Smith Family in York

All That You Can't Leave Behind

2008-07-05T03:37:00.005+01:00

We've been home nearly a month. We have been busy settling back in, catching up with friends and family and enjoying summer in Grand Rapids. My gardens are blooming, I've made strawberry jam, Coleson graduated from 8th grade, Grayson had a great time on his trip to Montana, Jamie is making progress on his "honey do" list and his book, Maddie turned 12, and Jack has been in video game heaven (when he's not at the pool or playing badminton). In all this craziness, it's been hard to process all that we left behind in England. Or maybe it's been a good way to avoid it.

It's hard to put into words just exactly what our time in England meant to me. It was certainly an exciting trip, a great place to visit. But if it was only that, it would not have been so hard to say goodbye. The friendships we forged made York a home and we were welcomed into a community that showered us with warmth and hospitality. We saw familiar faces on the street, Mrs Chippy nodded to us as regulars when we came in. I watched for birds in the garden and listened for the bells of York Minster. We had tea at 10 and 2. And very regularly, I could count on a text from Faith inviting us to lunch, or tea (which meant dinner) or perhaps a day out with the kids. Maybe even breakfast with pancakes and homemade bread. But probably what I treasure the most is that I'd found a kindred spirit. Faith was always up for anything. She always had a plan or suggestion. It almost always included a picnic or maybe lunch at a historic home. Sometimes only bits and bobs, but it was always fun. We introduced them to Friday night calzones. I'll never forget Ellie saying to me "Deanna, those calzones were really nice". I have since adopted the phrase. Our families just seemed to click. The kids were not all the same age (well, except the Jakemans, but that's only because they are triplets!) but they played so well together and all of the Smiths looked forward to get togethers with the Jakemans. I still have to remind myself that they are not just around the corner.

I miss them. I miss the life we lived there. That's not to say that I don't love my life here in Grand Rapids and the wonderful friends that I have, because I do. York will remain for me a respite. A timeout from the busyness that can consume our lives. Idle hours to wander the city or read a good book. Quiet moments to be still and grieve the losses of the last year. Wonderful adventures with my family that at times nearly filled my heart to bursting with joy. Moments of amazement at places I thought I'd never see. Dreams I'd never thought to dream.

I am so thankful. God prepared a place for us. He nourished us and loved us through the kindness of strangers, who then became cherished friends--and that you can't leave behind.

P.S. We'll keep updating the blog with things we didn't get to share yet.

FYI

2008-06-12T14:43:00.001+01:00

Just FYI, we don't have long-distance phone or internet at home yet, so apologies for being incommunicado for a little while until we get everything reconnected. We should be up and running soon and then will look forward to catching up.

A Hard Day's Night...

2008-06-10T14:43:00.002+01:00

Well, we are finally back in Grand Rapids. I'm not sure what sort of magnetism the Smith family has, but we seem to just "attract" challenges in transatlantic travel.

Things were going relatively well on Sunday morning. We all got up pretty promptly at 5am and we're ready for the airport shuttle at 6am. Faith and the kids very kindly got up early on a Sunday morning to see us off--which was a wonderful blessings, even if it also made it harder for us to say goodbye! We made it to Manchester airport without incident, including a stop for coffee and pastries on the way. Only as we were loading up the luggage carts did we realize that, in fact, an entire suitcase had been left in one of the upstairs bedrooms of our house in York! Well, at least we had each other, and our passports, all of which seemed most important. So we worked very hard at not being disheartened. Our flight to Gatwick was right on time, no troubles, and the same for our departure from Gatwick to Detroit. When we landed in Detroit 8 hours later, I quietly thought to myself: "Well, this has gone quite well." I didn't even say it out loud, as I didn't want to jinx things. Turns out just thinking it was enough.

After a long process in passport control (always a challenge since we're Canadians, living in the States, etc.), we emerged on the other side to still find the entire plane waiting for luggage. Apparently while we were all in the underbelling of Detroit Metro Airport, a thunderstorm had exploded over Detroit and shutdown the airport, including baggage handling. About an hour later, things were reactivated and luggage started to emerged from the conveyers that looked like black tongues rolled out from the ceiling. Slowly we collected our bags: 7, 8, 9...9...9...? As suitcases stopped coming down the black tongues we faced up to the reality: one of our suitcases (one of the BIG ones!) didn't make the trip from London. We started the day with 11; we were now down to 9. On top of that, the boxes containing my books looked like they had been transported from the plane by being thrown in front of the truck and pushed through the puddles with the front bumper.

OK, OK, we said: we're all safe, we haven't been deported, and we're only about 120 miles from home. Just one very short plane ride to Grand Rapids.

You'd think.

We made our way to the gate for our Grand Rapids flight. Not surprisingly, it was delayed because of the weather. And delayed. And delayed again. Until finally they very perfunctorily announced, around 9:30pm, that the flight had been canceled and that we should proceed to Customer Service for re-booking. A minor stamped ensued and we were informed that: (1) they would be very happy to book us on a flight to Grand Rapids at 9am the next morning; and (2) no, they wouldn't be providing complementary hotel accommodations. "Thank you, and have a nice day." Indeed.

I should say that at this point the cracks began to show and the meltdowns began: crying, anger, cussing. And the kids were kind of upset, too.

We found a discounted hotel room in the general vicinity of the airport and joined the herds of other stranded passengers making their way to these lodgings. After an hour fighting to get on one of the free shuttles. ("Fighting," I'm afraid, is not really a metaphor: there were so many people trying to squeeze onto these shuttle vans that as each one arrived you'd think it was a helicopter airlifting soldiers from heavy artillery fire.) We then were deposited at the Quality Inn & Suites with a crowd of others, only to waiting in line in the lobby for two hours just to get a room. (Don't ask: for the life of me I still can't figure out what took so long.) Having hoped to sleep in "our own beds" on Sunday night, we squeezed into various arrangements in the hotel room (Maddie on the floor, Jackson between us) for what sleep we could grab hold of. When we awoke at 5am on Monday morning, it hit us that we had no clothes, no toothbrushes, no deodorant, etc. But wait: Coleson had stick of roll-on in his backpack! Hurray! We circulated between us all, Coleson gagging with each shared swipe.

The rest was fairly uneventful. We made it to Grand Rapids and we're so happy to see the friendly faces of the Mulders (who, unfortunately, had also been at the airport the night before!). They kindly piled us into two vehicles as we made the pilgrimage back to Baldwin Street. We were home.

All that said, at least there was no vomiting on this trip... :-)

The Number One Thing I'll Miss About England

2008-06-07T22:38:00.003+01:00

1. football
Since coming over here i have been sucked into the football culture. At first i thought it was a bit boring, but i started watching it more and more and loved it. My favourite team is Chelsea, a London based team. the made it to the super bowl of Soccer but lost to Manchester United. It was a heartbreaking game. I tried to watch as many games as i could, but with our basic cable i could only watch a couple. Every Saturday and Sunday i look forward to reading about football in the papers we get. In my room here i had a whole wall dedicated to Chelsea. It had pictures and articles i had cut out of the papers, taped up on the wall. it got very large and spread to the wall next to it. I called it the wall of Chelsea. I also got a Chelsea jersey as a keepsake. I'm going to miss football very much. It isnt shown very much in the States but i'll watch as much as i can. I can't believe im leaving tomorrow. It has gone so fast.

What I'll Miss About York

2008-06-07T09:43:00.004+01:00

Well, today's the day: our final day to drink in our adopted home for these past months. Here are some of the things I'm going to miss about York:

The Jakemans! Alastair, Faith, Ellie, Beth, and Tom have been such wonderful friends to us, a wonderful gift from a generous Saviour. Thanks be to God that we connected with them just a few days after landing in York, and that their proximity made it so easy to foster a friendship. They have been our hosts and local experts, our taxi almost every Sunday (and more!), our veritable dictionaries for all things British (as we would constantly be asking them, "What do you call this? Why do you do it that way? Where is such and such?..."). They have been so gracious us to welcome us into their lives and home over the past 5 months. (Indeed, all of the saints at York Evangelical Church have modeled the hospitality and charity that should be the central mark of the body of Christ.) It is going to be very, very hard to say goodbye. We hope it will only be "farewell," and that the Jakemans might be able to make a trek to Grand Rapids someday. (We'll have to start a "Bring the Jakemans to Our House" Fund!)
The Bells of York Minster: The Minster--the cathedral of York--literally towers over the entire city, and is visible from miles outside of town. But I have treasured another way that it makes its presence felt: through the bells. The chimes of the tower's bells seem to dance over the city in the evening and on quiet Sunday mornings, singing a song that is ancient.
Wood pidgeons and bird songs: There are a number of different birds here in York, including a large wood pidgeon that we don't have at home, which I found quite beautiful (in a feral sort of way, I guess). And our garden is also frequented by a kind of black bird (I think it's just called a "black bird"!) which, visually, is completely unremarkable. But I have often found myself captivated by its song. Since the spring, when the weather has been nice, I've moved a little table out into the back of the house and worked in the garden. But I would often myself pleasantly distracted by a black bird on top of the hosue who seemed to be a jazz musician, improvising songs and notes that I'd never heard before. It was like it could sing both Vivaldi and Coltrane, the mournful tones of heart-broken country & western or the light diddies of show tunes.
Mr. Chippy: Sometimes (well, pretty often to be honest!), Deanna and I would take a lunch break and walk to the town centre, making a stop at Mr. Chippy, our favorite chip shop near the heart of town. We'd be chips "open" (that is, in a tray to take away, ready to eat), and Dee would often have them smothered in gravy (and on days that she was perhaps lonely, she'd add cheese for comfort). We'd then sit together on a bench just outside a nearby church and watch the bustle of York go by. I'll miss the chips, but maybe I'll miss the time together in this setting even more.
The Little Shambles Tea Room: When we lived in England in 2004, we were zealous converts to "cream tea"--tea with scones, clotted cream, and jam. Here in York I discovered the Little Shambles Tea Room, on the Shambles, the most ancient street in York. A little hole in the wall, the shop has two floors. Sometimes I would take my work, climb to the second floor, and enjoy my cream tea while looking out the window that peered over the market.
The Indepent and the Roman Bath pubs: English pubs are not quite the same as American "bars." They have a sort of neighborhood, community feel about them that can't quite be translated. Each pub seems to represent its own little community, a slice of the city. Deanna and I would sometimes sneak out for a pint at the Independent, just around the corner from our house. Our we would walk downtown to the Roman Bath pub right in the heart of the city. I'm going to miss John Smith's Smooth, a cheap local brew from here in Yorkshire.
The medieval echoes: There is an ambience to York that is hard to describe, and yet very tangible. It oozes history, and the walls and Minster continue to give it a medieval feel that speaks to my romantic soul.
A pedestrian life: We've been shrinking our carbon footprint while we've been here since we've had no car. The result is that we walk everywhere, and York is such a pedestrian- friendly place. Pretty much anything that really matters is within walking distance. It is such a wonderful way to inhabit space. I hope we'll find ways to translate this back to our neighborhood in Grand Rapids even more than we used to (since the "mixed use" environment of East Hills certainly makes this possible).

York has gotten into our bones in all sorts of ways I'm sure we're not even aware of. I expect it will come back over us in waves when we get home: when the kids want to play with the Jakemans, and then realize they're an ocean away; when I'm craving a pint of John Smith's and can't find it anywhere; when we're sick of 28th Street and want to just stroll down the "snickelway" of the Shambles; when I happen to hear a church bell tolling through the din of SUVs and freeway traffic. I hope memories are enough.

The Top Ten Things I'll Miss About England

2008-06-06T17:43:00.005+01:00

2. Grocery Shopping: Usually when Madison and Jackson go to a church youth group on Mondays, Me, my brother and my parents go to Sainsbury's to get groceries. It is so fun. Usually we make a list and ninety percent of the time we forget it. So while we're there we have to remember what was on the list. It would be a nightmare if all the kids went grocery shopping so we go on Mondays so we don't have to take everyone. My mom is the slowest grocery shopper in the world. She will spend ten minutes in one aisle trying to find the right food at the right price. It can get very annoying especially if you have a impatient brother (Grayson). Grayson and I usually check the damaged goods aisle to see if there is anything cheap treats to buy. One time we got a four pack of the English equivalent of Gatorade for about one pound eighty pence. We usually buy food for Indian every week because we eat so much. We also get food for English dishes such as cottage pie or Guiness stew. And we even get Mexican food. ( I cook it). After we have our cart almost overflowing, we take it to the front to pay for it and bag it. Sometimes we get chocolate bars as a treat. Paying for the food and bagging it can take five to ten minutes. After we have everything in our backpacks and (reusable) bags we start to walk the approximately six blocks home, our backs aching the whole time. When we get home we put away the food and slump onto the coaches still sore. I'm going to miss going grocery shopping with my parents and brother. Since we have a car in Grand Rapids my mom will go in the day while I'm at school. But it's been lots of fun doing it for the past five months.
Check tomorrow's blog to see the final thing I will miss about England!
And by the way my dad totally copied me and my list is way better because it's like a cliff hanger. =)

Things I'll Miss About England: Dad's Edition

2008-06-06T17:03:00.004+01:00

It was funny when Coleson started posting his "Top Ten" list because, unbeknownst to him, I had been compiling my own "What I'll Miss List" for the past few weeks. The similarities between our independently-composed lists are a bit spooky. This was cause for yet another round of the insider joke in the Smith family--that Coleson is just a "mini-me," complete with the all the neuroses and hang-ups, as well as the, er, "challenged" stature. (I tried to comfort him by saying this also means he gets my rugged good looks, but then he looked at my scalp and waistline and was doubly depressed.)

Anyway...we've all been thinking and talking about what we'll miss after having spent such a lovely time in York (while also trying to pretend that we're not leaving!). Here are my own little lists, one about England in general (today), one about York in particular (tomorrow):

What I'll Miss About England

The newspapers: I think the Guardian is one of the best English-language papers in the world, and I'll always cherish our Saturday mornings curling up with a coffee w/single cream to dive into the massive weekend edition which was an entire education in itself. The Review section was to die for. I'm already setting aside money to get an international subscription.
The BBC and British television: I would say that the intellectual level of the BBC has dipped a bit since we last lived in England in 2004, but I remain a fan. BBC news coverage makes any American international coverage look downright provincial. And there's a legacy of British documentaries and costume dramas that I still appreciate.
Fish & chips: tonight we told the kids they could each pick their favorite meal as a "farewell" dinner. I'm getting fish & chips from the shop just around the corner: haddock & chips, wrapped in newspaper which will be soaked through with grease by the time we get home with it. Hmmmm...the taste of decadence.
The coast: We fell in love with the east coast off the north sea, visiting places like Whitby, Robin Hood's Bay, and Filey Beach (just last week). There is a kind of rugged charm about the beaches that feels distinctly English.
Train travel: I love traveling by train. No long security lines, no two-hour pre-check-in, no mile-high detachment from the earth. Just walk up to the platform two minutes before the train leaves, jump on, find a seat with a table, sit by the window, and enjoy the countryside while somebody else does the driving and you read/doze/eat the whole way.

