk on and this is a relatively even pathway.  If it were worn unevenly, it would have been worse.

Some of the pavements are even paved with wooden blocks.  This example can be walked on at Blenheim Palace.  I was intrigued to see the actual tree rings in the paving blocks.

All in all I have enjoyed walking the pavements of Oxford and environs.  Next week I will tell you about my experience of watching the president being elected.  I will be watching with other ex-pats and local Oxford students at the Oxford Union Society.