(Don’t worry: this is a completely sans-partisan post. And we don’t want to hear your partisan-ing, either. But we love you.)
It is a strange thing to be far from home on Election Day.
It is a strange thing not to get a sticker, or a sticker and a cookie, or a sticker and a doughnut and a little flag on a toothpick (okay, probably the only people who get those are those polling stations with sandwiches) to stick in your button. It is a strange thing not to be caught up in the madness with anyone who can quite appreciate it, despite there being plenty of Americans in this city.
STV did offer to help us throw a little stare-at-the-TV-and-angst party, which would have gathered the appropriately camera-worthy expats into a tidy and cohesive bunch. But, frankly, the urge is to run away from the television because the British press is talking and talking and talking and talking, but they don’t have any information that we don’t, nor will they for another long four or five hours, and election results won’t come in until midnight in both places. Realistically, final conclusions won’t be drawn until Wednesday night.
*checks watch*
*drums fingers*
So, let’s talk about something else.
It remains incredibly beautiful and incredibly cold! Wrapping up to walk to the gym in the morning is somewhat comical; one needs two t-shirts, a hoodie and a fleece jacket worn buttoned up to one’s nose. Adding a hat and gloves completes our bulky fashion statement. We arrive and have to de-layer before we can exercise; the minute we walk into the (overheated) building, glasses fog, and visibility diminishes. Which is probably just as well; at that hour of the morning, none of us is keen to look too closely at each other anyway.
And a short update on the heating front: no news. There are still three holes in the wall, though the spider has *cough* vanished. Somehow.
We are… bewildered. And mopping up condensation from the windowsills and leaving towels down so that the water from the intense cold outside doesn’t soak into the floor. We are beginning to get grumpy: we don’t want to move. And so we’re going to be a thorn in these people’s sides until they do what we want.
(Here’s hoping that actually works.)
Previously identified merely as “a thing with feathers,” hope is now an insane little group of crocuses growing at the base of the trees at the University. We previously thought them to be autumn crocuses, but those are actually not true crocuses, and are lavender. These are white, and …confusing us. Does this mean we are to have a mild winter? (1°C degree daylight temperatures on Monday notwithstanding.) Does this mean the flowers are growing frantically so they will re-seed (or re…rhizome) themselves because it will be a really fierce winter?
It’s probably Option C, and these beauties are another kind of autumn crocus we hadn’t previously encountered.
D. has received the unofficial notification of passing his M.Litt, which means that we’re now free to reapply for student visas. Unfortunately, applying from here means a hefty fee and the possibility of a ten week wait (or more), so we’ll be going to Los Angeles in person to go back to the building where we’ll be briefly questioned and patted down, into the spooky elevator which has no buttons and only goes one place, be wanded and searched again and visit the British Embassy. This time, though, it’ll be so much less anxiety producing than last time, and we hope to catch up with some friends — and maybe go to the beach! — while we are there.
The first time we came to the University, we walked around marveling at everything. Eventually, our perambulations led us to the south front lawn of Gilbert Scott Hall, where we found what is commonly called “Lord Kelvin’s Sundial.” According to University literature, it’s actually called The Terrestrial Globe, and it may have been made by Lord Kelvin himself – or it may be the work of his father James Thompson who was the professor of Mathematics at the University from 1832 until 1849. We’ll have to get a picture when the light is different; — the lines of the countries shown on its surface reflect a different reality than what we see today.
And there’s your cool fact for today.
Finally, we’d planned on splitting up our upcoming time at home to stay with family and non-blood-related-family, in order not to be completely annoying and overstay our welcome. Meanwhile, we’ve heard a rumor that T’s mother is… repainting the guest room, so… Um.
*cough*
Fair warning, guys. We think Mom’s pulling rank…
– D & T
(So, did it work? Were you even briefly distracted? Good, good…)
I’m bummed–I didn’t get an “I Voted” sticker this morning. Booo.
Yeah! For the passing of the degree….as if we were worried.
Wearing my “I voted” sticker, but it took a long time in line to get it. Spain is calling, so there will be plenty of rooms with beds with no paint fumes. Just an option.
“But, frankly, the urge is to run away from the television because the British press is talking and talking and talking and talking, but they don’t have any information that we don’t, nor will they for another long four or five hours…”
I feel the same way with ALL of the media at the moment.
Dear me, I have so missed reading your blogs. So glad I’me beginning to reclaim things I love.
Was there something special about today 😉 ?
Totally non partisan…. Every time I find out something new about the electoral process in the US, I appreciate the Canadian system. Todays new tidbit…All poles do not close at the same time. They differ from state to state! Who knew? Here the poles are opened from 8am to 8pm in each time zone. And we only vote on who is going to be elected. No other issues are on the ballot. The paper ballot.
I’m hoping that you have some nice warm sunny weather when you make your way back to the States! YOu deserve it!
Ah, the foggy glasses problem. I walked into three people today in the subway because I couldn’t see.