So, I’m sitting in my new flat, sipping tea and looking out over the balcony where the Bhutanese prayer flags Tim bought me are flapping cheerfully over three pots (basil, parsley and coriander. The basil looks a bit sad at the moment. It’s been through more and seen more horrors than a basil plant ever should have to. See below) and thinking that a good update is long overdue. The last week or so has been ridiculous, I’ve been exhausted, but at last we’ve moved in properly and I have time to tell you what’s been going on. Lots, basically!
Main things I have done in the last week:
1) Passed my driving test
2) Graduated
3) Had a last party at the old house
4) Moved house
5) Bought a car
6) Visited my new workplace on bike
7) Baked a lemon poppy seed bundt cake (and peanut butter snickerdoodles)
I am knackered.
(New tab: was knackered a rude word at your school? When I was at primary school I remember lots of kids being told off for using it. Doesn’t seem like a rude word.)
It didn’t help either that graduation was on the same weekend that I had to definitively clean and move out of the house. Of course I brought the last party on myself. It was worth it though.
Anyway, bullet points are dry without material. I shall go through them in a neat and orderly manner, so you can pace yourselves through the unbelievably exciting entry that lies ahead. Frankly it reads like an adventure novel of the best type.*
*Not actually true, not even slightly.
1) Passed my driving test
What a relief. Tim passed his the 2nd time he took it, two weeks later, having practised only 1 hour more in the meantime. With only 2 minors. Who wins, in that case?
Me: Passed 1st time, 6 minors, 18 hours of lessons, 15 hours private practice
Tim: Passed 2nd time, 2 minors, 15 hours of classes, 4 hours private practice
I’ll call it a draw.
2) Graduated
Before graduation, my cousin came up for two days and I Oxforded her to the max. It was a lovely way to say goodbye to my Oxford as well. We climbed the tower, went punting, did Christchurch (which is GROSS, obviously), did Magdalen (which was tons better), did the Botanic gardens, did tea at the Rose, did cocktails at Moya, and generally did ourselves in with too much play and not enough rest. I was having driving lessons and practice at the same time (this was the 2 days before my test) and when it was all over I collapsed in exhaustion. Exhaustion mark 1.
No time to rest though because my mother and sister came up the day after my driving test. At this time I was packing like mad and also had volunteered for a study at the Oxford Heart Center where I got my aorta imaged while listening to the Archers. The study was done by one of my favourite lecturers and when he put the ECG leads on and looked at my tracing, he said, “yes, the MRI scanner makes the ECG tracing abnormal, there’s nothing to worry about” and I wanted to say, “MY ECG TRACING IS ABNORMAL BECAUSE I TOTALLY LOVE YOU!!” but obviously I did not, as that would have made for a quite awkward two hours.
The Archers had nothing to do with the study, it was just what was on Radio 4 at the time.
Graduation was the same old parade, though the gowns we got were spectacular – they were heavy and embroidered and had blue and fur trimmed hoods. And afterwards there were Pimms and strawberries on the lawns. It was bucketing it down in the morning, but cleared up miraculously for the afternoon – it was boiling hot inside my gown. Earlier, we’d had a very mysterious lunch with a suspiciously custard-like sauce for the fish (look, it was basically custard, no matter what the dean said) and a weird gazpacho-like soup that tasted like someone had decanted a jar of passata into our bowls and put a few lumps of cucumber in it as a joke. Then our dean as usual left things too late so there was no time for cheese and dessert and coffee, even though it was all laid out. This happened last time as well and as far as I can tell it happens every time – I don’t think there is actually enough time for cheese, dessert, and coffee, so I don’t know why they lay it all out each time, except I suppose it is probably traditional and sod it if no one can actually eat it, how can we fly in the face of tradition? So it was a very typically Oxford occasion and for that I was very grateful.
3) Had a last party at the old house
Ruth and Liz came, which was lovely! Liz said I could keep the bread machine after all, and now it is living with the slow cooker near the bookcase in the sitting room. It has made this room middle-class beyond anything, so thanks, Liz. Thiz.
The BBQ was highly successful. We were predicted heavy showers, but it didn’t rain except twice – the heavens opened awe-inspiringly once immediately before the BBQ and once immediately after we’d all moved inside. Thank you, heavens. Theavens.
The party was also when I was trying to surreptitiously pack all my worldly belongings. It was tough. I finally finished around midnight, and slept like a log until the alarm woke me the next morning. It was not welcome.
4) Moved house
Then there was the cleaning to do, of course. The day after the party, we moved all our stuff into the moving van, and cleaned the house from top to tip to toe. It was hell. We finished around midnight, again. I was aching, and I think my guns have actually doubled in size. And pain. So much pain.
The next day, we made the journey up to Newcastle. We were due to check in with the house at 3pm, and were due to arrive at Newcastle Central at 2:45pm. We had reserved seats on a through train straight to Newcastle, no changes. It was all sorted.
On arriving at Oxford station, we were told that all North-bound trains from Oxford were cancelled, due to a signalling fault at Banbury.
