The Radcliffe Camera, Oxford

Oxford is, and will always be, an enviable combination of beauty and Intellect. And, a place you will always be sure to find a good bowl of soup!

Wandering around all those towers and spires is hungry work, and at about mid-day, one simply must find sustenance. A bowl of Carrot Ginger soup is just the ticket, and I enjoyed one on this warm September afternoon. 

The University Church of St Mary the Virgin is a very good spot for sustenance. Not to mention crowds of young people talking and eating as if there were no tomorrow. And why would people be eating at St Mary's church? you might ask. Well, they are eating there because  St Mary's has a smashing cafe where they make their own bread and soup and salads and everything FROM SCRATCH. If you happen to stroll past the church around lunchtime you will encounter the most amazing aromas. And you will really not be able to resist.

The SconeLady finds sustenance

The Radcliffe Camera, Oxford

https://www.flickr.com/photos/harshilshah/2435211026/

The cafe at St Mary's is simply crammed with people. People in line, people requesting food, people pouring water into their glasses, people carrying their trays to minuscule tables to sit with strangers, and people (most notably) serving all of this humanity - with grace. St Mary's is a grace-full place.

Inside the church, if you look closely you will find the picture of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Cranmer, one of the 'Oxford Martyrs'. I have written about Mr. Cranmer before in this space but I am too sleepy to find the post and ascertain whether I am now repeating my own self. But that doesn't really matter, because hearing of Cranmer, and Hugh Latimer, and Nicholas Ridley is always worth a bit of a repeat.

Unwilling to deny their faith, the three were indeed burned alive (horrid thought) on Broad Street, at the behest of Queen Mary (Cranmer was martyred 5 months after the others). Their trial had taken place inside St Mary's church, and you can see where part of a pillar was cut away in order to place the stage upon which they stood to answer their accusers. The church today, as you walk in, is quiet and humble, and even sacred in its attitude. Visitors are invited to enter, and if you are there to participate in a church service, you are verbally welcomed and made to feel so. This same sweetness sifts on over into the cafe, where the servers offer that same sort of kindness. I loved it.

And so, there I sat, outside of the University Church of St Mary the Virgin, eating my bowl of Carrot and Ginger soup. I sat looking toward the Radcliffe Camera. It is spectacular when you are near it; even more so if you climb the high tower to the top of the church. There you will see it, and Brasenose College, All Soul's College, the Bodleian Library, the Sheldonian Theatre, and the Divinity School. To be in proximity to so many Treasures is to be incredibly blessed, and beyond. Just writing about it makes me have itchy feet, again! Oh dear.

Really, Readers - you must go.

See you along the way!

the SchoneLady

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/harshilshah/2435211026/">Harshil.Shah</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

The Very Best In Small Town Diners (2)

Previously..

The SconeLady's husband walked from the truck to where I stood at the corner. He had come in answer to my enthusiastic call about a cafe I had never seen before. And they were open for breakfast! 'Open for breakfast' has such a nice ring to it, don't you think? One can always smell the pancakes and sausage sizzling away in there even before walking through the door. I had, and longed to go in.

So in we walked. Kevin's Cafe looked good at first glance. And was that french toast that we smelled? We grabbed a booth, keeping an eye out for a waitress in hopes of some coffee. We finally saw her, but realized she was the only one. Hmm. It could be a while. To bide our time, we sat watching the cook pouring out and flipping the pancakes, sifting through the orders as they piled up. We knew that our three would just love sitting on those cafe stools, watching that guy cooking (they would probably want to 'help').

I hoped the place would have a kindly and meddlesome proprietor, quick and witty, with bits of wisdom flying in all directions as she worked. But you know, it didn't really turn out to be anything like The D and F Cafe. I shouldn't have expected it, but ever since Fairie closed its doors all those decades ago, nothing else has quite lived up to that one-of-a-kind spot. It will just have to live on in our memories.

Later, while flipping through an old H.S. yearbook I came across a treasure - a photo of Dale and Fairie in the D and F!

Don't they look terrific? They had sponsored our yearbook, therefore getting their picture in the back section of it. I checked all my yearbooks and, sure enough, there they were in all of them. It was an Institution, one that we all just took for granted would always be there. I believe several cafes have tried moving in and making a go of it, but nothing ever 'took'. They always closed not long after opening. So the place stands empty. 

Whenever we visit, one of our first stops is to Main Street, where the Delph's Meat Market had been, where the town Library still was, and where Dale and Fairie used to hold forth day after day. Knowing everyone who walked through their door, and welcoming them all like Family.

I still haven't figured out one thing, though - do any of you know what those two bottles are that Dale is resting his beefy arm on? I'd like to know.

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

The Nicest Twitterer

I haven't worked it out yet, but for some reason Josh Groban is the only person on my Twitter feed. At least - I think he is. Someone helped me to know how to sign up for a Twitter feed, and then suggested that I follow Josh Groban. So I did sign up, did 'follow' the singer, and that's about as far as Twitter went, in my life. 

