If I were naive, I'd say that spring is starting to poke itself through the blanket of wet and dismal weather we've been experiencing in London for the past week. But I'm not. I know that spring weather in England doesn't arrive for good until April, May, or sometimes even June. That hasn't stopped the sun from shining for the past few days, or the intense purple crocuses with vibrant yellow stamens from carpeting the backyard of our house, or snowdrops from peeking through the undergrowth in English gardens.
These past few days of sunshine and (relative) warmth have been welcome break in the clouds indeed. It comes just in time for the students to vent some of the pressure that has built up in the house over the past few weeks due to hard work and perhaps a tinge of cabin fever. The half-semester vacation which begins this weekend is much needed indeed.
The students and I had a little prelude to this break on our day trip to Stratford-upon-Avon last week. We hired a bus and drove 2.5 hours to Warwickshire and unloaded next to the river Avon. Our stops for the day included the church where Shakespeare is buried (the organ was being tuned and make for an earsplitting ambiance), two period houses which belonged to younger relations of his (which were nice), and his birthplace. Although I enjoyed seeing the Jacobean architecture in the flesh and walking around the houses, something about the town was just a little too kitschy for me. In November last year I went to Salem, Massachusetts where the witch trials took place. Though the town was very pretty in the autumnal season, the kitsch factor of the tourist attractions in the town was almost nauseating. Something about Stratford smacked of Salem. I imagine in the spring when flowers bloom, it's much better.
In the evening we had a lovely dinner and then went to see a performance King Lear by the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Courtyard Theatre. Greg Hicks, a famous British theatrical talent, played in the starring role of one of the most technically advanced and overall focused pieces of theater I will perhaps ever see. I walked away speechless. The actors all did a tremendous job with their roles (except for the Fool, whom I could not understand). The depth of the plot meshed so well with the gritty/post-tribal/post-industrial/World War II set and costumes. At one point, when King Lear laments his isolation, rain pours down on him from above in a circle as he is elevated on a small platform. Incredible.
Other than the trip to Stratford, I managed to get out of the house a few times to volunteer at the hospital this past week. On Friday, my partner on the trolley was a lovely sunny lady, and I had lots of fun with her. On Tuesday, my partner was a little less sunny and a little more protective over what stock went on the trolley. Who's to blame her? She's been doing this for five years.
I went for a late Shrove Tuesday celebration this past Wednesday at a friend of a friend's house, which was very nice. And I've studied for the MCATs, which has taken up lots of time. And I cooked dinner for the house last Monday. Beef and bean burritos (a request from one of the students) with fresh salsa, rice, and fried bananas in orange ginger sauce over ice cream for desert. Tonight, the dinner prepared by the professor and crew was southern comfort food-- oven fried chicken, fried okra, oven baked sweet potato fries (which I salvaged from a soggy fate by frying them at the last minute), macaroni and cheese, biscuits, and chocolate chip cookies. Yum.
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