Tomorrow: What I'll Miss About York

Catching Up: Edinburgh and Filey Beach

2008-06-06T16:39:00.006+01:00

The last few weeks have been a blur of activity. So much to fit in and see and experience. So many goodbyes. I think I'll just share a few highlights for now to keep caught up.
Last week, the kids were off school (again!) and we spent one day in Edinburgh. It was about a 2 hour train ride over the border into Scotland. It was a little cold and wet, but we managed to see all the major sights and Jamie and the kids hiked up Arthur's seat while I read in a cafe. Cole and Jack fit in with all the red heads and quite embraced their Scottish heritage. Jackson also enjoyed the Robert Louis Stevenson museum and picked up a copy of Treasure Island. We had a picnic in the park. Jamie and I had Stilton cheese and baguette and a mini bottle of red wine. Since we had no glasses, we had to drink it straight from the bottle. Classy.

[In front of Edinburgh Castle.]

[Jamie and the kids climbed Arthur's Seat. It was so windy they were scared they would be blown off the hill!]

On Thursday we joined a group of friends from church for a day at Filey Beach. Faith and Alistair organized rides for us so we didn't have to rent a car. (I can't mention enough how thankful we have been for their friendship. We have so enjoyed getting to know them and their hospitality seems boundless. In fact, we have been incredibly blessed by their family and the church family at York Evangelical.) We took along some portable BBQs and cooked up a feast. The kids played cricket, collected shells, dug a trench and a few managed a quick dip into the cold, North Sea. After a full day, we headed back to the Jakemans for some "bits and bobs" and spent a relaxing evening drinking mugs of tea.

At low tide at Filey, the water goes waaaaay out, leaving this "sprig" of rock jutting out into the sea, filled with tide pools.

The Top Ten Things I'll Miss About England

2008-06-05T12:25:00.007+01:00

Well today I'm going to have to do five things on my list to stay on track. starting with wearing a uniform.
8. Wearing a uniform: While living in England I have had to wear a uniform to school everyday. A yellow polo shirt with a navy blue sweatshirt over top. Wearing it shows a sense of equality and belonging to the school. Nobody can say they are better than anyone because they have better clothes. Everyone is the same. Who cares about individuality uniforms help people get along a little bit better. I would wear my uniform everyday if I could. I hate to take it off when I come home. I hope my school back home starts uniforms now too. ( this whole article is a complete joke. I hated wearing a uniform. it was possibly the ugliest one on the planet. Not being able to show individuality is bad. I do not love to wear uniforms) =)

7. Ice pops: As some of you may know my brother and I have had to walk home from school everyday. On the way home there are a couple stores that sell candy, drinks and ice pops. These ice pops cost five pence. they are just the tube like, frozen flavoured ice pops that you squeeze to push of the frozen stuff up. they are delicious. people here buy twenty at a time and eat them as they walk home. the most I've bought at one time is 10. Personally I like the blue flavour and Tropical fruit (which is yellow). Grayson likes those flavours too. These ice pops are a little addictive. everyday my brother and I ask each other if they have any money to buy them. when we don't we go into a ice pop withdrawal and don't talk very much on the way home. When we do buy them we talk a lot as we go home. I'm going to miss those ice pops.

6.Walking everywhere and stores in walking distance: I have loved how walkable York is. Downtown is just a seven minute walk from our house. We go down there a few times a week to look at magazines at Borders or to go shopping. I usually go downtown to go look at Sports Illustrated at Borders or go to the Sports Store next door called JJB sports, (where I got my new Chelsea soccer jersey). Walking everywhere is also a much healthier way to get around than driving. Our whole family has slimmed down because of how far we have walked. (We'll probably put all the weight back on when we go back home because all the restaurants we want to go to) In Grand Rapids all the stores are far away and it takes a bus or car to get to them. Here they are just a ten minute walk away. I'm definitely goin to be walking more when I come home.

5. Fish and Chips: Fish and Chips are the best English food by far. The fish is usually dripping with grease and the fries are thick and hot. Gravy is the best thing to put on the chips. The fish is the best part. The crunchy deep fried batter on the outside, with the hot soft fish on the outside gives the dish a fantastic crunch. Just typing this makes my mouth water. Usually my dad and I are the only ones to get fish with our chips. My mom and siblings don't like fish so they usually just get a big order of chips. (by the way if you didn't know chips are fries). my mom usually gets gravy on her chips too. I hope that the Fish and Chip stores in America are as good as they are here.

4. Cathedrals and Castles:
England is home to the best Castles and Gothic Cathedrals. The York Minster is mind blowingly detailed. the stone and wood is carved and cut into such detailed shapes that you can't catch every detail. It is amazing that people five hundred years ago could build such giant and detailed buildings. I'm also going to miss the bells on Sundays ringing from the towers. I doubt that a building such as a cathedral could not be built the same today as it was hundreds of years ago. The cathedrals also show how old Christianity is. The people in that time believed the same religion (give or take a few rituals and rules) that we do today. Castles are found all over the country. Although usually not as extravagant as cathedrals, castles are still interesting because of the stories of knights and kings. The castle in Edinburgh even had a moat and draw bridge just like the stories I've read. I would love to see a castle as it was used when it was first built. To see the moat and the guards on horses or the draw bridge being raised or lowered to let people in. America has some castles such as the Disney land castle or the ones found in Las Vegas (= but I'm going to miss the Cathedrals and Castles of England.

3. Weekend Papers: In my opinion England has some of the best weekend papers. On Saturday our family gets the Guardian. The New York Times of England. It has very good articles and I love how small the paper is. Not small as in number or articles but the size of the paper. it is very easy to hold as you read it because of the size. On Sunday we get the Observer, the Sunday version of the Guardian. I usually just read the sports section. These papers got me interested in English football while I have lived over here. I hope these papers are available in America.

Check tomorrow's blog for the number two thing I'll miss.

Top Ten Things I'll Miss About England

2008-05-31T11:42:00.002+01:00

Number Nine: Train Rides
Coming to England has been a great chance to use trains. Traveling by train here is extremely common. Back home it is not as common. I like to look out the window and see all the sheep and the countryside. It is also easy to fall asleep on the train because of the movement. It will be sad for me when I return to England to not be able to ride the trains.

The Top Ten Things I'll Miss About England

2008-05-30T16:02:00.005+01:00

For the next ten days I will be counting down our time in England by listing the top ten things I'll miss about England. Today will be number ten, sheep.
Sheep are extremely common on farms in England. On the various road trips that we have taken we have seen thousands of sheep. We were lucky enough to be here for when the lambs are born. We’ve see them jumping and running around in the countryside and they seem to come to their mother whenever she calls them. Sometimes they'll be walking in the middle of the road and you have to stop for them to cross. We have even seen a couple black sheep in the midst of the sea of white wool. I’ll be very disappointed when I take trips to Canada and all I see are horses and cows. (But I will be excited to see my family when I go.) Check the blog tomorrow for the number nine thing I will miss about England.

Eagles, Owls, Vultures, and Cricket(s)

2008-05-26T22:10:00.006+01:00

Today was a "bank holiday" in England. These seem to be invented so that Brits never have to go more than a month without a vacation day--a system sort of half-way between the States' workaholism and France's (admirable) habit of keeping the working year to about 120 days! Anyway, we were able to join an impromptu crew of folks from York Evangelical Church who convoyed out to Ripley, a little village west of York, home to Ripley Castle. Here are just a few highlights of a fun day:

Castle Ripley is one of the dozens and dozens of "stately homes" that one finds all over England (with a number here in Yorkshire). They often date back centuries (Castle Ripley dates back 700 years), testament to a long legacy of aristocracy in Britain. They often have expansive grounds with stunning gardens and lakes, great for picnics and strolls. And some--like Ripley--still have families living in them. Deanna was lamenting today that we don't have anything like this back home to enjoy. (Yeah, just one of the effects of that nasty little thing called, the American Revolution! This is why Ruskin said he would never visit America: he couldn't go to a country that had not castles.)

Castle Ripley had a special treat today: a display and demonstration of birds of prey, including eagles, vultures, owls, and hawks. It brought to mind the "falconeries" that would have often been part of such stately homes.
The trainer was an absolutely charming guy (Alastair remarked that this was a guy who had found his true calling in life and just exuded joy). He explained how the birds navigated wind and currents, and then set them to flight. It was amazing how he could communicate with the birds in the most subtle ways.This picture doesn't do it justice, but we were seated just about 10 feet from the birds, and seeing them take flight was absolutely incredible. First, they are massive; this vulture had a wing span of probably 7 feet. You could just feel it pump the air in the first couple of strokes, hunting for a wind or current that would lift it without effort. It was a particularly windy day, with swirling currents around the lake, so it was fascinating to watch the birds navigate these winds. And then seeing them come back in: often they would climb on a current to just over the take-off area, then fold in their wings like an F-16 fighter jet, diving to the earth, pulling up just before the trainer. Amazing.

After exploring the castle grounds, we made our way for Ripley's "world famous ice cream." Ice cream over here is creamier, and not as sweet; a welcome treat.

And then the day ended with an impromptu game of cricket (the Jakemans, being Englishmen of good stock, always have cricket equipment in the "boot" of their car!). The kids did great defending their wickets, bowling the ball, etc.

Whitby weekend away 2008

2008-05-26T09:21:00.003+01:00

At our church I go to a group called CY and we made it stand for Christian Youth. because it was for kids my age (11-13). Anyway, we went to Whitby which is a very nice town along the seaside. we left Friday and got back Sunday.

When we arrived on Friday the girls got a tour of the house we were staying in. The boys were staying in a church hall. There was two rooms for the girls to choose from I was in a room with my good friend Ellie. (the triplet) Libby and Naomi, and in the other room, since their was nine girls there was five in one and four in the other. Beth, Ellie T., Marissa, Suzie, Kezia. After the tour we had a meeting and sang some hyms. then we had some snacks. A little while later we drove down to the church where the boys were staying they unpacked then we all went for a walk around the town. This was around 10:30 - 12:00. when we got back we went to bed but first had some sweets. We got up at 9:00 for breakfast on Saturday morning. Then we had another meeting about the Holy Spirit and who he is. towards the afternoon we had a choice to either go rowing on the river or go to paint pottery. As you can probably guess I chose the painting. when we arrived there was lots of pottery everywhere. we had to choose something that wasn't too expensive, so I chose this little pot that can be used to hold paintbrushes or pencils. I painted swirls in a a dark sunset orange and light green a light tealish blue. Around an hour later we finished painting, and the people said that we need to come back in a week to pick them up because they have to put them in the kiln.
whilst we were finishing up the people who went rowing beat us back to the church for eating lunch. When we finished our lunch we got instructions for a treasure hunt around Whitby, and then put into teams. The treasure hunt had eighty-two questions, so it took around two to three hours. Eve, the leader who organized the treasure hunt calculated our scores and my team won by four points. But we barely won I was holding the answers and we were on a really narrow alley with steps. I still managed to get past and sprint to the church.
You may think that was the last of our very fun day but we are forgetting one thing...FISH&CHIPS! So we went to the beach for a little while and made sand castles and did Frisbee and stuff,but then the tide was coming in quite quickly so we had to rush up the steps away from the sea that would have soon swallowed us otherwise. We vigorously tried to get sand off of us because when we were done fish&chips were awaiting us. They were awaiting us on the pier in fact. The leaders past out the stuff to the twelve of us, and us starving vultures dug in. Part way into to our digging Ellie (my friend) fell a plop on her head and froze, she was terrified! As you can probably guess it was bird poop right on her head by her ear. one of the leaders helped Ellie wash it off and she took a shower as soon as we got home.
When we got home we had half an hour to play or take a shower. Then we had another meeting continuing from the last one. Finally we watched Ice Age. It was hilarious we were quoting it all night.
When we woke up the next morning we had breakfast, started to pack, then got ready for church. when we were all ready we drove part way then since it was nice out, walked the rest. A little while later, when church was finished we had a nice English meal of shepherd's pie. And the kids could ask the leaders any questions they wanted. When lunch was finished, we finished packing, put our stuff in the car and since it was my last time with the group they gave me a card that everyone signed and we had cake.
Then we were finished at Whitby and we were all sad to leave but our time had come. We made a banner that said thank you to the people who let us stay in their house. And we were off. =( =)

Dance the night away

2008-05-23T08:16:00.001+01:00

Its been a while since I last posted. But I am now so be grateful. This psot is a bit late but, last Friday I went to a school disco. My friend Ellie came over after school and we got ready together and she got to try our famous Calzones. The disco was really fun. There was loads of screaming and dancing and singing at the top of your lungs. It was the year six’ last disco because they are the highest in the school. They apparently have two a year. All of us year six girls danced most of the night in a big huddle or circle doing crazy random dance moves. The room was really dark with flashing rainbow design lights. Mum stayed around for the first fifteen minutes to take pictures. We had an inside joke that was hilarious and I will explain the best I can. So on Gilmore Girls Luke found out that he had a daughter and it was really awkward between them, the daughter was going to her first boy girl party. Luke was trying to tell her to not kiss. But she was grossed out about it so he used the word juggling instead. So Grayson said, “Have a good time, make good choices and no juggling!”

We did the Macarena that was my favorite part of the night. The song went on forever and the room was really hot and it spelled faintly of B.O. I took my shoes of part way through because my feet were sweating. And the refreshments sucked because by the time I got there everything was gone. But overall it was really exciting! And I would love to go again.

