It must be almost time to post some pictures from Tighe's visit this winter! We hired a car (Tighe drove), and went on a monumental road trip through the highlands, visiting Tighe's ancestral home of Tomintoul, and a castle or two.
    | There are a bunch of things that happened last summer, and I never told you guys about all of them. First, my cousin Erik came over. He came to Glasgow and didn't know where I lived, so went to talk to the University. The University gave me a call, and then he came over and stayed with us for a while. While he was here, our friends Robb and Andrew came too, so we all went some places and saw some cows and a ruined castle and a river and a dam with a fish ladder (in Pitlochry). We also spent a day in Edinburgh hanging out and looking tough. After everyone left and Heather's family came, and then they left, and September came, we realized that things were getting colder, darker, and wetter, so Heather and I went camping (near a town called Kilmahogg). In Scotland you can camp where ever you feel like camping as long as you're polite and don't scare the cows or chickens, so we camped in a ruined building of some kind up on a hill. There were sheep all around us and we could hear them all night. I think I have a recording somewhere of all the sheep, so I could post that later. Anyway, here are some pictures. As always, there are more on Heather's Photobucket site. I learned in my yearbook class that it's bad to leave too much white space in between pictures and text, so I have to write something here. |
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There is among poets a time-honored tradition of writing one's best work in dreams; the most famous example is Xanadu, which came to Coleridge in (what we will call, for argument's sake) a dream. Apparently, the very plan for Kubla Khan's pleasure dome was itself inspired by a dream (this from the all-knowing Wiki).
Upon waking this morning, I realized that my muse had struck in the night, and I immediately called Heather to pen down the lines I had been given in my sleep. The poem that appeared on the page suggests to me that the muse enjoys a greater synergy with subjects who, like Coleridge and John Lennon, are willing to invest the extra capital in chemical aids. It is possible that the historical pattern will hold true, and that this will be my greatest-ever work of poetry. Fortunately, my career depends solely upon my prose skills.
I'd like to add that my muse seems to have been consulting the works of Isaac Watts, which collaboration I fear I may have brought upon myself: his hymns are the subject of a large portion of my thesis.
It is with mixed feelings that I submit, for your edification and for posterity, my dream-poem, which I wrote upon a phantom chalk-board below my friend Tim Petersen's composition in Icelandic, a work of incomparable genius which is lost forever in the mists of slumber:
I am the earth.
The earth was a tree.
Its people were happy
'Til I sat on a bee.
They cried out with one voice
To object to the thing,
And I found that their noise
Was as bad as the sting.
Here's a really nice song from Monteverdi, from before Italian opera got annoying! (link) The soprano is Olga Pasiecznik from the Ukraine, and the group is a Polish chamber ensemble called Altri Stromenti. You can buy their CD here if you want, on Magnatune. That would be cool...
P.S. I got the album image from the Magnatune website.
Here are the words:
| Confitebor tibi Domine in toto corde meo, in consilio justorum et congregatione. Magna opera Domini: exquisita in omnes voluntates ejus. Confessio et magnificentia opus ejus, et justitia ejus manet in sæculum sæculi. Memoriam fecit mirabilium suorum, misericors et miserator Dominus, escam dedit timentibus se. Memor erit in sæculum testamenti sui; virtutem operum suorum annuntiabit populo suo, ut det illis hereditatem Gentium; opera manuum ejus veritas et judicium. Fidelia omnia mandata ejus; confirmata in sæculum sæculi, facta in veritate et æquitate. Redemptionem misit Dominus populo suo; mandavit in æternum testamentum suum. Sanctum, et terribile nomen ejus; initium sapientiæ timor Domini. Intellectus bonus omnibus facientibus eum; laudatio ejus manet in sæculum sæculi. Gloria Patri, et Filio, et Spiritui Sancto. Sicut erat in principio, et nunc et semper, et in sæcula sæculorum. Amen. | I will thank the Lord with all my heart in the council of justice and the assembly. Great [are] the works of the Lord: [they are] sought out in all his goodwill. his work [is] confession and grandeur, and his justice remains forever. His miracles were made into legends, the merciful and gracious Lord, he gave food to those who fear him. The memory of his promise will be forever; the goodness of his works he will announce to his people, thus let him give that heritage of the Gentiles; the works of his hands [are] truth and justice. All faith [is] entrusted to him; and established forever, made in truth and equity. The Lord sent redemption to his people. he commanded his covenant forever. Holy and frightful [is] his name; fear of the Lord [is] the beginning of wisdom. A good understanding to all of them who act; the praise of him endures forever. Glory to the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, and [is] now and always, and [will be] forever. Amen. |
Hi! It's December! I believe we last met in October, when I was telling you a story about Norway. I'm skipping several chapters (again) in order to update you on more recent happenings, specifically our pre-Christmas trip to Prague (the ancient city of). Prague is a dang old town - it started in the 11th century or so, and even the "New Town" goes back to the 1400s. As our guidebook said, when in Prague, never trust the word "new." Highlight: best hot mead ever!