20 minutes later, we were told that a North-bound train would be arriving into Oxford in 20-25 minutes, but it would terminate at Birmingham.
15 minutes later, we were told that the train would be arriving into Oxford in 20-25 minutes.
At this point, Tim and I decided (since all travel restrictions had been lifted), to try and make it to Newcastle by way of London. We hopped on the 10:37 to London Paddington. As we entered the train, 10 minutes later, we heard the announcer say that the train to Birmingham would be arriving into Oxford in 20-25 minutes.
Tim’s plan was simple, yet DARING. The 10:37 would take us to London Paddington by 11:35. We would then hop on the Circle or Hammersmith and City, which left Paddington at 11:40. This tube arrived at King’s Cross at 11:54. We would then sprint to the relevant platform by 11:59 and a half, thus making it onto the 12:00 train for Newcastle, which pulled in at 2:52, giving us 8 minutes to get from the station to our appointment, a 12 minute walk. I did not have my oyster card. I was also carrying a large bag filled with:
1) The pot of basil
2) Two pairs of slippers
3) A mug tree
4) A vase
5) A woolly hat
6) And some ear-muffs
Also, I was knackered. At best I could get up some kind of weird canter. Sprinting was out of the question. I had psyched myself up for 5 hours of intense sitting + dozing, not for jogging.
We were, however, hopeful.
Let’s not go into the details of our journey. Suffice to say that it was an elegant irony that while one leg of the British transport system had broken down beyond repair in the most quintessentially British way possible, the other legs worked phenomenally beautifully, so perfectly that we leapt onto our train with 8 – yes, 8! – minutes to spare, and were comfortably at our destination at the correct time. I wonder if even now the announcer at Oxford is telling passengers that the through-train to Birmingham will arrive in another 20-25 minutes.
The basil suffered, though.
5) Bought a car
This was mental. The day after we moved in, Tim was due to go back to Oxford in order to take his driving test the next day, then go to Masevaux for a gig. He was due to leave at 1:30pm from the station. He was pretty determined we would buy a car first though, so we went to the local dealers. I had to do the test drive, as he couldn’t, and I was never so terrified in all my life. I didn’t kill anyone though, which is the main thing (in driving and in doctoring). It was a little ‘intense blue’ Nissan micra and we both fell in love with it straight away, and after a bit of talking, it was all ours! We’re officially grown-ups!
6) Visited my new workplace on bike
It’s about 30-40 minutes cycle away, along a very pretty route. Got lost several times along the way, and a lot of it was dual carriageway, so had to keep on retracing my steps (wheels?) and try and find alternative routes, so ended up cycling 2 hours, very saddle sore by the end of the day, and my bike finally gave up the ghost so took it in to repair (got lost going there too). When man at shop saw bike, he laughed in my face. Told him I only wanted the brake cable sorted and the bracket fixed. He looked at the bike balefully.
Man: “I don’t want to get too deep into this bike, you know. It has issues.”
Me: “I know.”
Man: “Basically, it needs everything doing to it.”
Me: “I know. (Firmly) But only the brake cable and bracket today please.”
Poor, poor bikey.
7) Baked a lemon poppy seed bundt cake (and peanut butter snickerdoodles)
These were great.
I’ve been spending my evenings watching movies in the flat on Tim’s giant computer screen, mainly because by the evening I’m so exhausted I cannot even think straight, but partly because Tim’s not here and now I can watch all the movies I want to watch without feeling guilty about it. So I’ve been baking while watching, or sewing while watching, or ironing while watching, and it all feels extremely domestic and peaceful. So far I have watched:
Marie Antoinette (Coppola): I really enjoyed this film. I think a lot of critics have missed the point of it (a bit like how I feel a lot of people miss the point of Jane Austen). It’s actually a very thoughtful film.
The Lives of Others: An amazing film, highly recommend it. I’d always glossed over it when picking a film to watch because I’d never quite felt up to watching it before – often I’m looking for a bit of fluff to entertain me in the evenings and The Lives of Others cannot be described as fluff. But it’s not as unremittingly bleak as you might think! (Hurrah!)
Never Let Me Go: Excellent filmed – was this a British film? If so then I think it should probably be the British film of the year. Added to the book but stands alone.
Being John Malkovich: Oh my frick.
I also watched a little bit of Shadowlands because I suddenly had an intense homesickness for Oxford, and because CS Lewis was at Oxford after all and Magdalen no less I thought Shadowlands would probably have quite a few shots of it. Oh my frick. It was a Magdalen fest. There was basically no area of the college left (lovingly, gratuitously, soft-focussedly) unfilmed. It was stunning. I sat there with my sewing gawping at the loveliness of it all and feeling so privileged that a place which must seem so unfamiliar and other to many was a place so incredibly familiar and known to me.
Time to ring the TV licence people and tell them not to write us any more threatening letters as we do not watch TV here. Love and kisses to you all, and await the dates of housewarming with joy and anticipation!
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