Cheers

maddie

Goodbye Girls

2008-05-21T22:17:00.003+01:00

Tonight we said goodbye to a group of good friends. Not anyone we've met in York, but a group we've been hanging out with since last summer. We had heard about these folks from Stars Hollow and were anxious to get to know them. And so began our Sunday afternoon get-togethers with the Gilmore Girls. Maddie and I decided to start right from season one, and by the end of the first episode, we were hooked. You'd hear us saying, okay just one more and then okay, just one more. Until the disc was done, popped back in the mail, the next one eagerly anticipated. With our trip to England looming on the horizon, I purchased seasons 3 and 4 to take with us. It became a family affair.
There's so many things I love about the show, it's hard to know where to start. The deep, abiding love between a mother and her daughter. The charm of a small town. The tight community of friends. The pop culture references. The romance. It all seemed to pull at something inside me. They invited you along to believe that life lived in meaningful relationships with family and friends, is life worth living. It was at times silly and maybe a little far fetched. Jamie thought the writing was sometimes "too precious" (but he did like the poster of Derrida, in Rory's dorm room). And really, like they could eat all those pop tarts, cheeseburgers and pizza and look that good. But these are petty complaints. To me, this was a show about family. About what it takes to raise a family and be a family and all the messiness that goes along with it.

Today, was Gilmore Day at the Smith house. We had chocolate pop tarts for breakfast. We saved the final 4 episodes of the final season to watch tonight. We got out our takeout menus and did it up Gilmore style. Pizza, cheeseburgers and Chinese with pie for dessert (which we didn't actually eat because we were so full). We ate our feast with eyes glued to the screen. We were not disappointed. We cried and wondered who could ever take their place. And then I remembered that in 2 weeks, we're coming home. We can put our t.v. friends away. We have our own tight knit community of family and friends and we can't wait to see you.

A Long Goodbye

2008-05-15T08:28:00.004+01:00

Well, we've just returned from seeing off the students at 6am this morning. But that was just the last step in a long goodbye. The students have been a big part of our social life here, so we knew it was going to be difficult to say goodbye, and that they'd be leaving a gap in our experience of York. So we worked on saying goodbye in stages:

1) Over the weekend we had learned of disposable BBQs available at the grocery store (the students had been enjoying these on the lawn on campus for the past couple of weeks). So we invited the crew over to enjoy our first BBQ of the season, complete with burgers and hot dogs in delightful sunshine.

[The BBQ Crew in our (concrete) "garden."][Chad grillin' up a burger on the disposable barbies.][Josh's mammoth burger made with "real Scotch beef."]

2) Then on Monday night we had a final "banquet" of sorts at Jaipur Spice, an Indian restaurant just around the corner. We invited the students back to our place for some home-baked desserts that Deanna whipped up: chocolate bread pudding (an English treat) and strawberry tart.

[The last supper, so to speak.][The students all chipped in and got us a mammoth chocolate chocolate chip cookie and a lovely card that we'll cherish. Thanks, guys!]

3) Last night we just hung out at the Independent, our local pub on the corner, and then made a late-night munchies run to St. John's Takeaway, one of the student favorites.

4) And finally this morning was the tough part: We met the students as they boarded their coach headed to Manchester Airport to catch a plane to Chicago and on to Grand Rapids. Some of their British friends who have a band actually wrote a song about our group, and as the students emerged from the dorms, they serenaded them all the way to the bus, where a whole group of British students were there (at 6am!) to see them off. There were alot of tears and hugs, and I thought that the sadness was actually a wonderful testimony of how much the Calvin group had bonded with their new English friends, and how hospitable the YSJ students had been over the Semester. As they climbed on the bus, there was a reprise of the serenade as the bus rolled out of campus.

We were blessed with a wonderful group of students. They were always in good spirits (even for early morning departures) and were flexible and willing to roll with the punches when things didn't go as planned. They looked out for one another and were kind to one another, without retreating into any kind of "Calvin bubble" that isolated them from the British students. To the contrary, they seem to have been the highlight of life in the "halls" at YSJ and will be sorely missed. They also were a big part of our lives here--were always kind to the kids, who really came to value them, and were good friends to Deanna and I. It was also a treat to have a teaching opportunity that involved significant relationships outside of the classroom. In short, it's going to take us a few days to get used to them not being here!

Room With A View

2008-05-08T11:15:00.000+01:00

After our exciting week in Italy, we headed up and over the Alps, round the Matterhorn and into Switzerland. The border crossing seemed like something from an old war movie. Guards dressed in combat gear, urging us across in German, with the weather gray and drizzly. As we climbed higher towards the pass, we left the rain behind and were almost blinded by the brilliant sunshine bouncing off the snow-capped mountains. The temperature dropped dramatically and the kids had a snow ball fight when we stopped for a bathroom break. We were headed towards L'Abri, a Christian retreat center nestled in the little village of Huemoz. Jamie was booked to deliver some lectures and they were putting us up in one of their quaint chalets. I was a little stressed by the drive up the very narrow, very steep, very winding roads. In fact, upon arrival it would not be an overstatement to say that I had a bit of a meltdown at the thought of getting back into the car to get back down the mountain to find some supper. This, after the kids and I had to get out of the car so Jamie could drive up the lane way, because of how steep it was. Our stay was a bit of a disappointment. The weather was awful and prevented us from taking some of the hikes we'd been looking forward to. Okay, that Jamie had been looking forward to. (Although, I had gotten a new pair of hiking shoes, I hadn't planned on breaking them in on trails that would require yodeling upon completion) Instead, the kids holed up at the main chalet playing a few tightly contested games of Monopoly, and I did some reading and knitting in between listening to Jamie's lectures (and quite often during Jamie's lectures. How much "Science and Pentecostalism" is required of a good wife?!)

By morning the rain had passed and we headed out as planned to a village called Annecy, just over the border in France. Once there, we picked up some supplies at the market for a picnic by the lake. Eating baguette in France, along with some stinky cheese has to be at the top of my "favourite things I've ever done list". Only a bottle of red wine could have improved it. And perhaps the kids being in Canada with their grandparents!We'd planned on eating a dinner of raclette, a local specialty that we'd not tried yet, but we were foiled again by that late dinner hour. The restaurants did not open until 7:30. As it was only 3, and we'd seen the whole town, we started back towards home thinking we'd stop in Montreaux for dinner. Located on Lake Geneva, it is breathtakingly beautiful and, as we soon discovered, exorbitantly expensive. After checking around, desperate for at least something, and willing to shell out good money for it, McDonalds was the cheapest option, at $80.00 for the 6 of us. But it was not to be. They didn't take a card and we couldn't find a cash machine. I wasn't that disappointed, since we'd placed a moratorium on North American chains and the thought of spending $80 at McDonald's made me sick to my stomach before we ate the food. We hopped in the car, the kids complaining at record decibels in search of something to eat. I won't go into all the details, but it turned ugly. I'm not gonna lie. Let's just say it involved peanuts that needed shelling and tinned ravioli, and leave it at that. Tomorrow's a new day. And, it was my birthday. It was rainy and foggy and cold. More Monopoly, knitting, reading, and lectures capped off by a wonderful evening of fondue with Richard and Karen, the directors at L'Abri. They even surprised me with a birthday cake and a box of Swiss chocolate.The next morning, we headed back to Italy. It was an eerily, quiet trip back through the mountains. It was snowing. There were whiteouts. It's a miracle I didn't pass out. Kudos to Jamie. He deserved a medal for some of the white knuckle driving he did. And the kids have not been that quiet in the car since the time I gave them Dramamine on the trip home from California. Back in Italy, we stopped briefly at the shore of beautiful Lake Maggiore, once a destination point on The Grand tour of Europe. It was my idea to stop there for a quick look. By which I meant, park the car, stroll the Promenade, maybe get some gelato , you know, have a look around. But Jamie thought I meant pull over at the side of the road, roll the window down and take a picture, maybe go the the bathroom at the gas station. The rest of the drive to the airport was also eerily quiet.

We had plenty of time to kill at the airport (even before our flight was delayed) and it was a good time to reflect on the wonderful holiday we'd just had. It was a trip I'd never even thought to dream of as a kid. There is so much to drink up and see and explore. It makes you realize how big and extraordinary our world is, and that it is a gift to be taken care of. I returned to York with a full heart, grateful to have shared such an adventure with the people I love so much.

Scottish "Homecoming"

2008-05-05T21:16:00.004+01:00

As many of you know, I hail from a little village in Ontario called "Embro." Tradition (or legend) has it that the name comes from a quick and garbled rendition of "Edinburgh" (pronounced 'EDinburrow'). The annual Highland Games happened in Matheson Park behind our house, with highland flings, caber tosses, and pipe bands. It seemed like all the churches in the area were "Knox Presbyterian." And whereas the "V" section of the phonebook is so large in Dutch Grand Rapids, back home its' the "M" section that is thickest, populated with names like MacIntosh, MacKay, MacDonald, Matheson, and more. My own ancestry shares this M-ness: on my mother's side I descend from MacDonalds; on my father's side, the Maisley-McWilliams. We even had a fellow named James Muir pipe us out of our wedding. (Deanna, not sharing as much Scottish blood, has less of a soft spot for bagpipes. So the night of the rehearsal, when James asked her where she'd like him to stand, she asked: "Are you familiar with that 7-11 on the outskirts of town?"

In sum, having moved away from Embro twenty years ago, I've come to appreciate what a Scottish island my hometown was. So it was a strange sort of homecoming when I had opportunity to visit Edinburgh this past weekend. This was our last excursion with the students, and it was a fabulous capstone for our semester together. While the weather had projected rain for both days (no big surprise), in fact the weather was almost sunny and warm. We didn't get wet even once.

After arriving at Waverly Station, and taking a lunch break, we all gathered at the Walter Scott monument to begin an afternoon exploration, up the Royal Mile through the heart of Old Town. We began from Holyrood Palace, residence of the monarch in Scotland, past the new parliament building (see below), then spent some time at the home of Scottish Reformer John Knox and St. Giles Cathedral, from which he engineered the Scottish Reformation. We also enjoyed the Lady Stair Writers Museum (dedicated to Robert Louis Stevenson, Sir Walter Scott, and poet Robby Burns), then finished at Edinburgh Castle.

But perhaps the highlight came later that afternoon when we all scaled Arthur's Seat, a volcanic outcropping that towers over the city, offering spectacular views of the entire region. The climb was a tough slog (probably took us about 50 minutes to reach the top), but well worth it.

The next day some of the philosophy majors and I made a little pilgrimmage, first to the tomb of David Hume (a key figure in the Scottish Enlightenment) in Old Calton Cemetery, then on to David Hume Tower at the University of Edinburgh, home to a Philosophy Department with quite an illustrious history. (It was fun to see that the Edinburgh Philosophy Dept has a "Norman Kemp Smith Room," whereas the Calvin Philosophy Dept has the "Jellema Room.")

Then as a group we enjoyed a tour of the new Scottish Parliament Building. Bit of a story here: Scottish Parliament was dissolved in 1707, after the Treaty of Union formed "Great Britain." However, the nationalist streak in Scotland--heirs of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce--grew increasinly uncomfortable with this, and only in the last 10 years (in 2000, I believe), a Scottish Parliament was reconstituted. They then built a new, very un-medieval Parliament building--nothing like Westminster or the Canadian Parliament. By a Spanish architect Morales, I found it quite impressive, including the way it blended into the landscape of the area. After tea in the Parliament cafe, I went to the Scottish National Museum, made a quick stop back at the Lady Stair museum to pick up a souvenir edition of Burns' Collected Poems, then had about 30 minutes to see the Titians at the Scottish National Gallery before heading back to Waverly Station to catch the train back to York.

Edinburgh is often described as the "Athens of the North" because of its rich intellectual (and architectural) heritage. I was charmed by the city, and by the rugged terrain of Scotland--which got me thinking about those ancestors of mine who made their way to southern Ontario. What made them leave such charmed environs? Was it with regret and sadness? Perhaps anger or despair? Were they driven away? Or did they leave with exhiliration and hope? (Granted, the rigors of life in Banffshire are probably a long ways away from the delights and comforts I enjoyed in Edinburgh.) Were they as eager to leave Scotland as I was to leave Embro? Hard for me to imagine.

Some Interseting Statistics

2008-05-01T17:50:00.004+01:00

Since beginning school on January 10, my brother and I have taken the bus two and a half miles to school and walk the same distance home. The bus ride which takes approximately ten minutes to reach school, takes thirty minutes to walk home. The walk home is starting to get really annoying. And since our first day on January the tenth I have calculated how many total miles I have walked to get home and how many minutes it has taken to get home (minus a couple sick days, days I have taken the bus home and the half term break, which added up to nine days total) and I have come up with this. I have walked 177.5 miles altogether walking home from school. I could walk to Chicago from Grand Rapids and more in that same distance! *(the exact distance from Grand Rapids to Chicago is 129 miles.) The time it has taken for me to get home added together sums up to 35.5 hours. I have also walked plenty of other places and wouldn't even try to add up how far i have walked. the total miles walking home is over whelming enough for me. All this walking has given me a "sculpted body" and "chiseled features" that everyone living in Grand Rapids or Ontario will be able to witness when I return (=. These totals are only for 71 days of walking, I still have to walk home for 13 days. That is another 32.5 miles and another 6.5 hours. I'll probably collapse from all this walking on the last day of school.

Holy Island and Hadrians Wall

2008-04-30T19:21:00.006+01:00

Sunday we went to Holy Island and saw Castle on a Rock A.K.A. Lindis Farne Castle, a castle as you probably guessed is a castle: on a rock heres a picture of it (its really big).

What I tell you?We didn't go inside because it was really expensive,so guess what we did?we got some pictures and left! The coolest thing about Holy Island is that you can only drive to it when when its low tide so that means you can't leave either!theres a road that goes to it at low tide and it can get covered up by water WHILE YOUR STILL ON IT!people have to get rescued from the water by like,helicopters and stuff it would suck to get stuck in the water.
Hadrian's Wall was pretty cool it is about...2000 years old! so wee did a little walk by it and got wet and muddy, over all it was cool,heres a picture.

After Hadrian's Wall we went home and went to bed.