Josh Groban

https://www.flickr.com/photos/madaroni/4963752407/

I haven't looked at it in over two years.

But every once in a while I do receive a message about something Mr. Groban has tweeted about. I hear the little beep, which signals me when a message comes in, and then I delete it, and that is pretty much that. I know, it's lame. I should at least figure out how to be a better follower, or how to check up on what other celebrities are thinking about at any given moment. But somehow, I haven't managed to work up the interest.

I am told that even our President has a Twitter account. That he 'tweets' out whenever he has a comment to share with the world. That he actually stole the 'twitter record' from Justin Bieber, but that Justin Bieber was fine with it. But as I said, I missed all of this excitement. When I did hear about it I was shocked that the President and Justin Bieber could actually be mentioned in the same paragraph of a news article. What's this world coming to.

So about a week ago I was out walking when the beep went off and a tweet alerted me that Josh had just favorited a tweet by Roger Federer that Roger Federer had just met someone on the plane to Delhi. I wasn't sure who, but they were both in First Class. So I deleted it, but it did remind me that it is the month of December and high time I listened to one of the best Christmas albums ever. Josh Groban's 'Noel' is just that. Click here, and you will be delighted, and moved, and sent scurrying to iTunes or Walmart to get the whole CD! I am listening to it right now and fully plan to sit back, next to the lovely Christmas tree, and soak it all completely in.

So I don't really mind that Josh Groban tweeted me. In fact, I am glad he did. Maybe I'll tweet him back, if I can figure out how. He is probably one of the nicest tweeters Twitter has on their Twit-List. 

Or whatever it is that they call it.

Josh Groban in concert

https://www.flickr.com/photos/rogerzmusic/5834613509/

See you along the way!
the SconeLady


photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/madaroni/4963752407/">madelinewright</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/rogerzmusic/5834613509/">thezenderagenda.com</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>

Waiting (2)

Somewhere north almost a thousand miles from here, a family is preparing to say goodbye to someone wonderful. Our phone had rung and the words, "Your aunt is in Heaven now," held us speechless as we sat listening. We had been awaiting News ever since the word 'Stroke' had stopped us in our own tracks. 

Did I say she is wonderful? It is true! I think of Vera with a perpetual smile on her face. She never met a person she did not like, and welcomed any and all upcoming new spouses into the family immediately. I was one of these, gathered into a huge hug at our first meeting. Smiling and hugging - that has always been Vera. Oh - and laughing, always laughing.

You saw this quality also in her children, my husband's cousins. It was largely due to Vera's sweetness that her closest loved ones adopted this same broad acceptance. It sort of leaked on down, from her. Her family gatherings have always been filled with jolly people - from tiny babies to toddlers, to young and healthy teens running around everywhere, to parents young and older, not to mention the friends everybody had. Those, too, were welcomed.

And so they, and we, say our farewells. Someone mentioned kindly, "She is gone, but not forgotten..", which is utterly true. No one could forget Vera, who was everything a person would wish to remember. Recently her family gathered around her, holding her hands as the gentle Hospice ladies ministered. Reaching for a single word that could describe her, a loved one said, "Unconditional. That is what she was. Perfectly and thoroughly Unconditional."

We love you, Aunt Vera. This Farewell is not forever.

Kites (2)

"With tuppence for paper and string.."

What do we mean by tuppence? one might ask. Well, you can click on that word right now to find out, or I can simply tell you that it represents two pence. At least, until 1971 it did. In England.

https://www.flickr.com/photos/seattlemunicipalarchives/4134866900/

But the more important issue here is that it is not very much money! And with it you can (or could) buy whatever you needed to build a kite: paper and string! I am not sure that people very often build their own kites now, but they used to. And I heard today of one such person. My brother.

It must have been the early 1960s, and our Uncle Jimmy was visiting (Uncle Jimmy was always good for adventures, some of which we won't post about - haha!). We loved Uncle Jimmy and looked forward to his visits very much. For one thing, he was young. His mother was our mother's mother and both his mother and our mother had babies at about the same time. This was a surprise, of course, but we all agreed that it was a jolly good one.

He and my brother decided one day to build their own kite. The winds were perfect for it, and for the moment all responsibilities were laid aside. We lived less than a block from the school, and so the baseball diamond was literally a playground for us. All sorts of great shenanigans took place there, in the days before children's mothers became afraid of shenanigans.

from Air All Around, by Tillie S. Pine and Joseph Levine

Illustrated by Bernice Myers, Whittlesey House

1960

https://www.flickr.com/photos/elvaundine/2173696885/

My brother read yesterday's blog post, and then shared this story with me:

"I remember building my own kite, along with Uncle Jimmy, many times; and we built one once that we tied multiple rolls of strings to [probably about 10 balls of at least 100 feet or more…and it was strong string], and flew it from the high school football field out towards {the cannery}. You could hardly see it at the end of the string, but you could sure feel it pull.  