The Praguers have a pretty high opinion of their city, too - they've been calling it Mater Urbium, the Mother of Cities for several centuries. The picture here is of the famous Astronomical clock from the 1400s, the Old Town Square, and the Týn cathedral.
The main reason I'm being so prompt about all this, however, is what we saw outside of Prague in the town of Kutná Hora. Absolutely the best part of our trip was seeing the ossuary there. This "bone church" is decorated with the bones of roughly 40,000 people, most of whom died in
a plague in the 14th century. The collection includes four free-standing bone pyramids, huge bone vases, a bone coat of arms (note the bone raven in the lower right-hand corner, pecking at the eye of a skull), and a bone chandelier containing every kind of bone in the human body.
There are a couple more pictures from Prague that I think are worth posting: One from the TV tower with giant babies, and the other from a cool baroque cemetery. As usual, more pictures are available from Heather's Photobucket page here.
ollowing a tearful parting with brother Jeff, gone to pursue his fortune in America, the Ehlis make their way north, accompanied by their trusty and strikingly handsome son-in-law, Joel. The voyage across the North Sea is long and perilous, but at last our craft makes landfall at the village of Sandefjord, where we manage to hire a worthy vehicle to convey us for the rest of our journey. Late in the night, the dauntless Ehlis are joyfully re-united with their intrepid and tireless Norwegian kinswoman, Sigrun, who is to accompany and direct us. Sigrun plies us with food and wine, and we rest for the night.
We moved to a new flat 3 weeks ago, but we haven't put up pictures of the new place yet. There are three reasons for this:
But, hey, it's warm, bright, and comfortable, and the view's not bad.
You don't even like me.
You wish that I had no legs.
You wish I had a wooden leg.
You wish I had an immaculately manicured handlebar mustache
And an allergy to aluminum foil.
You wish I spoke the language of the squirrels.
You wish I could teach you to navigate by the stars.
And you wish that I wore a red t-shirt everywhere.
You wish I smelled like bleach.
You wish I could water-ski barefoot.
And you wish I was a professional potato farmer.
  | I can't remember what it was, though. He and I and Pastor Matt went to some caves, deep inside Corsencon Hill (Robert Burns' substitute for Parnassus), near New Cumnock. These caves were previously used by the Craigdullyeart Limeworks, so there's a lot of good 19th-century retaining-wall type stuff inside. We also encountered wild, rabid, glowing ducks (not pictured). There are a couple more cave pics here. |
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As promised, here is audible evidence that we were, indeed, walking in the forests around Bothwell castle, in which the discerning listener may indeed hear the chirping of Scottish birds and the buzzing of Scottish bees.
Near scenic, rural Uddingston, by the verdant banks of the upper Clyde, lies the impressive, hulking ruin of Bothwell Castle. This medieval/renaissance castle (it's a mix, you know!) is the best one Heather and I have visited so far, for two main reasons: 1. It's actually a castle- not a mall, a tourist trap, or a museum (though they have their place). 2. They let you climb it! Also amazing is the forested land surrounding the castle, which acts as a buffer against encroaching (modern) civilization. Remind me to post a sound clip of the birds chirping... Heather has posted an album of pictures from our recent visit. I especially enjoy the picture of the castle earthworm.