More Lake District: Brantwood

2008-04-30T17:37:00.006+01:00

While Beatrix Potter's Hilltop Farm was charming, I must admit that, for me, it was merely a preface to what was a veritable pilgrimage: visiting Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin. It's hard for me to describe the role that Ruskin has come to play in my imagination, indeed in my very self-understanding of my calling. Perhaps second only to Augustine, Ruskin looms as a giant and an examplar for me. A writer who refused to observe the narrow (and rather arbitrary) boundaries that we know as "the disciplines," and even refusing to confine his writing to the academy, Ruskin is the consummate example of a public intellectual who was interested in making his scholarship serve those who would never darken the door of a university lecture hall--including a particular concern for the working classes. His prose is sparkling and dense, and he persistently denounced the destruction of life and fragmentation of communities and families that was the result of the so-called "modern" accomplishments of capitalism and the Industrial Revolution. (Thus my blog Fors Clavigera is just a small homage to his legacy.)

Suffice it to say that I was thrilled to make this visit, and appreciated that Deanna and the kids were willing to share my enthusiasm (indeed, the kids were great, and even quite entertained, I think. Thanks, guys!). What I wasn't prepared for was just how moved I would be by the experience: being able to stand behind his desk, with a wall of windows overlooking Lake Coniston, constituting the environment of his later writing; standing in his bedroom where he wrestled with the demons of depression in such darkness at one point that, in fact, he never slept there again, but instead moved into a smaller room next door; and especially standing in a windowed turret he had added to the house, in which he would long meditate and contemplate the snow-capped mountains that must have constantly taken him back to Switzerland and Italy--places that were his home away from home. I was overcome with a sense of how much he spent himself, almost kenotically, in pursuit of a vision of justice. A saint worth imitating.

Here are some snapshots with commentary:

This is a dining room that Ruskin added to the house; you can't quite make it out, but the windows here echo the Venetian Gothic of which he was such a fan. And just above and behind it, the little roof is the top of the turret I mentioned.

We weren't supposed to take pictures in the house, but Dee said we just had to sneak this one: it is a portrait of Ruskin when he was 38 years old, with me in my 38th year (37.5!). Ruskin had the benefit of those big, bushy Victorian sideburns to cover his double-chin, I guess.

Lake Coniston from Brantwood; I think I could be pretty prolific if this was the view from my study!

Ruskin's grave in the Coniston Church cemetery (he turned down an offer to be buried in Westminster Abbey).

After Brantwood we drove north through the Lake District to Keswick, had tea, and then visited this stone circle just outside town. Like Stone Henge, but much more worn by the elements. Most of the stone circles in England are in the Lake District. Sheep and lambs were huddling around it, trying to stay out of the wind!

The Lake District

2008-04-29T09:05:00.003+01:00

For an island that's not that big, England manages to wow you with scenery that is as diverse as a cross country drive of America. From the hills and dales, mountains and lakes, there is a beauty that is both spectacular and pastoral. We rented a car this past weekend, and headed to the Lake District, on the west side of England. It is one of the most visited and photographed areas and after visiting, it is easy to understand why. It was a pleasant 3 hour trip through the dales, the sun behind us and sheep on every side. We were delighted that is was lambing season. The hills were littered with adorable, fluffy little lambs, kicking up their feet and chasing after their mothers for a quick drink of milk. When the windows were down, we could hear them bleating, almost sounding human. "Mommm.....mommm..." and in response, a very deep, resonant reply. I imagined that it had a touch of irritation about it, not unlike harassed mothers everywhere (especially ones who have been travelling extensively and living in close proximity to their children for 5 months!).

As we exited the motorway, crested the pass and descended into the valley, we left the sun behind and beheld the allure of Beatrix Potter country, with rain at no extra charge. We headed to the boat launch at the bottom of Lake Windemere and ate our lunch in the car while crossing on the ferry. Our picnic blanket in the trunk remained there all day!

Our first stop was Hill Top Farm, home to the woman who wrote the delightful children's books, Jemima Puddle Duck, Peter Rabbit and many, many others. We had just recently watched the movie, Miss Potter, starring Renee Zellwegger and we were charmed. The author was not only celebrated for her books, but also for her work as a conservationist. She was against the commercialization of her beloved Lake District, so she used the money she earned from her stories to buy up the neighbouring farms. Upon her death in 1943, she left the land and properties to the National Trust and it remains today, as it did in her lifetime. We toured the house, but did not linger long in the garden. We were worried about Mr. MacGregor!

Knitting Knews

2008-04-23T10:41:00.003+01:00

I thought I would show off a few of my knitting projects that I've finished since arriving in England. I've been honing my craft for about a year and a half and have just fallen in love with creating colourful things to share with my family and friends. I love the excitement and enthusiasm that Jamie and the kids show for the things that I make and it encourages me to keep trying.

This is the baby blanket I made in anticipation of the birth of my niece Isabella. It was so much fun to make and I learned so much-lots of new stitches and how to piece the squares together. I packed it off to Canada and Jen sent me a photo of Isabella and the finished product. I can't wait to snuggle her in it!Next up was my first pair of socks using the magic loop method I learned in a class back in GR. Also very rewarding. It seems I need to hide them-thye keep turning up on other people's feet! I have several requests from the kids and am busy making a pair for Maddie.

Jack was up early one morning in Switzerland and apparently he was cold. He pulled on my socks and that was all the warmth he needed!
I just finished this pillow top last night. I knit and felted the background, and then did some embroidery on top. I'll wait until I get home to stuff it. Now I just have to decide what to start next!

Switzerland

2008-04-22T20:56:00.002+01:00

It's a little late i know. But my adoring fans have been begging for a post, so whatever. In Switzerland.... it was not fun. It rained constantly and it was very expensive. A 2-Liter of Coke cost about 4.80 Francs, with the exchange is about $4.90. So it was a little pricey. The first day there everything was closed because it was Sunday, for some reason the whole world stops turning on Sundays in Europe. So after driving up the narrow mountain path we got to our 'chalet' we had no food and nowhere to go to get food. So me and James drove down the treacherous mountain pass to the little village thingy. We found pizzas at this place for only $17.oo, of course they were about 10 inches in diameter. As we waited at the bar of the restaurant the waiter brought two little glasses of a dark brown liquid with ice. I assumed it was Coke, Dad had not yet noticed and after further investigation i discovered it was alcohol. I had a stressful day, so i downed it. Dad goes "Was that alcohol?" and i replied "I hope so." Turns out the drinking age in Switzerland is 16 for beer and wine, and 18 for like vodka and stuff. The rest of the trip was us scraping by and enduring the rain.
I think only 48 days left!!
~G

Football Night, English Style

2008-04-22T20:47:00.003+01:00

Coleson and I are enjoying a rather British night tonight: first we had fish & chips from the shop round the corner: Haddock and chips, drenched in vinegar and salt, wrapped in newspaper, in very generous portions (none of that French cuisine silliness about small helpings of 'quality' food!). And now we're hunkered down on the couch watching the Champions Cup semi-final match between Liverpool and Chelsea. Go Liverpool! (Cole's a Chelsea fan, and has the scarf to prove it.)

Venice: The Lion City

2008-04-08T09:05:00.007+01:00

Venice is one of those places that looms across an almost universal imagination--like Neverland or Shangri La or the New Jerusalem. It is one of those cities that carries a mystique about it as if enchanted. On the other hand, it is a place so photographed, filmed, painted, and reproduced that it also has a ubuquitous familiarity about it such that one expects no surprises. Its canals and gondolas and piazzas have been the backdrop for so many movies that one almost expects it to be ho-hum.

But it's not.

Going to Venice was the most anticipated part of our Italian adventure for me. As an admirer of John Ruskin, whose Stones of Venice was one of the most important books in 19th-century Britain, I couldn't wait to explore the architecture and ambience of this floating city, precariously perched on the lagoon. (For those who might be interested in a little more 'academic' take on this, you might check out What I'm Reading.) At the same time, I was a bit wary: Venice had become so encrusted with mystery and magic in my mind that I was worried about a disappointing let-down upon seeing the real thing--that Venice in the flesh wouldn't measure up to Venice in my imagination.

This, I've now concluded is an impossibility: no amount of reproduction, replication, or representation of the city could ever hope to capture its magic, its enchantment, its charm.

The day began a little rocky, I must admit. Working from Rick Steves' rather sketchy instructions on how to drive there, we pretty much ended up in Slovenia. (This was a lot more dramatic than I'm making it sound, but I'll leave it to Deanna to perhaps share the gory details. Let's just say I've since learned that, because of the trauma, the kids now begin each trip by praying we won't get lost.) After turning around (several times) before entering Eastern Europe, we finally made it across the causeway to the Tronchetto, a massive car park just on the edge of the island. From there we caught a vaporetto--Venice's version of a bus, except that it is a massive boat that ferries the crowds of people up-and-down the Grand Canal and around the lagoon. We scored great seats on the very front, giving us a delightful view of the city as the vaporetto wound its way through the canal. Our destination was San Marco Plaza. Here are some shots [with commentary] along the way:

[This was our view perched on the prow of the vaporetto.][What distinguishes Venice, and what drew Ruskin to it time and again, was its distinct architecture. This facade--similar ones are found all down the Grand Canal--is a classic example of Venetian Gothic. It was a treat to see the buildings that filled Ruskin's sketchbooks.][One of the many gondolas shuttling through the narrow canals. Unfortunately, they're horribly expensive so we didn't get to enjoy a ride in one of these.][As we approached San Marco Plaza, at the end of the Grand Canal, San Giorgio looms across the lagoon. This is a class "Palladian" facade (notice how it sort of encapsulates two facades in one?). Palladio--who inspired Thomas Jefferson's Monticello--was from Vicenza and we saw a number of his works when we visited that city earlier in the week.]

We disembarked from the vaporetto at San Marco and first stopped for a picnic in a park nearby (the only park in Venice where people are allowed to picnic--thank you, Rick Steves, for the tip). Then we made our way to the plaza, which is the vast open space to which both tourists and pigeons flock in incredible numbers. Towering over it are three landmarks: the pillars on which are perched St. Mark and his Lion, San Marco Basilica, and the Doges' Palace. All three of these are connected: Venice is known as the "Lion City" because, after 828, it was home to the body of St. Mark, the Gospel writer whose symbol has long been a lion. His body--a "relic" (very important to medieval Catholic culture)--was actually stolen from Alexandria by some eager Venetian sailors. However, when they brought the body back to Venice, they did not bring it to the bishop; instead, it was brought to the doge, the Venetian equivalent to the emperor. (Keep in mind that Venice was not just a city: it was the seat of a powerful sea-faring empire, which gradually reached across northern Italy, all the way to Bergamo, outside Milan.) Bringing the relic to the doge was a bit of a slap in the face to the bishop, and by implication, to the Pope in Rome--thus Venice has always been seen as a hotbed of religious independence of a sort, though it was fervently Catholic, just not necessarily "Roman." The doge was charged with protecting the body of St. Mark, and it was understood that St. Mark would protect the city. Thus the doge built what is basically a private chapel for the body of St. Mark--which would eventually become the ornate space of St. Mark's basilica.

[The gang on the piazza, at the foot of the pillars with the Doge's Palace behind.]

[Looking from the lagoon, along the palace, toward San Marco. You might note that the architectural grammar is very different from the northern Gothic one sees in English cathedrals. It carries hints of more eastern influences (Byzantine, which might feel almost Islamic to us westerners); this is because Venice was perched between East and West as it were, as a trading empire with important connections to Constantinople.]

[From near San Marco, looking back out toward the lagoon. On the left pillar you can see the winged lion, and on the right St. Mark. The lion figure appears everywhere, not only in Venice, but across the cities we visited in northern Italy which were under the sway of the Venetian empire. Thus one can see a replication of the piazza, with its pillars and clock tower, in Vicenza, too.]

[The famous Bridge of Sighs, connected to the Doge's Palace.]

After exploring San Marco and the piazza, and looking to get away from the crowds which seemed to all of a sudden overwhelm the square, we began walking north through the (very pricey!) shopping areas of Venice toward the open market in Rialto. This was a fun, leisurely stroll, with charming little canals spilling off to the sides. We then enjoyed a walk along the Grand Canal itself. The sun broke through the clouds and we just sat and relaxed on the side of the canal, watching the gondolas lazily pass by. Absolutely delightful; crazy, but I think the most fun I had in Venice was just sitting here in the sun, absorbing the sights and sounds of the city. (The kids were a little less enthused about such a sedentary approach.)

[A postcard-like shot Deanna took from the Rialto bridge.]

[One of those charming little side canals dotted with laundry hanging from the balconies. Would it be possible to ever take this for granted?]

[Lazing beside the canal for a little while, til the kids' impatience won out. We made up for it with--you guessed it!--more gelatto.]

Later we started to get off the beaten touristy track a bit more, roaming through narrow walkways with a couple of loose targets in mind: a church that housed a Titian that I wanted to see, and the San Rafael church, which featured in a novel that Deanna just finished--Miss Garnet's Angel, by Sally Vickers. This was also great fun, exploring little out-of-the-way corners of the city at a leisurely pace. It should be noted that in fact the city is quite dilapidated. The water seems to eat into stucco and brick, and there is a general feel of crumbling and decay, coupled with graffiti everywhere. And yet, the enchantment of the city seems to win out: the decay gives way to romance.

[This is on the outside of San Rafael, the church featured in Miss Garnet's Angel. It is the angel Raphael, I think, with a boy and his dog.]

[Deanna took this cool shot of one of the many little grottos and shrines that dot Venice's narrow alleys. I think it captures Venice: a crumbling relic, built on faith, still enchanted by mystery and devotion.]

By the end of the day, with not enough money to actually dine in the city, we made the long walk back to the car park and headed home (the feast of San Guiseppe was awaiting us). Dee and the kids begged for a detour to Slovenia for coffee--so they could add another country to their Facebook "Been There" record. I'm afraid I vetoed the idea (being the one with his foot on the gas pedal). Instead, we made our way across the causeway, already planning when we'll return to Venice.

A Food Tour of Italy

2008-04-05T08:47:00.006+01:00

Gastronomically speaking, it may be said that the Smiths are Italian. In one week, we ate pizza for dinner four times and pasta 3 times and it was a good thing. Jackson is sure that's what heaven is like. With gelato for dessert of course.

Our culinary experience began with our arrival in Vicenza on Easter Sunday. Italians take their holidays (or just plain old Sundays for that matter) very seriously, and all local food shops were closed. We knew this was probable, but the budget airline we flew on had very restrictive luggage policies, preventing us from bringing anything along. Our hosts anticipated this, and upon our arrival, had a list of a few pizza places that would be open. Grateful, Jamie, Coleson and Jackson headed out to forage, and returned with 3 pizzas. Quickly consumed,with some yummy, local red wine, I was still feeling a little hungry (the crackers we'd eaten from the gas station had already digested) and I suspected the others were feeling the same. For some strange reason they were uncharacteristically silent about it though. Perhaps they were wanting to start the holiday off on a good note. I thought this admirable, and kept my silence as well.