It was a big kite, too, (5'6" tall, 3' across) made of multiple layers of newspaper pasted together to get enough of a sheet to cover the kite. I will never forget it. And, what a tail it had…mom gave us the materials for the tail—I think it was an old bed sheet, ripped into strips, with bowties all down the tail. She loved seeing it go out over the town. You girls went up to get her, and she came down from the house all smiles, and just couldn’t believe what we had done.  

It flew for several hours, until it was getting too dark. We couldn’t haul it in….the wind was too strong way up there, and we finally just broke it loose. So, it probably ended up in {a farmer}’s wheat field, or something.  

Thanks for bringing back the good memory!!!"

Now doesn't that sound just fine? With seemingly all the time in the world, on a fine spring Saturday, with an adventurous young uncle willing to work at it with you? Just think of how many decades ago that was, and yet - it still rings in their memories, never to be forgotten.

Since we are thinking of kites, I have picked out a little gift of a song for you. Click here, and let your own toes begin to tap ('Saving Mr. Banks', Let's Go Fly A Kite). Do take note of the man in the white shirt - I just love that guy!

See you along the way!

the SconeLady

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/seattlemunicipalarchives/4134866900/">Seattle Municipal Archives</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/">cc</a>

photo credit: <a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/elvaundine/2173696885/">Middle-earth Mama</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/">cc</a>

Kites

We had begun to think that it would be a quiet evening. Nothing was planned. The social calendar lay empty. The SconeLady sat perusing photos the way she always does when it is time for a fresh post. Suddenly one of our phones rang.

"We've got a customer!" one of us said.

Soon we heard the lovely daughter's voice sharing an idea. A great idea. "We're going to the park to fly kites - want to meet us?"


Within mere moments we had flown our coop, and both vehicles drew up to the park together.

"Grandpa! Grandma! You came!" said several voices, as children began spilling from the van. "We're going to FLY KITES!" 

Kite flying is a family tradition, much beloved. We all hold a great appreciation for the effort and the stamina that go into something like a kite. There is a kind of patience involved, and persistence that even the smallest can learn.

So out came the kites and the strings. Everybody dashed up the hill to the top, just as the sun was dipping downward behind the nearby mountains. It was dusk. It was lovely.

And all sorts of conversations bubbled up during the launch. School was discussed in between the plunging of kites and the untangling of strings. There were several false starts, and then - UP they went at almost the SAME TIME.

Someone saw the wind pick up and catch her kite. "Look mommy!", she called.

"I'm up, I'm up!" shouted her brother, who had been flying kites the longest. The kites were only feet away from each other, but this bothered no one. Grandpa was there, ready for any eventuality. All would be well.

The whirlwind of flying and shouting made me think of flying kites with this young mother and her brother, at numerous times and in numerous places. Lots of things had changed since those times, but this thing had not. The principles of flight remained the same, and the fun of it was ageless. 

Are you a young mother or father, and do you have a long afternoon or evening ahead of you?- with nothing to do? - Well grab your kids and a kite and go after it. Laughter will bubble up. Time will speed by! And fun will be had, most of all.

It won't be the first time a kite has saved the day. Just think of Mary Poppins. 

"With tuppence for paper and strings,

You can have your own set of wings.

With your feet on the ground

You're a bird in a flight

With your fist holding tight

To the string of your kite!

OHHHHHHH,

Let's go fly a kite, up to the highest height, 

Let's go fly a kite and send it soaring!

Up to the atmosphere, up where the air is clear.

Oh, let's go fly a kite!

See you along the way!
the SconeLady

Once A Cheerleader (2)

I know it sounds like an awfully long time ago, but right now it feels like it only just happened. High School. Cheer tryouts. Getting up in front of lots of people at games. Shouting until your voice gave out. And, most unbelievably, jumping up and down.

It happened! And here's the evidence:

The SconeLady cheers at a Pep Rally

Jumping! Up and down! It was so much fun. But there was also a troublesome part to this - the SconeLady was terribly shy and could hardly bear it. She did, however, bear it - and survived.

I never did find the photo with the purple and white flag. But Pom Poms? Oh yes, there were Pom Poms. Lots and lots of them.

Late last night, after the discussion about cheerleading and flags, I suddenly remembered my old yearbooks sitting somewhere downstairs. Too sleepy to do anything about them just then, I promised myself that today I would find them, and sit remembering. Remembering those very confusing, and happy, and crazy days of High School; before my friends began receiving Draft notices; before any of us really thought very hard about college; before weddings, certainly. 

I have seen these same good friends lately, and here we are, now - after Viet Nam, after college, after weddings. Totally enjoying the grandchildren. It is a grand place for us to be - hooray!

And so I shall share these photos and memories with the sweet, small 4 year old, and watch her be amazed. Grandma! Jumping. Rustling Pom Poms. Posing for a camera. Cheering for the Tigers. 

Who KNEW?

See you along the way!

the SconeLady