The next day, Easter Monday, and also a holiday, meant that everything was still closed. After a muddy, morning hike, taking in the absolute beauty of the countryside, we managed to put together a lunch from a tiny alimenteri. The locals spoke no English, but Coleson had been faithfully studying his 15 minute Italian book for weeks. ( He'd impressed me one evening with a beautifully flowing sentence. I asked him to translate: "I have 2 brothers and 1 ugly sister and my parents are fat." I told him he could perhaps learn something a little more useful like, "I promise to be a good boy.") With no other options for supper, Jamie headed out to pick up pizza. I told him to maybe get 4 this time and the others agreed. A little more satisfying, and washed down with some yummy, local red wine, but really, I could have eaten more. We were all looking forward to the next day when the local markets were opened, as well as the supermercato.

Grocery shopping was an adventure in itself and I had a headache by the time we were done. So many people adding things to the cart that were either cookies or chocolate. The cheese and meat kept behind a counter that we had to actually ask for. Ahh, mi scusi, vorrei formaggio, per favore? We needed to be more specific than that. After all, there were what seemed to be hundreds of kinds of cheese. Jamie got some provolone (that was almost cheating, I think. We buy that kind at home every week). Supper was simple. Spaghetti bolgnese( which our hosts informed us, was not even Italian but rather a British invention) and some yummy, local red wine. We'd also done some sightseeing in Vicenza and had our first taste of gelato. 2 gustos each. So good.

The next day, we headed to Padua to do some more exploring. Charming city: beautiful piazzas, fountains, churches, more gelato, churches, pigeons, churches (...did I mention the churches?). However, the bathroom situation there is quite precarious. I will spare you the details. Jack may be scarred for life. We thought we would just eat dinner in Padua. Rick Steves had recommended relaxing at an outdoor table on the piazza, sipping an orange liqueur and herb-infused spritz, and dining like the locals. It all sounded so simple.

But we were way too early. Dinner in Italy does not start until 7:30 or 8. Some of the Smiths are in bed by that time. Hungry, we jumped in the car to head back home. The thought of then having to prepare something to eat was too overwhelming, and we voted to stop and pick up pizza. They only take about 4 minutes to cook in the pizza oven. When Jamie asked how many to get, everyone shouted "6"! He emerged sheepishly from the shop, his face barely visible above the skyscraper of pizzas he carried. We could not get home fast enough. It was like feeding time at the zoo.

By Thursday, the weather was gorgeous and we spent a lazy day on the farm. The kids jumped on the trampoline and played with the dogs. In the afternoon, Jamie, Jack and Coleson headed out for a hike. That night we feasted on pasta with a sauce we had made from roasted tomatoes, onions, eggplant and lots of garlic. And yummy, local red wine.

We spent Friday in Venice and returned home in time to attend the local festival of St Giuseppi with our hosts, Sylvie and Phil. The charm and allure of this evening spent with the locals was magical. We ate gnocchi pomodorro, lasagna with quail, plates of salami, polenta, and washed it down with vino frizzante. We avoided the horse steak. The kids and Jamie rode the bumper cars, and we were delighted by the music of the band and watching the dancing under the big tent. We talked about maybe moving there and found a "fixer-upper" for sale near by.

[What do you think of this fixer-upper? ;-)]

On Saturday, it was decided we would make home made pizza and cook together with Phil and Sylvie. After all, part of the allure of this vacation rental was the outdoor pizza oven. We picked up a kilo of mozzarella cheese from the local factory and stopped by the wine factory where they pump it like gasoline: 1 euro a litre (actually cheaper than gas!).

Maddie and I set to work in the afternoon to make enough dough to feed 11 people. Sylvie said to count on 1 pizza each plus more for the guys. You are expected to eat a pizza yourself, perhaps 2. The base prepared, it was set out to rise for several hours. Sylvie complemented us on our results. The pizza oven was lit and attended for the 3 hours necessary to get it to the right temperature. At 8 (8!), we began rolling out the dough, as thin as possible, everyone making their own.

It was fantastic. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of a job well done. Or the joy of sharing a meal with friends. I expect that it was both of those things, improved upon by the enchantment that is Italy.

Palazzo Rossa

2008-03-26T07:44:00.004Z

As Dee mentioned, we are in Italy this week, staying at Palazzo Rossa, a 17th-cenutry farm where some of the the buildings have been turned into vacation apartments and guest houses. We are near the village of Longare, between Verona and Venice, and very close to Padua. It's absolutely delightful, and we've already fallen in love with Italy! Here I thought I'd just post some pictures with captions to let you picture where we are.We are staying in this section of one of the buildings; I believe this was a former barn. The hosts live in the left section and the guest apartment is on the right. Inside the arch is a patio with an outdoor pizza oven and two lemon trees. It's lovely inside, too.
The farm has 400 acres and lots of paths for walking. On Monday we walked across the farm, through the vineyard, and here you can see the main estate in the distance.
The kids love all the animals that are here: two dogs and three cats that all come to greet us when we come back. Here they're also taking in the sun.
The kids couldn't quite understand the Italian name for this cute little dog (he's our favorite), so they've taken to calling him by a Mexican name (!), "Paco."
Almost every day the animals leave little "gifts" on our doorstep. On this day it was a rabbit's leg!
This is the view from the boys northern window. Not sure if you can see it, but the snow-capped Dolomites are there in the distance.

Towers and Spires

2008-03-24T12:50:00.003Z

Our Cambridge/London/Oxford excursion was an adventure. I'm glad it's over, only because I was quite anxious about all the logistics for 14 of us--which pretty much came off without a hitch (well, a couple of hitches, but nothing too major). I think the students really enjoyed being in the big city last week. They've been enjoyed York, but I think visiting London at the halfway point meant they were ready for a change, and perhaps will also have new appreciation for York when we get back, too. A number of them enjoyed at least one musical or play, and a couple of the major football fans actually scored tickets to the huge Tottenham v. Arsenal game (bringing home some great stories about the adventure). The students are now on the Easter/Spring break, headed off to various parts of England and Europe. After a few intensive days with them, I find I miss them and, kicking into parental mode, am just a bit worried about them. I'll look forward to seeing them back in York in a couple weeks.

Thursday was our day in Oxford. Dee and the kids headed back to York, so I was a bachelor for the day. The weather was cold and windy, unfortunately, but dry at least. We enjoyed a guided tour by one of my former colleagues whose son is on the trip. He did his M.Phil. at Oxford and so could give us a bit of an insider overview. We went into Magdalen College (home to both Oscar Wilde and C.S. Lewis), as well as Christ Church (home to Ruskin, but perhaps now more famous for the dining hall which was transformed into Hogwarts' hall for the Harry Potter movies). After the tour, I first made a beeline to the Ashmolean to see the Pre-Raphaelite collection, but that section of the gallery was closed. (On Friday, however, I got to enjoy the Tate Britain's collection once again.) After the Ashmolean disappointment, I paused for a cream tea, then made my way to the famous Blackwell's bookshop. It's humble facade doesn't do justice to the vast stores of books inside--including a floor of used book. Fabulous. I treated myself to three books: the Oxford Classics edition of Walter Pater's Renaissance (which I've been looking for everywhere), Orwell's early novel, Keep the Aspidistra Flying, and a collection of poems by Yorkshire poet, Ted Hughes.

I perused these over Indian food for dinner and then made my way to St. Mary's, the university church and epicentre of the Oxford Movement led by Pusey, Keble and Newman. We've been studying the Oxford Movement in my course at York so it was a special kind of pilgrimmage to be able to worship where they did. I was there for a Maundy Thursday service which was a Last Supper service followed by the Stripping of the Altars--a closing part of the service where the congregation antiphonally reads the messianic lament Psalm 22 while the priests and deacons strip the altar of all ornaments, banners, and colors in anticipation of Good Friday, leaving in silence. A very simple but moving service. Indeed, given that the Oxford Movement so celebrated the Gothic, one is struck by just how simple, even dark and puritanical, the space is in St. Mary's. It seemed very fitting, however, for an evening service looking ahead to the darkness of Good Friday and Holy Saturday.

On Top of St. Paul's

2008-03-24T08:47:00.007Z

On March 19, 2008 I Coleson Smith faced my fears and ascended the three hundred and something stairs to the tippity top of St. Paul's Cathedral. I was the only person in my family to go all the way to the top, but it was worth the climb. I got several great pictures of London that I wouldn't be able to get anywhere else. I was at the top of the dome where the beginning of the spire is in the picture. Can just see the balcony I was on in the picture. Even the stairs to top were scary. They were spiral metal stairs that were suspended by a few metal bars attached to the ceiling. They rocked when u walked on them. At the top there was a railing and about two feet between the back of the dome and the balcony. I could only stay up there for a couple seconds before I became overwhelmed with fear. And my fear did not subside as soon as i got off the balcony, because i had to descend those rickety metal stairs. But I'm glad that i went to the top because i could see almost all of London. I saw Tower Bridge, the London Eye (it's a big ferris wheel if you don't know) the skyline and the river Thames. By the time i reached the Cathedral's ground level my legs were still shaking with fear. Because i had just been on what had seemed like, the top of the world.

Buongiorno

2008-03-23T19:49:00.003Z

Greeting from Longare, Italy. We arrived today at a beautiful, restored farm house near Venice. Not much is open on Easter Sunday, so we picked up a pizza and enjoyed it with the local red wine our hosts left for us.
Christ is risen. May His victory over death encourage you and fill your hearts with joy.

Guest Post from Jackson

2008-03-21T20:04:00.003Z

When we arrived at King's cross Station to catch the train back to York, we noticed that we still had half an hour until our train left. I remembered that's where they shot part of the Harry Potter movie and so we went to find the Platform 9 and 3/4. When we went between platform 9 and 10 we started laughing because there's a sign that said Platform 9 and 3/4 and underneath it a trolley that was half way through the wall.
We went to the Tower of London(Which was my favourite stop) and I ditched my Mum and Dad and hung out with one of the students named Josh (he's cool). We saw the Crown jewels and it was pretty awesome. There was loads of diamonds and a massive solid gold punch bowl complete with an ivory ladle. Me and Josh stared at one of the guards for about 5 minutes and he stood stone still the whole time. Unfortunately, when I was with Josh my family got to see the changing of the guard without me. All the guards wear big funny hats. We went to the White tower which is an armoury inside the Tower of London. It has lots and lots of weapons. It had one of King Henry V armour. We also stood where Anne Boelyn was beheaded. That was one of King Henry the VIII's wives.

Going 'Home'

2008-03-21T13:12:00.001Z

Today we left London for York. Traveling with large amounts of people stresses me out. So i was not in a very good mood. We got to the subway station (gross and dirty) and 2 escalators and a set of stairs later onto the tube (also gross and dirty, kinda like a giant tube of trash that moves at high speeds) My mother informed me that London also won this year for 'Dirtiest City in Europe' award. We are on the train right now in our rightful seats after much shuffling and looking for good seats. When we got to the train it was almost completely full, so we went down nearly the entire length of the train looking for seats that were by each other. We eventually found some. We had reserved seats but did not realize this until we were standing in the area between the cars (which is also where our large suitcase was situated) We were standing there and realized that we did have reserved seats, so Dee went to go kick the people out of our seats while we waited alongside the trashiest family on Earth. It was disgusting, they were shouting on their cell phones ("NO YOU'RE DRUNK!", "NO YOU'RE DRUNK") while she gulped on her Carlsberg, and he on his Stella Artois, their son shockingly was beer-less. The rest of their conversation was too explicit to repeat. We then went to our seats, which i am in now and they're quite nice.

My favorite part of London was the Nat'l Portrait Gallery, where there were 4 Andy Warhols.
My mom tells me to write more positive things, but i guess i'm not too good at that =D, she also was the editor for this entry because she is sitting right next to me analyzing each word, "great spelling" she says.
whatever
-g

PS this was published a day late because the internet on the train stopped working.

London Calling

2008-03-19T18:44:00.003Z

Just a quick hello from London! This week we're down south, taking the students on an extended excursion that includes Cambridge (this past Monday), London (Tues & Wed.), Oxford (Thursday), then back to London for Friday. We are staying in the Bloomsbury district which is a very cool neighborhood in central London with a long literary history including Charles Dickens, Virginia Woolf, T.S. Eliot and many others (a couple students and I enjoyed a "literary walk" early this morning to take in some of the sights).

Yesterday we went to Westminster Abbey, strolled past Parliament, then spent time in the Cabinet War Rooms--the underground bunker from which Churchill directed the British forces in World War II. Everyone really enjoyed it. Today it was over to east London for a morning at St. Paul's Cathedral (incredible, despite my distaste for Wren's renaissance architecture) and then the afternoon at the Tower of London. A very full few days!

Watch for more updates later.

(Oh yeah, then yesterday afternoon we went to the National Portrait Gallery [unbelievable Tudor collection] then strolled around Trafalgar Square (at left) a bit before head up Charing Cross Road back to our hostel.)

Day to Day: Monday Ritual

2008-03-11T18:50:00.002Z

As another glimpse into day-to-day life here in York, consider our Monday routine. On Monday evenings, York Evangelical Church hosts a Bible club for the kids (Maddie and Jack's age). Our friends the Jakemans very kindly shuttle the kids over there. In fact, they host a number of kids for "tea" (supper) beforehand, so that puts us down to two offspring at home on Monday nights. We take advantage of this opportunity to make the trek to the Sainbury's, our local big supermarket. Keep in mind we're here sans auto, so that means walking to then stock up on a week's worth of groceries for six. This requires a veritable transformation of the boys and I into little pack mules who come home laden with goods (Deanna somehow always ends up with, like, a bag of bread or something! ;-) We brought our Trader Joe's re-usable bags with us, as well as multiple backpacks; but an errand of this scale also requires us to enlist a luggage cart fitted with a big empty "crisps" box. Here you can see the boys and I languishing under our burdens, just about to the door.

Isabella Sophia McCann

2008-03-11T16:47:00.002Z

Today we are celebrating the safe arrival of our precious niece and cousin, Isabella. She was born yesterday, on her due date, to my sister Jen and her husband, Luke. We thank God for blessing us with her and we can hardly wait until June to meet her,( though we do have a Skype conference call scheduled!)
Thank you Lord, for the hope you set before.

Mothering Sunday

2008-03-05T09:12:00.002Z

It seems I'm to be celebrated twice this year. This past Sunday was Mother's Day in England. It traces its roots to a time when families returned to their "mother" churches for Easter, and then shared a meal together afterwards. In recent times however, most have left out the church bit, and just returned to their mothers.

We had already decided to go to an evening church service for Sunday. We'd heard about a more charismatic meeting at St Michael le Belfry that gathered at 7pm. So when asked how I'd like to spend the day, a morning sleeping in, drinking coffee and reading the papers appealed to me. I awoke at 6am and could not get back to sleep. I finally got up at 7, reposed myself on the couch, was served my French pressed coffee with brioche and selected the first of my 2 morning papers. The children appeared at intervals over the next 2 hours, dropping kisses tinged with morning breath on my cheek (gone are the days of those sweet, baby kisses and squishy hugs, but so is the getting up in the middle of the night. I'll take the morning breath, they can brush their own teeth!)) and adding to my collection of gifts. I'd received potted primroses, and heart shaped toast with honey. When Grayson finally appeared, they presented me with a beautiful pair of silver earrings designed in Cornwall and a box of chocolates from right here in York. A gift for me and a gift to share!

By 11, they were all getting on my nerves. Jamie and Jack headed out for a hike and the other 3 to town centre to read magazines at Borders (much cheaper than buying them) and to spend the pound I'd given them. Yes, okay, I paid them to leave. It was worth every pence.

When the kids got back, they prepared supper -our usual Sunday night fare of warmed baguette with back bacon, onion rings and stilton cheese. We call it "heart attack on a bun", but it is so yummy. We then headed to church where the worship music soothed my soul and got my feet to tapping. We'll definitely return.
It was a lovely day. I can't wait to do again in May.

Fountains Abbey: Wilderness Worship

2008-03-03T21:04:00.006Z

On Saturday we had another excursion with the students, this time to Fountains Abbey north of York, near Ripon. The Cistercian monks who founded the abbey in 1132 had actually left St. Mary's abbey in York (the ruins are now part of the Yorkshire Museum gardens). They felt that the urban Benedictines at York had compromised themselves by getting comfortable--that they had become too much like the rest of "the world." So 13 monks trudged up to the wilderness to renew their commitment to poverty, chastity and obedience, settling in a valley on a river which provided an ideal location for a mill. At one point there would have been about 150 monks and 300 lay brothers who were part of the community. Sadly, as the abbey became wealthy from land donations and wool production, the cycle of assimilation and concern for comfort set in once again. By the time King Henry VIII's agents came to dissolve the abbey as part of the English Reformation, there were only 32 monks left and no lay brothers to be found. The stunning ruins of the abbey are a poignant and haunting reminder of a more radical vocation--and a testimony to our persistent penchant to fail to live up to it.

The building sort of narrates its own history: here in the nave --the older section of the church--the architectural grammar is very simple; in the later (13th century) chancel, the grammar becomes much more ornate and classically "Gothic." This was already a sign, in a sense, that the monks were becoming more concerned with prestige and visibility. (All of this was pointed out to us by a most able guide, Dr. Bob Whiting, a historian at York St. John who guided us through the abbey ruins both by his expertise and deeply Christian understanding of discipleship.)

Did we mention that there are quite a few sheep in Yorkshire? :-)
The kids are really starting to enjoy being with the students, and many of the students a very kind and attentive to them. It's a treat to be able to build real "flesh-and-blood" relationships with students outside of the narrow strictures of the classroom.

Earthquakes and Tea Cakes

2008-02-28T09:04:00.003Z

Yesterday we awoke to a gloriously sunny morning, not a cloud in sight. Over coffee, Jamie and I discussed how restlessly we had slept. We'd both been startled from sleep by a huge bang and then on and off again by what sounded like people up and about in the house. I got up once to investigate and encountered Jack up to use the loo, but nothing else unusual. The mystery unsolved, we set about our day. Jamie went off to work in his pajamas (we have casual Wednesdays here) in our bedroom/office and I decided to head to town centre for some shopping and browsing before my knitting group. As I tidied the kitchen I noticed through the window that many of the daffodils in the garden had lifted their little golden heads, as eager to soak up the sun as I was.

After arriving downtown, I encountered a sale rack in one of my favourite stores and slipped into the fitting room. While admiring myself in the mirror, I overheard a group of women discussing the earthquake that had struck our fair isle with a magnitude of 5.3. It was felt all the way to Norway! It was the talk of the town. From every news agent the headlines screamed of the first quake to have hit Britain in over 25 years. It was the kind of thing we'd expected in California, but who knew they hit here? I didn't even have my earthquake kit ready. I headed to York's central square and noticed that many of the cafes had set up tables and chairs out on the pavement. Considering this an invitation, I put in my order and pulled out my book. I sat quite contentedly, talk of the quake swirling about, sipping my coffee and munching my tea cakes.
P.S. It should also be mentioned that when the kids got home from school, Coleson told us he'd set his alarm for 2 am to get up and watch a basketball game on t.v. The "noises in the night" mystery solved, we banned all future middle of the night sporting events (well, most of them...).

Day to Day: Morning Rituals

2008-02-21T08:37:00.003Z

While we've been blogging about all sorts of special trips and adventures, most of our time is characterized by the same quotidian rituals that characterize life at home: getting ready for school, days at school, kids' practices and concerts, grocery shopping, etc (oh--and washing dishes by hand!). But one of the treats of being abroad is to inhabit these sorts of mundane rhythms just a bit differently. So I thought some might be interested in some occasional glimpses into daily rhythms in York as they unfold here on Markham Crescent (our humble abode is pictured, right).

Mornings look a bit different here than they do at home, largely because all the schools start later--and because we're all fighting over one bathroom! When I have to be at the office, I roll out of bed early to squeeze in a shower before the rush begins. Then Grayson and Coleson shout and fight about which one of them is going to get out of bed first--beginning at 7:40am. (Back home, they caught the bus at 7:15am! So this is one part of England they're enjoying.) Gray and Cole throw on their Joseph Rowntree ("JoRo") uniforms (at right) and then head down for breakfast. By this time, Maddie and Jack have been added to the mix. The boys leave at 8:20am to catch the city bus that takes them just over two miles to school (they prefer to walk home in the afternoon). With their "YoZone" cards they can ride the bus for 50p. Maddie and Jack's school is much closer so they head out around 8:30, walk around the corner to meet some friends, and then it's just a couple of blocks to Park Grove.

By this time the silence inside the house is still ringing in our ears, so Deanna and I enjoy our own morning ritual before launching into the day. This is one of my favourite parts of the day. Since the house doesn't have a perk coffee machine, we are now zealous converts to the joys of French press coffee--dark and rich. And since there's no half-and-half cream here, Deanna and I substitute the indulgence of "single cream." This decadence is then topped off with a tasty bite to break our fast: for me, this is usually a little Devon scone with clotted cream and a dollop of jam; for Dee, it's a piece of yummy brioche (bread with chocolate chips). We watch the quail outside our window, listen to the bells of the Minster, and then head into the day, blessed.

All Aboard the Hogwarts Express!

2008-02-15T19:16:00.011Z

The beautiful weather continued this half-term so we stole away another afternoon and enjoyed a wonderful day with our new friends, the Jakemans who have been such a blessing to us. Maddie has the Jakeman triplets in her class: Ellie, Beth, and Tom. We quickly learned that they were Christians and they quickly invited us to church at York Evangelical--despite the fact that this meant shuttling the 6 of us there each week since it's too far to walk! They always do so with a smile. The first Sunday they had us back for lunch and before we knew it, it was five'o-clock!

So Faith and Alastair suggested a wonderful adventure: driving to Pickering to catch the North York Moors steam train that chugs through the valley in the moors. Word has it that this was one of the trains and sites that was used to film the Hogwarts Express in Harry Potter (though word also has it that every steam train in England makes the same claim).We took it north to a little village called Goathland (near the not-to-be-found Roman Road we mentioned earlier). There we disembarked and enjoyed a beautiful hike through the hills and woods (despite that it began with me promptly falling--quite spectacularly--in the mud).
We found a couple benches beside some laid back sheep who didn't seem to mind our presence and there, in the sunshine, enjoyed our picnic lunch.

We then picked up the path again to Grosmont where we caught the return train which chugged us back to Pickering. The day wrapped up with tea and hot chocolate in the toasty lounge of the White Swan Inn--warm fellowship with wonderful friends.

Remembering Sophie Sept. 18, 2005 - Feb. 15, 2007

2008-02-15T10:22:00.002Z

As if we could forget her. Big brown eyes, fly away hair. Precious, sweet, beloved. We miss her, and wonder how big she would be. Would she be a chatter box or still quietly sucking her thumb. We wait, as those with hope, knowing that one day, we will see her again. In the mean time, we pray for God's comfort and strength. We receive it often through the kind words and the embrace of family and friends. We pray especially today, for Luke, Jen, Bailey and Zac. May you feel our love from across the miles and know our hearts our linked with yours.

Robin Hood's Bay

2008-02-13T14:52:00.006Z

On our second day of adventuring, we headed back to the coast to a little bay nestled between Whitby and Scarborough. Again, it was brilliantly sunny and unseasonably warm. We aimed to get there at low tide and we were not disappointed. As we descended into the tiny fishing village, we were charmed by the sheer beauty of the steep cliffs. We headed down to the beach and combed through the tide pools where we discovered a few anemones and some small snail-like creatures. some people who were collecting them informed us they were called periwinkles and that they make delightful escargot. The kids were a little repulsed by the thought of eating them! We lingered for about an hour and then headed back towards the village to get some chips. By the time we had finished eating, a sea fret had arisen, and the beach was completely hidden from view. It was amazing how quickly it had come up.

Our tummies full, we got back in the car and headed out to the moors, in search of the Roman road we'd seen on the map. We exited the main highway, into a little hamlet called Goathland, stopping often to allow the local sheep to cross the road.The kids had us laughing when they rolled the windows down and began bleating at them. It must have been a pretty good impression, since the sheep would look right over at them. Following the signs, we continued into the hills, parked the car and then proceeded on foot. We were not prepared for hiking through the muck and the kids pointed out that we really needed farm shoes (I think they meant rubber boots!). We wandered a bit, crossed over the river, mingled with a few of the local sheep, (none of whom could point us in the right direction) but the Roman road was not to be found. We decided we would come better prepared next time.

Auto Adventure in the Peak District

2008-02-12T21:51:00.006Z

It is "half-term" across all of England--a week-long school break that sends children and their families scrambling for things to keep busy. Deanna found an outstanding deal on a car rental so we've "hired" a mini-MPV (basically a compact mini-van) for the week to do some day and afternoon trips. This meant trying to recall how to shift a stick with my left hand, and getting used to being on the other side of the car and the other side of the road. (It also required getting used to Deanna's squeaks, squawks, and iron-clad grip on my arm as sitting on the left-hand side seems to induce an automotive vertigo for her. (OK, OK, maybe I was tending to hug the shoulder a bit tight at first!)

The weather has been absolutely gorgeous here (apologies to those of you still digging out in GR): sunny, warm, and dry. So on Saturday we set out on a tour of the country just west of York, a bit south of Manchester. This first involved a pilgrimmage to the little village of Holmfirth which is a bit of a knitters' mecca since it is home to Rowan wool. (We couldn't stretch a dollar far enough to actually buy anything, but I think Deanna enjoyed just seeing the wool in its natural habitat.) After a fun picnic there, we set off south into the "Peak District," a region right in the middle of England with rolling hills, lots of trees, caves, and more. It was a treat. Here's a few pictures with commentary.

Dee and the kids, looking back across the valley toward Holmfirth.We stopped in one of the many little villages and market towns that dot the slow, winding roads through the peak district. This one had a lovely town square where we sat and enjoyed a coffee. The kids spied an Oxfam store (a "charity shop" like a Goodwill) so we browsed the books and found some deals on a couple kids' books. After ice cream, Jack curled up on this bench with his "Horrible History" book about the Stormin' Normans who came to England with William the Conqueror. We kept pinching ourselves that we could be sitting in a sunny green park in our shirtsleeves--in February! (Thank you global warming! ;-)Though I usually consider all driving to be a version of a NASCAR race, the goal of which is getting from point A to point B as quickly as possible, the wending byways of the Peak District discourage that. So after some "animated conversations" about some "navigational challenges" (OK, OK: I did take the wrong exit!), we just took a leisurely pace and enjoyed stopping off at all kinds of view points and pretty spots. This one had a lovely gurgling brook with a tiny waterfall, with sheep grazing the hillside across the way.They've climbed so high you can barely see them, but this is Coleson and Jackson imitating the sure-footed sheep we saw all day long. Just before dusk we made it to the village of Castleton, which boast a number of caverns. This one was called "The Devil's Arse"! The ruins of a castle were perched on the left hill, and up inside the gorge there were flocks of black birds hovering and constantly cackling. It all felt rather Hitchcockesque. After this it go dark quickly so we made our way home through Sheffield and back to York.

Shrove Tuesday & Ash Wednesday

2008-02-08T11:11:00.000Z

Lenten greetings, all. We observed the beginning of Lent in a special way. On Shrove Tuesday, which in Canada (and elsewhere?) we know as "Pancake Tuesday" (that's about as wild as the carnival gets in Canada!), we enjoyed indulgent pancakes before launching into the austerity of Lent. Turns out "pancakes" here are more akin to crepes. And Deanna made some absolutely scrumptuous pancake/crepes for dinner (with "bangers" on the side). I was all for it as it meant I basically got to have dessert for the maincourse: crepe-like pancakes covered with nutella, fresh whipped cream, and chocolate chips, then rolled up and drizzled with just a touch of chocolate syrup. Sounds like mardi gras to me!

Then on Wednesday Deanna and I attended an Ash Wednesday service at the Minster based on the penitential service in the Book of Common Prayer: a service which is simple but moving. We both noted, however, that in secularized Britain, walking around all day with ashes on your forehead does make one a bit conspicuous!

Mass Media

2008-02-05T09:00:00.000Z

Some of you have asked what my days look like, with the kids off to school and Jamie working. Between the watching of soaps and the eating of bon bons, I have been knitting, reading and we've all watched some good movies. Following, are some selections.

On the plane over, The Jane Austen Book Club was showing and while I had just finished the book without liking it much, I decided to watch the movie anyway. I didn't love it either. I didn't think the casting was great and it actually increased my appreciation for the book. Karen Fowler (the author) had also included some interesting material about Jane Austen and some quotes about her from her family and other literary figures, which prompted me to rent Becoming Jane. Starring Anne Hatheway (who was delightful), this glimpse into the life of one of England's most beloved writers was both informative and enjoyable. The movie itself unfolded much like an Austen novel (most of which I've read) and even if only some of the material was accurate, she was a woman ahead of her time and to be admired. The whole family watched (some more willingly than others) and I was pleased when Maddie added it to her "favourite movies" list on her blog profile.

Next up was The Namesake, both the book and then the movie--a moving account of one family's immigration from India to America. The desire to make a "better" life, the wrenching heartache of leaving family and familiarity behind. The struggle to fit in but not lose who you are and to raise children that don't become so westernized that they can't appreciate their heritage. The book was beautifully written by Jhumpa Lahiri and the movie wonderfully directed by Mira Nair(Vanity Fair, Monsoon Wedding, Bend it Like Beckham, Mississippi Masala, all of which we've loved). Of course a movie can never enfold a book in its entirety and there is the power of the written word that stretches your imagination. I must say, I was often hungry while reading, could almost smell the spicy, fragrant currys. So much so that I dropped in to the library to borrow a recipe book on Indian cooking. Grayson and I have been busy in the kitchen perfecting our chicken saag. My mouth is watering even now! Anyway, I recommend both the book, then the movie. Gray and Cole both watched it and it prompted some good conversation.

I've also read Return to Holly Springs by Jan Karon. A little disappointing. I had quite missed my Father Tim (yes, I know he's not real!) who had shepherded me through some difficult times and introduced me to The Book of Common Prayer. Oh well. It was still good to see him again. Every body has off days.

A Travellor's Guide to the History of England was interesting and informative. Being a Queen is never easy. I tell Jamie that constantly.

The Friday Night Knitting Club by Kate Jacobs--also being made into a movie I heard, starring Julia Roberts. These ladies were my first "friends" here in York. A likable bunch. Then I made new friends at a real knitting group I found at a great little shop called "Sheepish".

My Life in France by Julia Child, a Christmas gift from Jamie. He's declared himself not a good gift-giver, but this one hit it right on the nose. Not specifically because it was a good book ( which it was) , but because of the thought that went into it. I'd read Julie and Julia, a hilarious memoir (also being made into a movie) by Julie Powell chronicling her year of mastering Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking. I loved it. And of late, I've been dabbling more and more into the world of "cookery". That combined with the beautiful love story between Julia and Paul Child promised that, no matter the content, the gift was a treasure. It also didn't hurt that he'd written me a beautiful poem to go with it. That Jamie, he's a keeper.

44 Scotland Street. Another Alexander McCall Smith series, another fun read.

In the movie department, there have been some misses. In preparation for the forthcoming Indiana Jones prequel starring Shia LaBoeuf, we thought we should watch the originals. Our children laughed through the spectacular 80s special affects. The snakes and bugs still freak you out. But how about Kate Capshawe? Was she already married to Steven Spielburg?

Amazing Grace-loved it, loved it. Inspiring, convicting, heart wrenching, educational. Thank God for men like John Newton and William Wilburforce.

The older boys are completely hooked on Lost and are well into season 2. Maddie and I are into season 3 of Gilmore Girls and still loving it. Jack is bitter because there are no good kids shows on BBC and we are constantly ruining his life by depriving him of Sponge Bob.

Northern Exposure has also been added to the rotation. I don't know how I missed this one the first time round.

There you have it. It's amazing that I even have time to eat bon bons.

Roman York

2008-02-03T06:52:00.000Z

"The history of York is the history of Britain," Macaulay famously remarked. Indeed, the story of British history can be well told through the microcosmic story of York. On Saturday we had a chance to consider one of the earliest chapters of this story: the presence of the Roman empire in Britain. After a first incursion in 43 AD under the emperor Claudius, the Romans later came to settle and expand more widely on the island. Quite early on, York became an important military outpost of the empire for quashing the rebellious Brits in the north (those darn fighting Scots again!). Thus a military garrison was erected at York (called Eboracum by the Romans), home to various legions over its history. From here Hadrian dispatched soldiers to build Hadrian's Wall to the north. And later, in the early 4th century, after the death of Constantine I, Constantine the Great was first proclaimed emperor in York.

The city is dotted with Roman ruins, particularly ruins of the walled defenses, with small bits dating from Hadrian's era, and larger sections from the late Roman period (300s). Here are a few glimpses:
This is a remnant of one of the corner towers of the Roman wall, now preserved just inside the walls that currently circle the city (which date from the 13th century, with Victorian embellishments). The Roman fort would have been square, with its central building ("basilica") standing where the Minster currently does.
We enjoyed the expertise of a guide (moonlighting from the National Trust) who gave us a two-hour tour of the Roman sites around the city. Here we are under Bootham Bar. (The quip you hear over and over again in York is that "Streets are gates, gates are bars, and bars are pubs." "Gate" comes from the Danish/Viking word for "street;" "bar" comes from the Norman/French word for a barrier or gate. So "Monkbar" is actually a gate; "Monkgate" is actually a street. And of course, what we know as "bars" at home are "public houses" or just "pubs.") Bootham bar, though dating from late medieval era, still stands where the Roman road and gate was.
This is known as the "Multangular Tower" and dates from a later Roman period, with medieval additions on top. Near here we also saw the ruins of a Roman oven, and inside you can see stone coffins dating from the Roman period (though moved here from a burial site discovered when the train station was built on the other side of the river).

English Food

2008-02-02T09:12:00.000Z

We finally started to eat some homemade English food. I had been getting some reheatable sausage roll things, but those weren't authentic English food. So the other night my mom made Cottage pie. I thought it was good and I seemed to be the only kid who did. The cottage pie had beef and carrots on the bottom and mashed potatoes on top. Grayson kept complaining because he says he doesn't eat beef (but he ordered a burger at a pub a few weeks ago) . And Jackson continued throughout the meal to make fake vomiting sounds because he didn't like the pie. Maddie just kept picking at her food with her fork. But finally when Jack heard he could get a cookie if he ate all his food; he asked mom how many bites he needed to have and ate them (but he was still complaining).

Also this morning Maddie, Jack and I had eggs and soldiers. Grayson was upstairs sleeping as usual so he didn't get any. The eggs were good as usual. And my mom said that they were British too. So my mom said that I should blog about it. And since I haven't blogged once, I decided that I would.

School Theater Trip

2008-02-01T20:05:00.000Z

On Thursday my class took a trip to another city in York. It is called Bradford, it is very close to a more well known city called Leeds. We went there to see a play at the theater, we saw ' The Lion The Witch And The Wardrobe'. It was pretty good but it was not a lot like the book. The children were much older than the characters in the book. Over all I quite liked it.The parts I really enjoyed were the parts when the White Witch appeared on stage a giant flash and a grumble of lightning sounded really loud. Another was when Aslan roared, It made my body shake because you didn't know when it was coming and was bloody loud.
The ride on the coach back to school was not so delightful. We were right behind the naughty boys in the class. They did stupid things like sing really badly really loud. It was actually quite funny rather then annoying . What also made me laugh was when my good friend Ellie who I have told you about kept on talking to me in a really high and like something was in her throat voice whenever she said something. In fact by the end of the trip my cheeks hurt so bad I couldn't smile the rest of the night. The not so delightful part was that one of the girls by me had a sick stomach so we had to keep clear of her and it was really hot on the bus, and it took about an hour to get back when it was only supposed to take half and hour.
Unfortunately I have no pictures to show you because I did not have a camera to post pictures with.
Talk to you later!

"Rabbie Burns" Supper

2008-01-29T11:25:00.001Z

I grew up in a small town of just 600 people, about 85% of whom traced their heritage to Scotland. (My own heritage, through my father's side, traces back to the Maisley-Mcwilliams who hailed from Banffshire. On my mother's side, we are descendents of a McDonald clan.) Our town's name of "Embro" was understood to be a corruption of "Edinburgh" which, pronounced in thick Scottish brogue, pretty much comes out sounding like "Embro." And our elementary school --Zorra Highland Park (which Deanna also attended)--was populated by all sorts of McIntoshs, McKays, McWilliams, and Mathesons.

So it was a wonderful treat for us to be invited by Maggie and Gordon to join them and two other couples to celebrate an authentic Robert Burns Supper, a Scottish tradition honoring the nation's most famous bard, taking place the last weekend of January. It was one of the most wonderful dinner parties we've ever attended. Before each course we enjoyed readings from Robert Burns or other contemporary Scottish poets, and even some authentic Scottish music played on an Appalachian dulcimer. And our hosts and their friends were so wonderfully hospitable and humorous, we were made to feel right at home.

Of course the center of any Rabbie Burns dinner is the main course: haggis, with "nips and tats," preceded by Scottish smoked salmon, and followed by a sweet desert with fruit and then Ayrshire cheese and a digestif. Now, growing up in Embro, I had heard swirling tales about the annual haggis dinner at the community center--tales of sheeps stomachs and intestines (along with rumblings about blood pudding!), none of which enticed me to actually attend such a dinner. But none of the horror stories proved true; quite the opposite: Deanna and I absolutely loved the haggis! It was delicious. All in all, the food coupled with lovely fellowship made for an evening we shant forget.

A Day By The Sea

2008-01-29T09:18:00.000Z

On Sunday our family, along with a group of international students, including the Calvin group, boarded a coach bus for a day of fun in the sun. It was about an hour's drive to the east coast of England and the scenery along the way was delightful. Rolling dales dotted with woolly sheep, steeper moors with dried heather, and hairpin turns as we began our descent into the ancient fishing town of Whitby. Presiding over the town, on the cliffs high above, are the ruins of an abbey built in the 7th century. It was deliberately toppled almost 1000 years later by King Henry VIII when he dissolved the monasteries in his efforts to separate the Church of England from the Catholic church. All because he wanted a divorce! What still stands, is majestic.

When we finished our tour, we traipsed down the 199 steps to the village itself (mindful that that was the only way to return as well!), to find some fish and chips, reputedly the best in all of England. We were not disappointed. However, at this point, my camera stopped working and let's just say my attitude needed a little adjusting. If I could not capture Jackson posed under the giant jaw bones of a blue whale, or posed beside the statue of Captain Cook (Whitby's home town boy who founded Canada, Australia and New Zealand), then really, we should just go home! Jamie encouraged us to absorb it all, and we would remember it together. Who was this sickly sweet Pollyanna man coaxing me out of my sulking? I wanted to stamp my feet. What good was a scrapbook layout if I didn't have enough pictures? We kept wandering, and the charm of this quaint little town was magic enough to leave a lasting impression. The steep cliffs, the soaring seagulls, the cobbled, crowded streets, the smell of vinegar carried by the ocean breeze, the fishing boats in the harbor with lobster pots lining the docks and most especially, the feel of warm sunshine on our faces in mid January, was certainly enough to restore me to good humour and to be nestled away for future reminiscence.

We browsed in a few shops where the kids got some post cards, bought some penny candy and then we dashed back up the 199 stairs (okay, trudged) to catch the bus to head down the coast to Scarborough. Think Atlantic City, only seedier. And Victorian. With surfing (sorry Bill, with no camera, you'll just have to imagine it). We were told however, that the best ice cream comes from this town, so in case anyone ever asked us for an ice cream reference, we thought we better try it. Delicious. Not as sweet as American or Canadian, but much, much creamier.

We boarded the bus once again for the return trip, nodding off along the way. Wind blown, sun kissed with wonderful memories dancing in our heads.

Stretching a Dollar to a Pound

2008-01-26T16:42:00.000Z

Living in England is a bit of a fiscal stretch: while we're here, I'm still just being paid my Calvin salary (which isn't exactly lavish to begin with), in American dollars, whilst trying to maintain a home of six in the British economy (it doesn't help that walking everywhere seems to make our 4 kids absolutely ravenous). While the exchange is a touch better than it's been over the past 8 months, it's still basically 2:1; that is, something that costs £1 = $2USD. So as we're walking through the supermarket, we double what we see.

However, some things are remarkably inexpensive here. For instance, Stilton cheese--a veritable luxury at home--is ridiculously cheap. A wedge that would be $12 at home can be had for 75 pence here! We've already had chips (80p) drenched in Stilton and farmhouse cheddar one night!

We've also learned some tricks. For instance, Deanna noticed that if we get to the supermarket about 40 minutes before it closes, all sorts of fresh things get drastically reduced--including baguette, scones and "baps" (buns for lunches). We've also found all the no-name products available. And once I even got 3 bottles of Stella Artois from a broken case for 50 pence/bottle!

Plus, the challenge of stretching a dollar to a pound constitutes its own kind of free entertainment: the supermarket becomes a hunt, a puzzle, a contest. Even the kids join in the game, trying to find ways to squeeze some luxury--like a bottle of Coke--from an American paycheck.

Tandoori Take Me Away

2008-01-24T11:28:00.001Z

Last night we decided it was high time to take advantage of some of the wonderful opportunities available to us at York Minster. We invited the children to attend Evensong with us with the added incentive of dinner out afterwards. In the Anglican tradition of following The Book of Common Prayer, this service would be under the section of "evening prayers". The difference being, all of the prayers were sung by a choir which included children. We arrived for the 5:15 service and were ushered by a kind priest to a "family pew", complete with a door that enclosed us and plush kneelers (not foot stools as the kids first supposed!). It was a pleasant experience (although I couldn't help thinking how much more my good friend Lisa would be appreciating it) and I loved the prayers the priest prayed and the responsive readings and reciting the creed (what is happening to my pentecostal self?). The kids were great if not a little creeped out by all the dead people buried inside.

After being fed spiritually, it was time to find some dinner which lead to out and out warfare over where to eat. No one in our family disagrees quietly. Jack just wanted some normal food (meaning pizza), Gray just wanted some place nice (meaning expensive) and Maddie and Cole weren't really sure what they wanted but it was for sure not what any one else wanted. The nice family dinner we'd imagined was quickly slipping away. We finally stumbled upon an Italian restaurant run by Eastern Europeans that had delicious looking pizza for take away(which is cheaper than eating in-but I don't know why). Jamie and I decided to get that for the kids and that just the 2 of us would have a nice family dinner out! Coleson proclaimed the pizza some of the best he'd ever had, second only to Giordano's in Chicago.

We dropped the kids off at home and headed to the Indian restaurant around the corner called York Tandoori and Take Away. I was a little apprehensive. Could anything be as good as our beloved Bombay Cuisine back in GR? It was fantastic. Jamie got Tikka Masala and I got the Butter Chicken all washed down with the bottle of white wine we purchased at the corner store. Turns out you bring your own! The table of two beside us brought 2. They were very friendly.
Upon arriving home, Jackson informed us they'd been keeping tabs on us. Turns out you can see from our upstairs window right into the front of the restaurant! (That's the view from our window on the left.) There's just no getting away from them!

day full of fun

2008-01-19T16:47:00.000Z

today i went to the Grand Opera House to do a dance that i have been practicing for a week, everyday of the week. It was African themed and i played the drum and danced like i was an African animal. I had loads of fun!
After that we went to the York Castle Museum. It had a ton of facts about the Victorians, which was helpful to me because we are studying the Victorians in school. I was quite disturbed by one of the displays because it had a rabbit hanging from the sealing and it looked so real i could swear it was. But then it got worse my dad replied, " That's dinner for them tonight." i then replied, " That is so rude!" and we ended the discussion with that. Moving on, after that we saw what a street would look like in the Victorian times. It was really amusing, they had a post office and a grocery store and they carts in the middle of the street that people would have pushed around. They had like ice cream and bread in them.

We then went to Sainsburry's to get a FEW groceries. Turns out we got lots of food, over half of them being cookies for 'tea time' says mum. on our way out I saw a sign that says some person has a telly for sale. Since we were looking for a telly i told dad and he came over and looked at it called the person and it is being dropped of at out house to night. Sad thing is we are not going to be able to play the PS2 because we already tried to see if it would work with this plug that was apparently to strong or something, so it got fried (not literally) but at least we get to watch the news or something.
thats it for now!

In Praise of Floors

2008-01-16T23:58:00.000Z

Once each year the nave of York Minster is emptied of its 800 chairs in order to provide a glimpse of how the space would have originally looked in the 14th century. One result is that one's attention is drawn to the floor that would be otherwise ignored.

This reminded me of a poem I wrote when I visited York last May (2007), doing reconnaissance for our current stay. Curiously, even then, I was drawn to the floor.

York Minster

Vaulted gothic arches careen
upward to heaven luring
the eye to beatific contemplation.
No end to the encomiums to height and splendor
of (almost?) Babelian proportions.

But in such spaces of ancient transcendence
and medieval aspiration,
I have always been fascinated by the floor.
The lowly floor: without the dazzle of rose windows
or the allure of gilded frescoes,
kenotic space calling to mind
the rough ground of a stable and manger.
The gnarled stone
trod by saints of millennia past (and not a few sinners).

The floor: cold, hard receptacle of knees knelt
in penitence and praise
by princes and paupers.

The floor: from which those ashamed
could not lift their eyes,
and to which the blank stares of boredom
settled as the resting place of an attitudinal gravity.

The floor: without the crackling spectacle of stained glass,
yet created by artisans no less called,
whose work has supported the faithful for centuries,
undergirding the people’s work of liturgy—
in praise of him who humbled itself from vaulted heaven,
God of spires and floors.

Vinegar or Gravy

2008-01-15T22:03:00.000Z

I read a very interesting article last week in the Sunday times about health and nutrition. The UK is also struggling with the problem of childhood obesity and the need for everyone to have healthier diets. More fruits and veggies, less fat, and more fiber. It pointed out that the average adult only gets about a 1/3 of the daily recommended amount of fiber. The author had some helpful suggestions that were pretty much in line with some healthy habits we've been trying to establish. How then, to reconcile this with the daily temptations of fish and chips and all this yummy English Stilton cheese? Well, good news. Jamie and I went out for "chips" for lunch yesterday and while I was waiting for our order, I was reading some of the posters on the wall. You can only imagine how excited I was to read these interesting facts. An average serving of fries has twice the amount of fiber as an average size serving of brown rice or a bowl of oatmeal. I'm not gonna arue with that folks. It's about my health. I have to look after myself. The only thing stressing me now is, gravy or malt vinegar? That is the question.

Worship

2008-01-14T20:49:00.000Z

Yesterday was our first Sunday that we were able to go to church here in York. (Last Sunday, the day after arriving, we were still in a bit of a jet-lagged haze and somewhat concerned the agents from the Home Office might still find us and reconsider their decision from the day before!)

As planned, we went to St. Michael-le-Belfry, right next to the Minster. Unfortunately, this didn't go as well as we might have hoped. Like many more 'evangelical' churches here in England, the church has sold its soul to a ridiculously "seeker-senstivie" mentality which creates 5 different services looking to cater to the "needs" of all kinds of different people. In addition, they seemed to want to make church as happy and "not boring" as possible. And since we attended the "Family Service," this seeker-senstive mentality basically translated into license for children to roam the sanctuary unattended with various adults chasing as needed, with two "perky" leaders on the "stage" that reminded me of Romper Room. (Did I mention that we also stopped for a 20-minute juice & granola bar break in the middle of the service?!) It didn't feel like worship at all; it felt like some sort of religious version of The Wiggles. If I was looking for child-centered chaos, I could have stayed at home!

So, needless to say, we're looking for a church.

But today Deanna and I had an experience that made up for this: we enjoyed Holy Communion in York Minster cathedral. Holy Communion is celebrated each day at 12:30pm, so we enjoyed a small company of saints (we were certainly the youngest!) who gathered in St. John's chapel. We were a little out of our element, but the Book of Common Prayer has become important to us over the last few years so we also felt at home. It was so refreshing and nourishing, we're hoping to make this a daily, lunch-break habit.

so...

2008-01-12T20:40:00.000Z

school started on thursday. its okay everyone smokes though
they offered me, but i politely refused.
i have a couple friends and they all are obsessed
with one tree hill and the OC.
and they say 'well good'
i like it
whatever
-grayson

feelin better

2008-01-11T16:41:00.000Z

warmish greetings from York!
feeling better and happy,today we had our last day of school till next week. Yesterday I had P.E. and thankfully I had time the night before to catch a bus to go find a swimsuit and P.E. kit (clothes). After school I signed up for the Drama club barely actually it is a very big class! But very fun, we acted like we were a giant board game and we were the pieces. It was well funny! I am also going to join a couple of other clubs like the art club and possibly the net ball club. Right now i am also doing a dance festival thing. It is African dancing and we also play the drums and bongos while others dance. We do that next weekend and when i say we i mean most of the girls in my class including my friend Ellie and and other Ellie as well also Maya, Thea, Freya, Marissa, Katherine, Beth, Claudia, Becky, Dion, Shannon and i think that is all. I can not remember every!body's names.
that is all for now.
-Maddie

My first day of school

2008-01-07T19:18:00.001Z

Today I had my first day of school. We first talked about our favorite 10 minutes of our vacation was. I chose getting off of our last flight when we landed in Manchester. It felt so good to be off the plane from the temptations of eating snacks. Because every time i ate i threw up right after it. which ended up to be a total of 8 times.
My school is called Park Grove and my teachers name is Miss Tait. She is very kind and was very helpful to me on my first day. I met some new friends, their names are Ellie, Holly, Becky, Freya, and Abby. They are very nice and funny.
When you talk to them at first it is hard to understand them. Like i asked for an eraser which they call a rubber and they do not say hot lunch they say "hot Dinner". They also do not call people mean they call them disgusting.(even though they shouldn't call anyone that!) Every Monday we go swimming. We get a lot of exercise because we walk everywhere. and we change for P.E. also except we wear shoes called plimpsoles. they are just plain black slip on shoes. There is also only one sixth grade class except they call it sixth year. Thats all for now!

Safe and (Relatively) Sound

2008-01-07T14:44:00.000Z

Warmest greetings from York! We are settled in after an exciting adventure in travel. It is 2:45am and jet lag has us awake, so I thought I’d make good use of my time.

Our journey began as scheduled when our cab arrived at 2:45 on Friday, Jan. 4^th. We couldn’t all fit after we crammed our luggage in and so thankfully our friend Melissa was on hand to transport some of us to the airport. It was nice to have a familiar face to see us off. We were quickly checked in and had plenty of time to relax and get a coffee. The children seemed mildly excited except for Maddie who was complaining of an upset stomach. We assured her she was probably just a little nervous about the trip.

We headed to the security check and while in line Jamie and I were busy sorting our boarding passes and passports. It was then we heard a splattering sound and turned to see that Madison had thrown up. All over her backpack. And not a little. Jamie and I locked eyes, checked our watches and then dashed to the restrooms. He with the backpack and me with Madison. Let me just point out how difficult it is to wash up in a bathroom with automated taps and NOT automated hand dryers. We did our best and headed back out. A security guard was waiting for us and escorted us to the front of the line, where we were then informed that our family had been specially selected by our airline for extra security screening. The boys went in with Jamie and Jack volunteered to be first asking them if they were worried that he might have a bomb (apparently if you’re under 10, such jokes are still humorous, as no TSA officials immediately tackled him). Maddie and I were then summoned, at which point I asked whether they could wait while she finished throwing up in the trash can. They said they could. Satisfied after the frisk down and sorting through all our belongings that indeed we had no bombs, we were sent off to our gate with 5 minutes to spare. Thank goodness for our timely arrival.

We boarded the plane and settled into our seats. Maddie threw up once during takeoff, again around Gander, Newfoundland, somewhere south of Iceland and finally, approaching Ireland. We had a kind attendant who supplied us with wet paper towels and assisted me in cleaning the floor outside the bathroom.

At sunrise, Jack and I were gazing out the window and were excited to see the coastline of the Netherlands appear on the horizon. You’d have thought it was Mecca for my young, Dutch proselyte. I was a little excited myself to be arriving in a new country. And not just because I could add another dot on my “places I’ve been map” on Facebook. No, I was eager to see a new culture, different faces in the crowd. We deplaned. The children were no longer mildly excited. The wooden shoes in the souvenier shops did not excite them. They were homesick. It must have been all those tall, blonde haired, blue eyed people reminding them of whence they’d come. No worries, we weren’t there long. After only a little blip in the security line when they confiscated my tiny bottle of wine I’d received on the previous flight, we were off.

It was a short flight. We received tiny cans of coke and honey BBQ dorrito twists. We were mesmerized by the lush green of the British countryside and dazzled by the warm sunshine pouring through the windows. Yes, that’s right. Sunshine. I considered it a good sign.

We deplaned again and were pleased to queue up in a very short customs line. We handed over our passports and Jamie’s letter from York St. John’s. They asked a few questions, such as What will your kids be doing? Going to school, we said. Well, they can’t. You don’t pay taxes here. Well, last time we were here they did with no problem. Well, that was illegal. Oh, we said. Okay, I guess we’ll homeschool them then. Then they said to us, no, that won’t be possible. We are denying you entrance to the UK. You will have to leave and apply for a work permit before you can come back. We were then escorted to a holding area. They asked if we would like some water. Maddie said yes, she would. I was about to caution her, but then thought I wouldn’t mind if she threw up all over their carpet. The supervisor came back and said they were filling out the paper work for our deportation. They thought they’d give us a few days to rest up so how would next Thursday work? We told her we didn’t think we had anything on that day. It would be a great day to be deported. She said okay then, we should have this done in a couple of hours. In the mean time, Jamie could go with the security guard to claim our luggage and dismiss the driver who’d come to pick us up. The children and I sat in stunned silence until Grayson murmured something about someone needing to be sued. Coleson mentioned that he couldn’t possibly go back. They’d had a going away party for him, for Pete’s sake. Jack then lamented that he couldn’t go to the Viking Museum and Maddie sat sipping her water and holding her Motion Discomfort bag from the plane. I myself was wishing I had that tiny bottle of wine that the screeners back in Amsterdam had surely drank by now. And was wondering how long until Jamie had a nervous breakdown, and how messy it would be and if he would get arrested. That got me really irritated thinking about having to travel back to the US by myself with the kids and then realizing that we had no place to live since there were students renting our house. By that time, Jamie was back and I decided to go to the restroom to pray a little and perhaps cry a tiny bit. That done, I washed my face, noticing how bloated it was (flying always makes me retain water) and then looked in the full length mirror. Gosh, even my butt got bloated this time. It must be the long-haul flight. I’m sure it has nothing to do with all the Christmas goodies.

That done, I headed back to the holding area and noticed Jamie talking to the customs agent. They were both smiling. I took that as a good sign. Turns out they didn’t realize he was a visting academic. They thought he was on a business trip (the irony). Of course you and your family are welcome here. Yes, your kids can go to school. We’ll just stamp your passports and you’ll be on your way in about 5 minutes. So, I’m not sure what part of Jamie’s letter saying he was a professor leading a group of students and teaching them 2 courses was confusing to them, but we just decided to leave it. We all hugged. And smiled and cheered. And prayed thanking God for his help in our time of trouble. And then it dawned on me. The kids were excited. They were very excited to be going to England.

Countdown to Departure

2007-12-31T19:27:00.001Z

Well, we're in the throes of packing up 12 suitcases for 6 people to depart in 4 days to then spend 5 months in England. Your prayers are appreciated! The kids, as you can imagine, are a bit anxious, though that seems to be waning now that we've gotten through Christmas.

Just for background: we're directing Calvin College's Semester in Britain program which is offered in collaboration with York St. John University (pictured left). So in a few weeks 13 students from Calvin will follow us to York. They'll then take 2 courses from me and 2 courses at YSJ, and we'll be doing various excursions around Britain to learn the history and culture.

Our kids will be attending schools in York: Grayson and Coleson will be at Joseph Rowntree secondary school, and Maddie and Jack will be at Park Grove Elementary. And we're looking forward to worshiping at St. Michael le Belfrey church.

Stay tuned for updates! And thanks for keeping us in your prayers.

almost

2007-12-24T19:15:00.000Z

it is almost time to go to england and i am not looking forward to it. But it is also close to christmas and i am extremely excited. because i will get to see family and celebrate jesus' birth.

love from

-maddie

Virtual Home of the Smiths in York

2007-12-18T21:03:00.000Z

Greetings, friends! Welcome to the "Smith Family in York" blog--our way of sharing news with family and friends of our adventure in York, England. Stay tuned for updates!